#fuck this is really feeling like an older family sitcom
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tyler (7/8)
#total drama#noco family au#total drama noco#total drama noah#total drama tyler#fuck this is really feeling like an older family sitcom#is it possible to experience this kind of nostalgia???
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Wave-verse Jason playing sims was so funny. The King Lear reenactment and Bella Donna left at the alter we’re such funny details.
How does Tim play sims? I feel like he’d also find a way to suitably unhinged, maybe.
I'm really happy I get to say this on main :)
The little story with the Sims was directly ripped from my own childhood, down to the binder of DVDs. I LOVED the Sims as a kid. Loved it. And it was one of the biggest ways I would bond with my siblings. We would all crowd around the Gateway in the dining room and send forever making Sims and houses and fight over who does what. We'd do adorable kid stuff like -
*checks notes* Recreate the Bush family and psychologically torture George HW, George W, Laura Bush, etc in every conceivable way we could think of. We were a political family.
When Jason asks Tim what their relationship is, and when Tim starts teaching Jason the motherlode cheat like my own older sibling taught me - yeah, that can't possibly be clear to anybody but me, but it was my way of saying that they were siblings for sure :)
Anyway Tim pulled out every conceivable cheat code and used the debug room to fuck up the Sims as much as physically possible. He didn't do storylines, he just pushed the envelope to see how many cheat codes he could overload the game with until he broke it. He would make a house of 8 debugged NPCs, make them all marry, make them all have children, and then Pool Ladder all of the men in the house, leaving every baby an orphan. He had a family of aliens who all wore hot dog costumes all day. The only family he fixated upon were the three guys in Sims 2 who get pregnant with alien babies, and he sets them up to lead a "my three dads" style alien baby sitcom. They have affairs with French Maids, and then each other.
Obviously.
I do think he grew bored after that. Tim's ND in the specific way that means he sank hundreds of hours into Civ and SimCity. Tim's a Settlers of Catan guy. Steph liked Zoo Tycoon the best. Sims continues to be Jason's favorite. Damian only plays virtual poker.
#personally? I had One Big Family that stretched for like five generations#I also ruthlessly fucked up the debug room#baby did I use the hell out of my DS Action Replay#Damian virtually hustles and this is why he's the least favorite
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I kinda hate people framing transmasculinity as....idk. Those virgin vs chad memes where the cis dude is the skinny little guy who's got reserves about listening to girly pop music, while the trans guy is the big buff dude going "I have Brittney Spear's name tattooed across my chest AND I'm wearing women's panties cus I'm just SO NATURALLY confident in my HARD EARNED MASCULINITY" like I'm sorry but the fact that I had to jump through so many hoops to be who I am has left me with a lot of scarring. I'm not going to lie to you. Being trans is hard fucking work. I know nobody wants to hear it cus men are supposed to be the "easier" gender and being queer is supposed to be the "fun" and superior alternative to tradition, but I do have a lot of hangups. I'm sensitive to certain words and phrases. Miseducation of Lauryn Hill is widely recognized as a classic, one that I've talked to numerous black men about both irl and online, and I still have reserves about owning it because it's so "girly". I'm more likely to burn a dress than wear it. I have a lot more sympathy for men of all backgrounds now that I pass as one pretty regularly, and feel myself relating less and less to people that don't. I regularly wish my dick was bigger. I still find myself wishing I was more handsome, that I had bigger muscles, that my voice was deeper, that I was a couple inches taller. I have a head like a goddamn disco ball and sometimes get too bent out of shape over things that seem really small to most. Sometimes I have to get really drunk or high before I really let myself feel my feelings rather than compulsively intellectualize them. And even though I would never hold another man to the same standards I hold myself to, I still find myself incapable of crossing certain lines. I wish I could live in that perfect world where all my problems got solved just cus I changed my pronouns and started hormones, but I don't.
That said: I don't think I'd trade it for the world. I love being a man. I love that my anxieties and hangups are more congruent to that of the average joe than anyone else. I love when other men trust me enough to ask me for help. I love that women feel anxious about my silence during our shared time together, and when they finally get me to open up I admit "I was just thinking about whether or not a chimpanzee with a broadsword would win or lose against a snowmonkey with a katana" and feeling the tensity in the air fade and feeling her posture relax when she realizes I'm just another well meaning doofus. I love that my working class masculinity lends to me being more bold and ambitious and outspoken and innovative than that of your typical Wall Street dirtbag or even your average 9-5 middle class faux-intellectual. I love the way little black boys wave at me in public, just instinctively knowing I'm no different than their brothers and fathers. I love that an episode of a prime time family sitcom had an older black woman sitting down with a younger black man and telling him "Working here at Abbott as a young Black man, you are in a unique position. You are also at a crossroads; your students can either fear you or they can respect you. Can’t have both." and I immediately understood and adapted the mindset into my daily life.
Being trans to me isn't so much about having it easier, it's about still having issues-- sometimes even more than before-- but having the energy, courage, foresight, and resources to be able to deal with them this time around. Life is all ups and downs, never all of one or the other, and how committed you are personally to the entire ordeal is entirely up to you.
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Pugsley Addams headcanons
Sequel to my Morticia post! Also, my boy does NOT get enough love and I enjoyed the new series but they did him SO dirty so I’m here to rectify it. Tim Burton can kiss my ass
(This is gonna be based on the ‘60s show mostly, with some stuff from the ‘90s movies and the musical bc that’s the AF stuff I like the most. Also it’ll have absolutely no structure because I don’t need to give him a backstory like I did for Morticia)
So first off, this isn’t a headcanon but it is a quote from season one episode ten of the sitcom (and it’s on youtube if you don’t believe me):
Morticia: We might have to call the P-O-L-I-C-E.
Pugsley: You mean the fuzz?
Morticia: What is the fuzz?
Pugsley: The bulls!
Gomez: Thought you had him there, didn’t you?
So yeah there’s that
That attitude towards authority definitely continues into when he’s a teenager
(I mean it’s the early seventies, who are we kidding)
Between that and his penchant for explosives, Pugsley makes a lot of really cool friends and gets into a lot of trouble in school
Morticia is NOT pleased
“It’s one thing to set off a bomb, sweetheart, but cutting class is a completely different matter!”
“But mooooooooooooooooom-”
Pugsley likes to act cool but he’s very much a mama’s boy
There’s not much he enjoys more than helping Morticia out in the kitchen or the greenhouse
He also really likes hanging out with Grandmamma (this one is canon in the musical and it’s FANTASTIC)
She loves helping her grandson out with the occasional illegal activity
Also she always has candy and Pugsley’s the only one who knows about it
Uhhh let’s see
Pugsley’s dyslexic!
He has a lot of trouble in school because of it, especially because this is the seventies so people don’t always take him seriously
(Idk a lot about dyslexia so I can’t really elaborate but I should tell you this headcanon was courtesy of my mom)
He also gets really tall during high school
By the time he’s eighteen he’s almost as tall as Morticia
He’s just a really big dude
A really big dude who actually has no idea how to fight
Gomez tried to teach him to swordfight in middle school and it failed miserably
They stopped after he broke a sword and Gomez almost cried
Again, he much prefers explosives anyway
One time I saw someone headcanon that Pugsley has pyrokinetic powers and I am FULLY on board with this
In the post about Morticia that I made, I said something about her family all having some kind of magic (whereas the Addamses themselves are mostly just plain humans who act really fucking strange)
Anyway, Pugsley ends up with magic, Wednesday doesn’t
He tries to be a good big brother and not make a big deal out of it, but he can’t help but be a little smug
Mainly because Wednesday does so much better in school than he does, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit jealous
The rest of his family is also full of really accomplished people, so Pugsley actually feels like he falls short a lot
So the magic thing is a Big Deal to him
Anyway he has pyrokinesis (fire + explosive powers)!
They figure it out when he’s about fourteen, but he’s been drawn to that stuff his whole life so nobody was really surprised
The whole family was proud, but Uncle Fester was ecstatic
Once he finishes high school, Pugsley basically starts doing magic as a part-time job
There are a surprising amount of people who will pay for an explosion, but it’s legally dubious at best and he’s an adult now so he’s more likely to face consequences
So he ends up being a bartender at some weird-looking tavern and he actually loves it
Pugsley gets a lot more laid-back as he gets older, and he’s able to become friends with a lot of different kinds of people
The weirder the better- the real kooks just make him feel more at home :)
Btw when I say he’s laid-back that ABSOLUTELY does not mean he won’t do schemes from time to time. My boy is a practical joker at heart and no amount of adulthood can change that
Also when I say friends I do only mean friends bc Pugsley is aro! I am definitely not projecting!
Specifically he’s aroallo + straight and not quite sure about gender
For a while Morticia is kind of annoying about it (“so when are you going to get a girlfriend?”) but he explains to her that that’s not what he wants and she’s okay with it
They stay really close as they get older :)
This wasn’t as long but I can’t think of any more so here: @acesophiewalten @itwasmyweddingday @lucasbeinekehonorarygoth for you guys! We need more Pugsley content in the world is what I’m saying with this
#Soph’s posts#addams family#addams family headcanons#pugsley addams#Pugsley Addams headcanons#Pugsley#Pugsley headcanons#Jean tag#Ebony tag
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Okay, so I really like the idea of Silver Bull. (And by "like" I mean it's been burning in my veins for months.)
Oh shit, it's long.
Realistically, it would take quite a long time to fully develop of course. There's Adam's racism towards humans combined with Merc's inability to really open up to anyone who isn't named Emerald. And of course there's always the angle of the two being an all-around toxic pairing, much angst. Buttt since I'm just a sinnamon roll and want everyone to be healthy and happy, I'm going to go for the healthy variety.
(By the way, in my au, Adam and Ilia are the same age as most of the cast. I never really saw the point of making them older and younger respectively.)
Initially, when Adam is forced to spend time around Emerald and Mercury (the HORROR), it's the worst day ever. You could write at least one full season's worth of a sitcom. Emerald and Mercury just do stupid shit to intentionally piss him off. To be clear, it isn't 100% out of malice. The two have some desire to see him cut loose in spite of everything. From seeing how he fights, they know just how dangerous he is, especially towards humans, but even from the start, there's this sort of mutual respect from both parties. I think Adam would be the one to feel attraction first, and he's horrified that he's capable of feeling attracted towards a human. Inevitably, the shells crack over time. Adam and Mercury aren't blind to the softness that Fox can bring out of Emerald, one different than the one Mercury can sometimes evoke. At this point, the concept of a human and a faunus together romantically is such a foreign concept to Adam- obviously it was horribly taboo in Atlas, and it would be highly looked down upon in the White Fang to say the least. Eventually Adam's curiosity gets the best of him, and he asks Fox "What do you see in her? She's a human!" Fox replies "She's more like me than she is different." and elaborates on the similarity of their pasts. Fox also tells Adam "I can tell there's something that's hurting you too. It's buried deep inside, but it dictates your every step. And I don't think I want to force it out of your mind." Adam's understandably kind of freaked out over Fox's semblance, but there is some innate trust because he is also a faunus. They develop a friendship- probably Adam's first friend that isn't in the White Fang. They've gone through hard times. Neither has a living family, and Adam was blinded in one eye, while Fox has never had vision in either.
Eventually, Adam and Mercury do reveal their pasts to one another of their own volition. It's a big turning point in Adam's worldview, it's not like he wasn't aware that humans could be abused, but rather it's hearing a firsthand account of an especially horrific case, one that's honestly quite similar to his own. For the first time, Adam is connected to a human via mutual understanding, albiet a fucked up one. And for once... it's like those racial barriers aren't there. It's a pair of two scared little boys, experiencing something NO ONE should ever experience, looking into a mirror, plenty of visible scars, and even more invisible ones. Suddenly, all of that repressed pain from over the years, channeled away into rage and destruction for a cause bigger than they are- the dam breaks.
They cry. How many years has it been since their eyelashes have gotten spiky with tears? Or their heads hurt, is it from crying? The beatings? The mental strain? Losing their humanity, as they feel it draining from them day after day? How long has it been since their faces have been flushed from raw emotions that haven't been channeled into a fight? Do the once-familiar sensations of hot tears streaking down their faces, running into their mouths and leaving a salty aftertaste in their mouths feel foreign now?
Even with the freedom fighter and the assassin's hard facades, there is no shame in everything coming forth, because he knows, the man across from you knows, did anyone? Did you give up on anyone knowing? Or are they dead because you survived and they didn't? You thought you could move on, did you really? It's in your face now, those prosthetic legs, that charred flesh, hidden away under fabric to avoid rude or frightened stares.
Where do we go from here?
#my post#rwby#adam taurus#mercury black#silver bull#this is probably the most angsty thing I've ever written#and its nearly 2:30 am here someone stop me
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sofa. I'm trying to think of another question but im not sure. would you list some of your top 10 favorite cartoons of all time
DAMN ANOTHER TOUGHIE.. ive watched a lot of cartoons... i feel like its easy just to list more current ones/cartoons ive very recently watched but im gonna try real hard not to do that. so in no particular order:
adventure time: probably an obvious choice to ppl who know me personally. im pretty sure ive said this before but i quite literally grew up with this show, like i watched the pilot on nicktoons when i was like 9 and freaked out when the first episode of the actual show aired, and ive still regularly and enthusiastically kept up with it ever since, even to this day. i have to be honest and say the inclusions of distant lands and fionna and cake had me worried in a very cynical way about wringing the franchise dry or it succumbing to nostalgia bait but ive been happy to have had those fears handily dispelled every time. it makes me really happy to see that the cast and crew that have stuck with it just seem so genuinely excited to continue to tell new stories in the expanded universe and explore the land of ooo and new characters who live there, i think thats a good way to keep an ongoing series with spinoffs or limited series or what have you to keep from getting stale
ducktales 2017: once again anybody who knows me personally or follows this blog knows why this is on the list. i. fucking. love. ducktales 2017. ive said a million times before that i think its like a perfect encapsulation of what a reboot should be, something that obviously has a lot of love and respect for the original that its rebooting, but isn't afraid to incorporate entirely new ideas or deviate from pre-established "rules" or roles of the previous installments/versions of the characters and story, so on and so forth. i think it blends the family sitcom and action adventure elements really well together, its got a great ensemble of charming characters, i think most of the over-arching storylines it sets up are executed really well and it has a lot of fun one-off stories. its not perfect but its damn near close, in my opinion. also as much as i hate disney the corporate i do still love donald duck hes the best legacy disney character ok american moment over
the secret saturdays: i was a HUGE fan of the show as it was coming out but didnt remember much of it as i got older until i rewatched it, whereupon i found out just how much it fucking holds up, oh my g0d. i genuinely cannot believe its not more popular considering its premise, and again i think the story and character writing really hold up !!!!!! it has fantastic twists, you are immediately endeared not just to the saturday family but a lot of the other supporting characters, its overreaching storyline is executed so so well especially when you consider it was unfortunately gutted and prematurely cancelled by CN. some parts of it may be a little dated but again i think for the years it was developed and coming out there are some elements that were kind of ahead of the curve. if you havent watched the secret saturdays PLEEEASE please do !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! im fucking begging you. its good
ben 10: i think ben 10 might be my white whale. for important context i was scared to death of the original series as it was actively coming out when i was like, 6 years old, only to get extremely invested in it and the "original universe" franchise in like late middle school/early high school, and then they fucking got my ass AGAIN as a current twenty-something. every time i think im out they fucking pull me right back in. i know its a dumb meat headed action cartoon for little children but the wasted potential in this franchise is nothing short of insane, i wouldnt be saying this if they didnt literally bring up certain threads and ideas in the show only to be like, actually who gives a fuck ! that being said its a premise that sticks with you forever. to quote that one post
justice league unlimited: i dont post much about superhero cartoons on here but make no mistake they were hugely influential to me when i was a kid, my dad was and still is a huge marvel nerd but unfortunately for marvel (and my dad) their cartoon game was (and honestly, still kind of is) just aaaaabsolute trash, except for the ones about the x-men, but thats a ramble for another day. it wont surprise you to know a lot of the writing staff for the justice league and justice league unlimited cartoons would go on to work on the original ben 10 continuity so they have a lot of the same issues, but i would be lying if i didnt say jlu had a huge effect on my little baby brain, arguably maybe more than ben 10. why unlimited and not the original justice league cartoon of the aughts you ask ? well because jlu is hornier, and also booster gold is there
discovery kids favorites: this is technically cheating cuz its 3 cartoons, BUT ! i dont remember them enough on their own to put any one above the other. as a kid my mom hated cartoons (and honestly most tv programming aimed at children) and hated me and my sisters watching them in the room with her, or in general, for more than like 15 minutes a day, unless they were educational, and so i felt extremely clever for exploiting the discovery kids loophole bc they were cartoons made to teach you stuff. the ones i remember the most vividly and fondly were tutenstein, grossology, and growing up creepie, which i feel like honestly. says a lot about me. i should rewatch those sometime.
samurai jack: i will not argue against the fact that genndy tartakovsky is a tremendously talented individual, and a lot of his work has been extremely inspirational to me, that being said, if given the chance, i would drop an anvil on his head. i probably shouldnt say that but i cant express to you how much a lot of his work frustrates me and samurai jack really takes the cake. i cant even talk about season 5 but a lot of stuff in seasons 1-4 has problems that i feel like should be addressed, THAT BEING SAID, in spite of it all, i still fucking love samurai jack. i have fond memories of it from when i was a kid and during the collective resurgence it had as the 5th season was coming out, i cant argue that it doesnt have a lot going for it or pretend that again it isnt responsible for a lot of my own personal artistic inspirations.
class of 3000: I KNOW IVE BEEN POSTING ABOUT THIS A LOT LATELY BUT ITS NOT JUST CUZ OF THAT ! this last rewatch hasnt been my first, ive genuinely brought up this show to a lot of people both online and irl in the desperate hope other people remembered it because it was one of my absolute favorites as a kid and i remember the visceral feeling of how unfair it felt when i found out at like age 9 that it had been cancelled and there would never be another episode of it again. i think it just came into my life at the right place at the same time, i was both getting really into drawing and coming up with little stories myself and so the art and the cast really drew me in, and i had a music teacher at the time who was really into jazz and blues music and seeing that reflected in a cartoon i was watching was so cool :v] and again i just think so much of it holds up. its a gem i dont think should be hidden
spongebob (but only the first four seasons and the movie): im almost 25 so this is supremely unoriginal. its not that i think the newer/newest stuff is all bad its just that everybody gets one thing to be unreasonably blinded by nostalgia about and for me its early spongebob. the userbase on here is aging you all know what im talking about i dont need to explain this pick
the owl house: i really like the owl house for what it is ! its not for everybody, i know people tend to think it kind of skews towards "children's cartoon that is targeted for adults who still watch that stuff" but i think thats kind of cynical and not very generous to the cast and crew, i know the show got pitched around a bit before disney picked up on it but i dont think its fair to exclude the care and thought that went into re-adapting it for a broader and therefore younger audience, and the care that went into it in general ! i like its take on the fantasy setting, both the main and minor cast clearly have a lot of love and thought put into them, genuinely i think luz is maybe one of my favorite cartoon protagonists ever, the messaging it tries to get across i think comes from a personal place and is thus very earnest and sweet, and much like the secret saturdays i think its able to accomplish a lot in the limited time it was given. the whole show just feels like a labor of love to me and i just like the way that comes through !
since this was hard here are some honorable mentions:
batman the brave and the bold: wouldnt be fair to bring up a superhero cartoon and not mention this. i was pretty obsessed with this rendition of batman as a kid, unsurprising since i unironically loved the joel schumacher batman & robin movie and liked to catch the adam west batman re-runs they would play at the wee hours of the morning when i couldnt sleep, i think brave and the bold channels both of those a lot, its deeply stupid and kind of sucks in a lot of areas but thats also kind of part of the charm
3below: so i watched the first season of this before ever watching trollhunters, and while i recognize trollhunters is on a lot of levels the superior tales of arcadia cartoon i just like 3below the best. the stakes of trollhunters can get a little exhausting and i think 3below lets itself get a bit more goofy, plus its about a little group of "fish out of water" aliens !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love fish out of water stories AND aliens, what do you want me to do
fangbone!: real sofa fans remember my fangbone phase. ongoing actually cuz hes still my icon. its one of those cheaply produced flash canadian cartoons but from my perspective i think it was made by people who actually put more effort than was expected of them, which i like, and again its another fish out of water story, and the graphic novel its based on is also very cute
dwampyverse cartoons: phineas and ferb and milo murphy's law mostly ! pnf was very impactful on me as a kid and i loved the first season of mml. i think theyve reached a kind of oversaturation maybe ? that has made me juuust a little bit jaded about them, but i cant pretend like i still dont hold plenty of fondness for em in my heart
unicorn warriors eternal: see the above points about genndy tartakovsky in the samurai jack bulletpoint. the premise is a really cool one and the first season managed to be really good in ways i didnt think it would be but theres still the second season, so im scared. i hope its good. ive got the clown make up ready to go just in case though.
lastman: don't watch lastman. we all have our own cross to bear, alright, and this one's mine. i watched lastman, so you don't even have to worry about it, i mean i haven't finished the second season yet so i will, so don't watch lastman, please. im telling you as your friend, don't watch lastman. we all make mistakes sometimes, like for example, i watched lastman, both in french and english. if you watch lastman than my sacrifices will have been for nothing. don't watch it, and don't look up the comic either. im completely serious.
big city greens: im very picky about sitcoms and sitcom-type faire, but big city greens takes i think a very flat and tbh cynical gimmick and explores it with a lot of heartfelt earnestness, its hard not to be charmed by it. just pure comfort food tv to me.
danger & eggs: fun fact !!!!!! the cartoon that made me decide to make this sideblog !!! i keep meaning to revisit it, i would recommend checking it out if you havent before, both its premise and humor is very idiosyncratic and sweet to me, again its just another show that feels like it came very a place very near and dear to the creator's heart and i just always love to see that. if i had kids of my own which i never will i would definitely show it to them
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i desperately want to write a sitcom about my time in the air cadets when i was a teenager, because there were so many ridiculous things about the whole thing that it almost feels scripted at this point
first of all, we had to share our barracks with the local army cadets, which ofc meant we had the bitterest of rivalries. in order to try and limit the chaos somewhat they put up this flimsy wire fence to separate our buildings and outdoor areas, but it was literally just a fence you could walk around. still though, they did all that but didn't think to make us meet on different nights of the week. we would meet on monday and thursday and they met on tuesday and thursday, so naturally, thursday was a battle every week
we'd stand at that stupid wired fence every thursday night and hurl insults at them as they ran drills or whatever and they'd do the exact same to us. it was truly life and death, there was no other war just us vs them. and we were gonna come out on top
we even had a joint sports day every year and i swear the stakes were higher than the olympics. there was no chance in hell we were gonna let those army kids beat us at the egg and spoon race. they even threatened to ban tug of war one year because it got so heated. and the funniest part about the whole thing is that the sea cadets from down the road took part as well, but they just did not give a fuck about our bullshit, like they were not there to get involved in any army vs air force antics. they were there to win.. and act superior because they never got removed from a relay race for (rightly) calling an army cadet a cheating brat and insinuating that they were a disappointment to their parents, the british armed forces and the world. generally, whilst we were trying to fuck with each other, the sea cadets were out there actually winning the sports day trophy, and y'know what? we didn't even care because at least it wasn't the army cadets
to add another absolutely ridiculous and seemingly impossible thing to it all, the guy who was in charge of us and the guy who ran the army cadets WERE BROTHERS. like they'd just sit there on those sports days, having a cup of tea, and laughing at us dragging each other through the mud. you could definitely tell that they liked our little rivalry though, because whereas normally we'd probably have been told off for shouting insults over the fence during drills, our guy would just be like "ok enough is enough" after a minute or so and would call us back over. so i think they were kinda into it. but they'd definitely team up when it came to the sea cadets coming 'round. probably because we shared our barracks and they had their own, so despite us hating each other it was very much a "fuck them sea dogs" attitude when needed
it was also during my time in the air cadets that i found out i was ridiculously, and i mean, RIDICULOUSLY, terrified of flying. so that was a spanner in the works for sure lmao. since i couldn't even step foot in a small aircraft, i was basically given all the map reading, radio comms, navigation and rifle work, which was nice but it kinda sucks that after years in the air cadets i never got to learn how to fly. but i mean, it's also kinda ridiculous that a kid who was even slightly scared of flying would join the air cadets in the first place
to add to the sitcom-y-ness, when the air cadets came to our school to recruit us my best friend, who comes from an army family, was like I WILL NEVER JOIN THE AIR CADETS, and straight up refused and then joined the army cadets right away, but because we shared a barracks we would walk there together every thursday evening and then separate at the entrance gate but our friends would still rip us apart for fraternising with the enemy. one of the volunteers used to call us star crossed lovers rip. but also one of my first real life gay crushes was on one of the older army cadets, and it must have really set up my taste in men for life because that dude would throw a smirk and an insult in my face every week, occasionally dropping a wink or two after trying to trick me into thinking my boot lace was undone or beating me by like 0.3 seconds in a race and never letting me forget, but damn, did he look good in army green (i hated him and myself so much)
anyway, our old barracks just got sold, which is what brought on all this reminiscing and guess who is apparently moving in there? the goddamn fucking sea cadets!! can't believe it, those fucking assholes
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Thai dramas absolutely knocking it out of the park lately with realistic queer storylines I can actually click with
Yes they're still doing cheesy cranked up level fantastical romcoms like My School President (which is fine and good) and probably others I've not seen since that's just not my fave genre
But like. Never Let Me Go? WOW do i love how it's like 3 Will Be Free, The Players, My Dear Loser, how it feels like a fantastical story yes with rich boy/poor boy and all the romance tropes of that, but also feels like they go to a real school exist in a real world with realistic parents and peers and a society which works the actual way it does in the real world, when they flirt they make moves like I really did in high school, they feel relatable in that they feel like real queer people that might exist outside of romances. (Idk how to describe other than they feel WAY more like Neo and Shin from 3 Will Be Free, compared to say 2gether where the show universe works in a more romcom fiction kind of way)
Moonlight Chicken? It makes me feel like I'm watching Go Ahead but if the parenting father was actually gay, and if one of his kids was gay. It feels like a regular slice of life story about a man running his restaurant and his family/connections - the nephew he's raising and his budding relationship with someone who likes him for him, the crush he meets who is trying to be his friend since Jim's damaged from an ex, the friendly store worker nearby Gaipa who understands his life, the coworker and his fiance who are like family to him. It goes by slice of life genre realism rules, not romcom rules with concerts serenading your love and falling to kiss each other accidentally and magic slow mo music moments as you catch each other (the couples do still stare with tension after almost touching but that's a dramatic version of real tension we feel when with a crush more like Heartstoppers realistic but dramatic version of typical everyday romantic moments). Heck even if we go back to Bad Buddy, which is a touch older now, that drama was definitely a lean from romcom toward this direction of realism instead. It had the romcom tropes, the band singing to your lover the fall on each other the pin to a wall or bed etc, it had the romeo/juliet stuff, the comically dramatized friend group rivalry, the bright sitcom style colors. But as it unfolded both actors and main story conflict (parents putting their own issues onto their kids unfairly) tended to frame even those more silly romcom moments in a more realistic reality. (Again apologies I explain bad lol). I liked Theory of Love (older still) for this reason too, it played wirh romcom tropes and even referenced romcom movies constantly (which was so cool) but it's ultimate main driving storyline is a toxic friendship and fallout and the individuals needing to on one hand heal and make better boundaries and on the other realize he used his friend and do better (and a nice realistic college bi romance on the side I related to lol). Although I'll say kisses and realistic levels of affection for a romance storyline type couple are def being reached more often now ToT (moonlight chicken does a great job at normal life levels of physical touch you'd expect, Not Me did fucking great, Never Let Me Go mostly is doing well except that old couple getting married but I'll forgive it as it's not the focus, and meanwhile ToL was quite conservative - as was the Sotus time before that).
My point is I'm seeing a lot more Thai bl stories go for that realism (ish) vibe mixed with their romances, so more bl are starting to feel like their other genres stuff. Which I think is nice, it feels like they're more willing to make main queer romances in multiple genres now besides just romcom and I always love seeing that broaden.
#rant#this is also my way of saying IM HIGHLY RECOMMENDING#NEVER LET ME GO. MOONLIGHT CHICKEN. THE ECLIPSE. NOT ME.#its a good fucking era of shows if you have tastes similar to mine
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You and me, babe, livin' for dreams
Lifin for love, drinkin' for free
Sittin' on top of an old robot, sharin' and carin' it out...
The memory's scrubbing you down!
Kamen Rider Geats is filmed in front of a live studio audience~! Seriously, I guess we're going back to that family sitcom vibe Revice had, if only for a bit. But hey, this should be fun, right?
We've got a new set of Riders to become our friends! ...or our enemies, one or the other~! And the triumphant return of homegirl Na-Go about to rock! Witness the Scheme game unfold!
Spoilers, I guess...
-Wan Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanchi
-You did it, Ace! You saaaaaaaved the world!
-Recording!
-Neesan.
-Okay so this obviously indicates that Tsumuri is older than Ace, which lines up with Kokoro Aoshima being three years older than Hideyoshi Kan (...holy fuck, once again I'm a little bit older than a Kamen Rider lead, Jesus it's only gonna get more common from here...), but like... how much older, do you reckon?
-Of course, she definitely was a good bit older than him when he started playing, but I'm wondering if the DGP is a time immemorial sorta deal. How hard did the Qin dynasty fall with the DGP's influence? Were there like a bunch of early Mycenaens playing Fortnite against the Jamato? Did they ever get Linto and Gurongi in on the action? Was the first ever winner of the game like an Australopithecus Africanus?
-Oh wow, I forgot, he made all of the DPG management his family.
-...I can't imagine how lonely he must feel if he thinks Giroli and Tsumuri are acceptable family to him.
-Does this mean Punkjack is his cousin?
-HER FACE UHILJI
-Oh hey, the new cast are in the !
-There's Owl Grandpa, heard a bit of buzz about him.
-Ah, yep, there's Punkjack. Hareruya Win, his name is, which is... very funny, guess they continue with Halloween content well into November like I do.
-Goat Girl! I really hope you're cool too.
-No Na-Go in the intro, huh? Weeeeeeeeeeell, I saw her everywhere in the lead up to this arc, so I guess she's coming to play again soon enough.
-Having a nice family dinner~!
-Looks quite delicious.
-Dad!
-Oh wow, man can cook!
-Y'know Tsumuri-neechan, your loving single father still found the time to cook for his two children. How about we just relax and enjoy this lovely moment?
Tsumuri: I've been done playing house since two weeks ago, when is it gonna end?
Ace: Well, if you find someone who can kill God, then I guess I can stop being your little brother-
Tsumuri: Shin Megami Tensei VI confirmed! Kill him!
-So, you thought just now to ask about that, huh Ace?
-That we... don't know, hahahahaha :)
-Oh! You just... Win once and you get to play forever and ever.
-...to be fair, that does seem an effective way to get things going.
-Who's the rival of this arc gonna be?
-"Oh shit, Ukiyo Ace."
-Starting today, you are Kamen Rider Buffa Deez Nuts!
-"Wait a fucking second, I hate Geats!"
-"Dude what the fuck, why would you wish for that?"
-Oh shit, Neon! Whaddup girl? Can't wait to see you get that badass new form I saw all over the internet!
-I see John and Ben are doing well!
-...Ah... well, she's definitely still trapped in that house with her mother. That's quite terrible.
-"Do you miss her? :3"
-Keiwaaaaaa, my bestie! I missed you for two weeks!
-Gotta gamble.
-Hmm... this is definitely different. ...perhaps Morio rubbed off on him on an unconscious level.
-Tanuki soba! I hear that Tycoon's core is bundled with a cup of that stuff. That is certainly... a decision.
-Where we droppin', boys?
-It's game time.
-Papa Giroli's mask is super cool.
-Jesus Christ, Ace, what the fuck are you getting the system to give you now?
-Watch, it's gonna be something phenomenally petty like him wishing to meet a
-Desiiiiiiire!
-Oh fuck, he's got eyes on Tsumuri-neesan.
-Poor Azuma is just 110% done with all this.
-Grandpa!
-Oh this guy's gonna be like super evil.
-I'm guessing there's no age limit aside from "over the age of 18", which I guess is fair enough.
-Wow, okay, just stick your brother and the creepy guy coming after you on the same time.
-Jolly Roger!
-"Hey, I don't want this old dude or this random chick, can I trade them in?"
-Oh wow, there're... two three-man teams, I guess he's got a point.
-An Item!
-Oop, there's the Zombie Buckle Azuma loves so much.
-What the fuck are these names... Zelgar? Uzul'Arc?
-Y'know, I think a tutorial stage would be very helpful.
-Or at the very least, some kinda antepiece. Uh, Route Kanal in Half-Life 2 starts by making you pick up the crowbar to get rid of the boards blocking your way, and after that you get jumpscared by a Scanner that you instinctively smack down. And a bit after that, you have to kill Metrocops to progress, which you can usually do pretty easy because all the necessary information was conveyed to you beforehand. That kinda forward thinking would help a lot with keeping players in the game longer.
-Come to think of it, the Jamato give me big Combine vibes.
-Monster!
-I'm the Punkjack!
-Win, I hate you so much you're incredible hjhhlkj
-We transformed!
-These pirate guys
-"Oh, ho! My baaaack!"
-"FUCKING HELP ME YOU SCRUBS"
-I liked you way better when you never talked, Punkjack.
-Ah, so Giroli's not the GM. ...or, at least, not in charge of the game as a whole.
-"I wanna be young again!"
-Quite... interesting uses of literal godlike power, but.
-You are not a normie, Win.
-Okay I take it back, you're really fucking funny.
-Damn.
-Shut yo ass up, Mom. Trying to marry off your kid to a corporate suit. You should be ashamed.
-...I have to wonder, does the Game Master have a vested interest in helping Neon?
-Oh shit, Dad.
-OH SHIT NAOTO
-Neon, your dad is TimeFire!
-Tsumuri-neesan!
-"Well, you guys are fucked."
-Who could you possibly wanna get married to, Goat Gal?
-Oh she just straight up dipped.
-Well, I can't say I found you disappointing, Goat Gal. Hang on, I'm looking this up, what was your name again? Yukie Yaginuma? Letter?
-You certainly were The Letter (Wii U, 2014), not to be confused with the infinitely better Filipino VN The Letter by Yangyang Mobile.
-How about you, Grandpa Tanba? Keilow?
-"Fuck it, it's Ninja Time!"
-Taking a massive shit.
-"Time for you to lose, Fox Boy."
-If you don't fight, you don't survive!
-Na-Go, woooooooo!
-Oh shit!
-Kurama Neon's time to shine!
-BEAT!
-That cheering is ours.
-BEAT AXE!
-Homegirl got herself an axe bass. Just like the kind Marceline had.
-Damn, music and cat motif on the same female Rider? Takahashi must really be trying to make up for Yaiba and Poppy.
-Tactical Blizzard!
-Ah, you can just
-Do that now, damn girl.
-Yeah, that's awesome, I love this power-up. You've more than earned it, sweetie.
-Round 1's over!
-Good job, dipshit.
-"Did that massive shit you take make you feel better?"
-Gotta love homegirl Neon.
-Gotta get that wish!
-"Why do you fight, Fox Man?"
-What on earth happened to Fox Mama?
-The Game Master picks the players.
-Oh shit, Geats got a gold scarf.
-A cipher, huh? Are we perhaps getting Jamato script?
-Oh fuck, a labyrinth.
-Alright, speculation time!
-Neon's dad. What's his name, Kousei? He's obviously gonna be important later. My guess is that he's somehow related to the people in charge of the DGP. He's definitely not the big boss, but the fact that Neon got drafted back in with such an obviously amazing Raise Buckle to start tells me that he's definitely got strings to pull.
-Now, about Fox Mama... I find it very interesting that they got a notable seiyuu to voice her early in the season where she first appeared. Yuka Terasaki, you probably know her as Korrina in the XY seasons of the Pokemon anime, Hephaestus in DanMachi, Kudelia in Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans, or... perhaps most notably Luna/Ruka in Yu-Gi-Oh 5D's. This is wildly speculative, but I think that perhaps the actress we saw in Ace's flashback was a Shemp for Terasaki, who actually has done live theater in the past, and Toei's just building up for her grand appearance in the late-game of Geats.
-Anyways I think that's all for now. Join us next week, for real this time when we continue gaming! ...in a big dumb maze!
#kr geats#geats spoilers#kamen rider geats#kamen rider#the world's next round: trick shot of desire for the grand victory
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angelpaw gets an actually decent parental figure
angelpaw sighed, just great, he was horribly lost in a forest full of murderous cats. He walked onward, hoping that there was no surprise ambushes awaiting him.
He stumbled upon a puddle after a while, and bristled. He had come across one of these earlier and nearly drowned. just as he was about to leave, what he assumed was some sort of cat but looked rather fishy, jumped out of the puddle, shaking the murky water from his sopping fur.
angelpaw decided to try his luck, hopefully he wouldnt end up this strange cats dinner.
"Uhm, excuse me, i think im lost, im just trying to get back to the bunches of brambles and stuff"
The strange cat jumped, clearly completely unaware previously of angelpaws presence. They turned around and looked down at angelpaw. angelpaw felt a bit small in the moment, but refused to let down his brave act, despite feeling like he was about to get crushed under this weird cats paw.
"sorry kid, cant adopt you right now, im havin familial issues."
angelpaw looked incredulously at this weird cat, he hadnt asked to be adopted! he just wanted to get back to some familiar territory.
"butttt, i think i know some people that can adopt ya, follow me"
angelpaw felt quite peeved, he hated how this cat talked to him, he ignored what he asked like he was some dumb kit! He hadnt been a dumb kit in a long time, thank you very much! But he followed the older [assumedly] cat anyways, maybe he'd bring him back to the brambles, but he could only hope.
the embarrassingly short walk (how had he gotten so lost, he was only a few fox-lengths away!) to where the older cat was leading him was to the brambles. and as they kept walking along them, two cats came into view. on had their skull exposed and the other seemed to have a snake for a tail, this immediately put angelpaw off, he wasnt often scared but these cats scared the mouse-shit outta him.
"hey guys, i found this kit, at least i think hes a kit, by my puddle and i cant really handle kits right now so i brought him over here!"
Angelpaw felt the urge to correct the cat, but didnt feel like opening his mouth until he gaged whether he could beat these cats in a battle or not, most likely he wouldnt be able to, but it brought him comfort in the idea he might be able to beat at least one of them.
"riverrush, while we, kinda appreciate the gesture, and appreciate the implication we'd be responsible enough for a kid, we all know that poor kit would be better off jumpin into the brambles headfirst than having us as parents"
well, at least angelpaw had a name for this weird cat now, the skullcat seemed calm enough, and the one with a snake for a tail and a bunch of super sharp huge teeth still scared angelpaw, how anyone could be calm around a cat like that is beyond him, but he wasnt one to judge too much.
"audible sigh, fineeee ill take care of 'em myselffff"
angelpaw was not very appreciative of how he had literally not been able to say a single word to riverrush other than to ask directions. riverrush started walking away, coming back and nudging a very reluctant angelpaw when he didnt follow.
as angelpaw walked, there was only one thing on his mind
'what the fuck did i do to starclan to deserve this'
a/n: these two are a sitcom duo and will be portrayed as such, because honestly reluctant adopter and even more reluctant adoptee is a very funny dynamic imo
================
abdolutely LOVE how everyone's so used to the younger cats getting adopted that Riverrush just. assumes Angelpaw's looking for a parent. Then reluctantly becomes the parent.
#submission#you died bitch let's get you some parents#wc#dark tales#dark forest tales#funny story#short story#riverrush#angelpaw
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219 of 2022
Reblog | Bold what applies to you;
You’re a chick.
You’re a girl’s girl, as well as a guy’s girl.
You’re a freshman in college.
You can’t decide if you love it or fucking hate it.
You are obsessed with weight loss.
You have sleeping problems.
You miss someone, a lot more than you like to admit.
You get along with people easily.
You have a lot of secrets.
You like books about murder and drug addicts.
You drink soda like water.
You secretly listen to country.
Your shoulders are sore.
You’re extremely self destructive.
You take vitamins and fish oils.
You always have one headphone in.
And it annoys the shit out of people.
Your hands are freezing.
Your room mate thinks you’re a little weird. // yeah my husband lol
You’re blonde, but you don’t wanna be.
You used to love your body, but now you despise it.
You love to dance.
You’ve never had any really good relationships.
You hate dates.
You hate your parents, but not really.
You feel sick right now.
You’ve drank about 4 liters of water in the past 10 minutes.
You drink too much.
You smoke too much.
You are a vegetarian, sort of. Ha
You’re a closet romantic.
You can’t sleep, and you don’t know why.
You have a thousand things on your mind.
You’re spinning out of control.
You’re undeclared.
Your clothes are weird. // well, oh my.
You really need to do your nails.
You love your sister more than yourself.
You smoke a lot of cigarettes.
You’re kind of a burn out.
You’re very creative, but don’t know how to channel it.
You miss the past more than you should.
You’re very independent.
You have major trust issues.
You have anti depressants, but you don’t take them.
You adore cheesecake.
You wear dark eye makeup for some reason.
People don’t take you seriously, and you like it that way.
You have a lot of scars.
You’ve lied about some pretty big things.
You’re kind of a horrible person.
You hate skype, but have one anyway.
You edit all your pictures.
You live for your cigs, chipotle and sitcoms.
You go to weheartit.com a billion times a day.
You have a secret blog. Hahaaa. // nope you even have the link in my description
You’re extremely insecure, but you’d never show it.
You like to make other people happy.
Christmas freaks you out.
You had a major emo phase.
You have no real goals in life.
You miss your best friends.
You miss your brothers.
You miss not counting calories.
You miss sleeping.
You love watching the stupid news fluff pieces.
Your favorite Kardashian is Kourtney because she has no feelings.
You like guys who you know will always let you down.
You like guys who have issues and addictions.
You have daddy issues.
You have mommy issues.
You have a lot of issues.
You don’t know what to say to therapists.
You don’t know what to say in general.
Your shoulders are really starting to hurt.
You’re hungry, but you’re not gonna eat for a while.
You love being alone, and hate it at the same time.
You’ve had over 10 hamsters.
You feel very insignificant and small in this giant world.
Ocean water scares you.
But you jump in anyway.
You always forget to call back.
You’ll always sort of be in love with someone from your past.
When you get mad, you start yelling and use your hands a lot.
You’re not very attractive without makeup.
If you met yourself, you think you’d hate yourself.
You like older men (ex. George Clooney) // my husband is older, but age doesn’t matter to me since we’re both adults
You regret eating so much last night.
Your neck is in an extremely uncomfortable position.
You have very pale skin.
You have a very intense stare.
You’re basically fuckin blind. // yea dislocated lenses
You say fuckin a lot.
You hate your smile.
You spend way too much time thinking.
You like weed cuz it makes you numb.
you like alcohol cuz it makes you retarded.
Alcoholism and drug addiction runs in your family.
You do drugs.
You come from a very dysfunctional family.
You love going on walks.
You don’t know how to get through the rest of this week.
You love writing songs lyrics and poems.
Your computer is making weird noises and you don’t know why.
You’re scared no one will ever want to marry you.
You don’t even support marriages, but it still scares you.
You fucking love chipotle.
You like spazzing out to dubstep.
You’d never show anyone your art work.
You’ve quit everything you’ve tried.
You have had a lot of fucking fun.
You’ve been really really heartbroken.
You’ve gradually become very sarcastic and fierce.
You’re scared.
You’re exhausted.
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Once again I'm writing shit no one has asked for but I want anyways so:
SLASHERS X READER GETTING OLD TOGETHER (Gentle giants edition)
INCLUDES:
Headcanons of Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Jason Voorhees growing older with their s/o
Tw: possible mention of cannibalism, murder, mentions of toxic households, some angst. If I missed anything you can say it!
A/N: listen, I just want to have my old age domestic bliss with this babes so this is going to be shameless self-indulgence. Also if you like it I can do it for the other slashers too.
THOMAS:
You two obviously have moved out after luda mae and hoyt died. You actually tried to go as far away as possible to be able to have a fresh start.
Probably married at some point. He may not say it but being able to call himself your husband makes his heart melt.
With so many years of being under your care and love he eventually feels less self conscious. He doesn't struggles that much anymore to believe he's worthy of your love.
That doesn't mean he takes your love for granted or that he has grown used to being with you. He's still shy as ever, he's a mess everytime you look at him smiling. He can swear that everyday he wakes up next to you he falls in love all over again just by looking at you in the eyes. He will never stop to feel butterflies inside his stomach everytime you're around.
He eventually found a normal job. Town folks were surprisingly accepting once they discovered how nice thomas actually is and what a lovely couple you two make. He even managed to make a few friends. Proving hoyt's theories about Thomas never being able to have a normal life wrong. Hoyt you can suck on a big fat toe
You both had made a good reputation for yourselves in town. and its actually really refreshing for Thomas to being able to live and not survive. Like really being free from the guilt, the violence and the horrors of what he had to do to maintain his family.
He is going full on with the old man life style once he retires. We're talking about keeping sweets in his pockets, holding hands with you while taking your daily walk around the neighbourhood and sitting on the couch cuddling with while watching cheesy sitcoms
Now that he has free time he's finding new hobbies to do together and his favorite by far is cooking and baking. He's taking it very seriously, has even bought aprons for him and you.
Now that he doesn't have to kill anyone to have something to eat he finds it really relaxing. He enjoys every part of it, even buying the groceries.
If you two had kids and/or grandchildren he will 100% bake and cook with them. He'll probably give too many sweets to the kids so try to keep an eye on him if you don't want your kids/grandchildren to get diabetes in one day
The part he loves the most about his new life is being able to see how you change throughout the years along him. Your greying hair, the marks on the corners of your mouth cause by a lifetime worth of moments smiling and laughing together, your beauty never withering only growing more mature.
And he's not ageing bad himself at all. Tommy is still the big strong boy you've met years ago. That hasn't change even now that he's old, the only visible change in his physics being a few wrinkles and white hairs.
But if we talking about age problems you can't see? Oh boy, buckle up.
Both of you are experiencing the joys of feeling aches everywhere. Getting up? Your knees are aching. Bending? Your back is killing you. Every bone in your body rattles from time to time
Now if is him hearing his back cracking because he just got up from bed then his only going to let a subtle grumpy grunt of annoyance
But if it's you? Bro is going full on panic mode thinking you just broke your fucking spine. He's never going to get used to it and will always fuss about it
Years of neglecting his health and forcing too much his body has took a tool on him though so make sure his getting checked from time to time and that he takes his medicines
Besides you too have to get checked cause, even if less serious than his, you still have your fair share of things to watch out for.
He reminds you of your medicines and you remind him of his.
He loves taking you to little dates like going to get ice cream together, taking you to a nice dinner out ecc
He has now no shame in kissing you, cuddling ecc. He's a serial smoocher
Dinners together are always romantic, it doesn't matter if there's no special occasion both of you will always make it nice with candles and music ecc
He loves to sit on the porch with you after breakfast or lunch.
He's definitely going to bring you flowers everyday.
The only bad thing he sees on getting older together is that the idea of losing you becomes more real everyday. He knows it's something normal and tries to not think about it too much. He only hopes that, if you two can go out together, he's the first to go cause he won't be able to be without you.
Overall his life is going to be much more happier and healthier. It was already happier the day you appeared in his life but now is really everything he wished for and more.
BUBBA:
Much more like Thomas his life with you will start to be much more happier and easier without having his family around to manipulate and beat him down.
It's a 50/50 between Drayton and his brothers dying or you being able to convince him to leave wit you.
Either way he's just so happy of been gifted the opportunity to spend so many years with you ♡
Bubba, unlike Thomas, still likes the idea of a house far from the town, with a nice garden ecc
Both of you would find a job and will still going to town for groceries ecc but he just prefers the calm and privacy of not being around people too much. Years of always being isolated are not going to heal so easy.
He's still as bubbly as always, maybe now with age his less energetic and more toned down but he's still a gentle giant full of joy.
Every night before going to bed he puts the radio on and has a cuddling session with you while listening you talk about anything you want to say
Now that he's a retired old man he doesn't has much to do so he takes this free time to engage in his passion for crafts ecc.
He's that type of old people who are always checking the whole house to see if something needs to be fixed.
He loves to have breakfast with you in the garden. Or to have cute picnics outside.
He's definitely going to have a dog and by the time you wake up in the morning he has not only take his daily walk with the dog, brought you flowers but he has made breakfast too.
He has learnt to drive eventually but if he was a danger behind the wheel when he was younger now that he's old he's a complete fuckin menace. Please don't let this man drive more than what's necessary
He has found he really enjoys reading and probably had to start using glasses but being the old man he is now they're probably atrociously ugly. Somehow, though, he manages to make them look cute on him.
You have to remind him to take his medication if has to take any. You would always leave it in his nightstand for him to take first thing in the morning with a note to make sure that if you're still asleep he will take them anyway.
He still acts like a teenager with a crush around you and his love has never lessen or toned down with the years.
This poor man health is a mess so yeah, have fun having doctor's appointments as dates
Anything you buy, make or bring for him he's going to treasure it like it's the most valuable thing he has. You both probably have a memory boxes
To make bubba happy you don't need to do much, you're both old and don't really have the energy to be doing crazy stuff so just sitting together on the couch and cuddling is more than enough for him
JASON:
I mean, you already kinda live the old couples life. The only difference being that now you both can actually call yourselves old
Jason out of the three gentle giants is the least likely to move out of the woods. He doesn't sees the need to leave if you both are doing just fine, plus this is his home and the only place he has known since he was a kid.
If it's normal jason he might consider it though, cause he's not getting any younger nor you and he worries about your wellbeing. Be it that you may need medical assistance or that someone hurts you ecc he doesn't want to putting at risk your life now that he's not that able of protecting you
If it's zombie Jason then he's likely to not give in. He loves you dearly but he could never be comfortable around people nor he would fit in enough to live a normal life. Plus he's not going to get old nor die, you're the own starting to look like a raisin here. He's only concern is to spend as much time as he can with you. He will try to slow down the whole killing thing, might settle to just scare people away just for the sake of not wasting time he could use on being with you
Normal jason it's a garden grampa. He's got the hat, the flannel with overalls, the gloves ecc... you even bought him a utility belt to keep his gardening tools at reach without him having to bend down or forcing his knees to get them.
Is always growing new flowers just for you, gets all giddy everytime you both go out to get groceries and you tell him he can buy new seeds.
If he has budge about living somewhere else the first years are going to be hard. Pam wasn't exactly happy about it, but she knew his darling was not going to be able to keep going with this forever and she didn't want to put you in danger neither so she gave her approval. He was actively terrorise everytime he had to interact with someone.
With time and patience and so much love and care from your part, he has grown used to be around people again. Even Pam was helping you in calming him down
After all this years he's still so careful around you. If he treated you like you were going to break before now he's even worse.
You have to talk to him about it cause he ends up neglecting and hurting himself by doing this.
Unpopular opinion but he's not going to be a early morning person anymore. With nothing to worry about and no responsibilities of staying alerted in case a trespasser gets close, all the lack of sleep and years of not resting are catching up on him.
He's not going to be grumpy but will probably sleep as much as he wants and that means that you're going to stay in bed until he doesn't wakes up
Again, like Thomas he's too going to have aches everywhere.
Mostly on his knees and arms from years of hunting down people. His muscles are sore most of the time
He loves having time to actually sit down with you to have meals together or to just watch TV without the thought of having to leave you at anytime to do something.
He's actually pretty healthy and makes sure you are too. His body has only softened a bit from having a more laid back lifestyle. He now eats better and doesn't has to worry about getting hurt ecc anymore
If you're with zombie Jason and you start to feel insicure about you being old and him staying the same he's going to do everything in his power to make you feel loved and comfortable. From his part his love has never changed in any shape or form. If anything it has been getting stronger day by day. The only thing that has changed is that he's now more careful with you and is more protective cause you're more fragile. But other than that everytime he looks at you he only sees his y/n, his little flower beautiful as always if not more
If you had kids and grandchildren he's the grandpa of grandpa's. Pam is over the moon seeing how your family is growing and how happy jason is around all of you
He's always going to carry some sort of sweet with him for the kids, takes them to eat ice cream and play outside, takes them after school if they want to spend time with him and you. He's always giving them money to buy something and it's like the sweetest old man in this world.
He has a thing for taking candid photos of you. You may find photos you didn't remember to take around the house.
Please learn with him how to crochet things so you can both make sweaters for each others.
His favorite part of the day is kissing and admiring you before falling asleep knowing that the next morning he's going to see you again. He's never going to grow tired of having you in his life
#slashers#slasher community#slasher fandom#horror movies#slasher fanfiction#slasher x reader#slasher imagines#slasher movies#slasher x you#slashers headcanons#bubba leatherface#bubba sawyer#thomas brown hewitt#thomas hewitt x you#thomas hewitt x reader#jason voorhees#jason vorhees x reader#jason vorhees x you#tcm fanfic#texas chainsaw the beginning#texas chainsaw massacre#friday the 13th#friday the 13th fanfic
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for the most recent part of hwb can we get something from megumi’s pov on seeing reader’s new family? maybe he feels lonely seeing reader’s kids together & thinks back on when him & his brother used to be close.
i’m really in love with this series like all the different routes & endings are just😭💔💔
AAHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH DARLING!! i hope you enjoy this one!
⇾ hwb with pregnant reader
⇾ reader and toji’s son’s introduction
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
when he came home from yuuji’s house, megumi expected the usual: his parents cuddling while watching some sitcom his mom’s into with aiko doing homework in his room, avoiding them again.
ever since aiko’s grown older, he started distancing himself from them. not like megumi doesn’t understand. he knows how awkward (or more, if he’s being honest) it is to sit in front of the people who’s caused you, his mom, so much grief.
it never really crossed megumi’s mind then. he was just excited to have his mom back after being abandoned. he just wanted things to go back to how they used to. but how could they when aiko’s there? when megumi has a brother, but not from his mother?
truthfully, it took a lot from megumi to not distance himself from aiko. he still loved aiko—loves aiko—but why was loving him at the expense of the happiness of megumi’s mother?
at a young age, all he knew was to push those that would hurt his mom. and who could blame him for thinking that aiko was going to break them apart?
gradually, of course, he begins to let go of the fear. and yet he is still distant to aiko.
aiko learns to give him space too. megumi doesn’t know if he’s happy or not, but he doesn’t chase after aiko’s love anymore. there’s too much that’s happened and megumi no longer knows how to mend his relationship with his brother.
he knocks on aiko’s door, opening it slightly to check on his brother. he expected aiko to be on his phone or at his desk doing homework or on a call with either his friends or his family, but megumi’s not prepared to see aiko packing his things.
“aiko?” he begins, stepping into his room, “what’s going on?”
aiko looks up from where he’s sat beside his luggage and boxes, looking sincerely surprised as though it’s megumi who’s leaving.
“megumi!” aiko gasps, “you’re home early!”
“yeah, yuuji’s uncle visited. but, um, what’s this?”
“oh,” aiko says, body easing back and megumi joins him on the floor, “we’re moving!”
he said it so excitedly, beaming up at megumi. megumi smiles back at him before the words finally sank.
moving–
“you’re leaving?”
aiko nods, humming a bit as he starts putting his clothes inside the luggage. “mom’s giving birth to my sister soon so dad’s decided to buy a bigger place somewhere else.”
mom’s giving birth–
you are?
megumi doesn’t even know what’s going on in your life anymore. sure he was there when satoru married you—he and aiko were ring bearers—but he didn’t know anything past that. and aiko’s going to leave? just like that?
“will i,” megumi pauses, afraid to ask but desperate to know aiko’s answer, “see you ever again?”
“i don’t know,” aiko answers. “maybe yes, maybe no? i don’t know how far shibuya is, to be honest.”
enough. shibuya is far enough. megumi can’t even go visit him for casual hanging out or to see aiko’s new sister or to come check up on you.
fuck. his baby brother’s leaving and megumi doesn’t know if he will ever see him again. he thinks that he needs to say something, anything at all. but nothing is forming.
megumi’s finally realized that their time together has run out.
“can i help you with anything?” is all what megumi can conjure. aiko nods absentmindedly and megumi wishes that they have more than this few hours.
megumi talks to aiko during those two hours, filling up the silence and hoping aiko’s last memory of him is more than being a distant brother.
and yet, as he looks at aiko’s happiness, megumi realizes that that’s a happiness that megumi is no longer a part of.
when satoru picks aiko up after two hours, megumi hugs him tight. when he says goodbye, this time he knows it is for real.
“bye megumi!”
he just wished that aiko could call him big brother once again.
┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
a month later, you give birth to a girl. aiko posts a picture and megumi saves it and the many, many others that follow.
he watches as aiko grows into this amazing brother that megumi never was. and a part of him is so, so proud but the other half of him feels quite jealous.
he’s always wanted a family, a sibling, and yet he never did quite get both.
when aiko dyes his hair white, posting a picture beside his white haired sister with a caption that goes “finally matching,” megumi realizes that maybe he’s lost his brother for good.
#how we break#anon#ask#when gumi became distant aiko also follows his lead#and gradually the two of them may hang out but theyre not as close anymore when toji and the reader used to be together#aiko: my big bro doesnt like me anymore :) ok :)#and gumis like: damn i done fucked up :’(#toji fusjihuro#fushiguro toji#fushiguro megumi#megumi fushiguro#toji fushiguro jujutsu kaisen#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x reader#long post#suns.rq
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𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓!𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦
Warnings: Aged up/Older Ateez but age differences are still within legal boundaries. Suggestive scenarios only, no actual NSFW content.
❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰
"Hongjoong!" You continuously poked at his arm rather harshly, trying to get him to look away from the phone in his hands.
"What-what?!" He freaked out and accidentally dropped his phone on the floor.
When he saw you peeking over to see what had gotten him so interested, he quickly scrambled to pick it up before hiding it in his lap. That made you even more suspicious.
"What are you trying to hide?" You squinted your eyes at him.
Hongjoong gulped nervously, which made your anxiety rise up.
"No-nothing... " But obviously there was something if his eyes refused to look at you. The longer you stared at him, the more Hongjoong seemed to recoil back in his chair, looking like he was..... guilty? Ashamed?
Dropping your fork on the table, you held up an accusatory finger at him.
"I'm warning you right now Kim Hongjoong, if you're fucking cheating on me I will cut off your penis while you're sleeping!" You threatened him.
The color drained from Hongjoong's face but nonetheless he got up to go over and calm you down.
"No no babe! I'm not cheating on you! I swear." He promised you, even getting on his knees in front of you.
"Then what were you looking at that you didn't want me to see?"
Sighing softly, Hongjoong took out his phone and pulled up the picture that he was looking at: it was a really cute and girly crib with a pink bed setting. You had to admit you were surprised that it would be something he was so intently looking at.
"And tell me why you were so distracted by this? Who were you planning on buying this for? Our son is already 3 and I don't think he'll appreciate the frilly pink in his room." You tried reasoning with him.
"No it's not for him. I've just been seeing so many nursery ideas for baby girls and it kinda got me thinking...." He paused and layed a hand on your stomach as he bit down on his lip, hoping you'd catch on to what he was trying to say.
And you most certainly did.
"Hongjoong- are you telling me you actually want another baby?" You weren't put off by the idea but it was so sudden and unexpected that you didn't know how to react.
Standing upright, Hongjoong squeezed your cheeks and softly pecked your lips.
"I do. I want an adorable and beautiful little girl... just like you. " He chuckled adoringly as he pressed more kisses to your cheek, trying to coerce you into saying yes.
❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪
"Dang, could you imagine raising 6 kids?" You asked Seonghwa as you cuddled up closer to him, your hand stroking the little patch of skin that was peeking out of his pajama shirt while you two watched the old sitcom The Brady Bunch play on your tv.
"Well you'd never have a boring day for sure." He chuckled, placing a kiss on the top of your head.
You hummed softly, eyes never leaving the screen in front of you.
"True...but to think how exhausting it must be. We only have two and they take up most of our time."
Seonghwa laughed at how true your words were, your twins already nearing 5 years of age and boy were they a handful. If you weren't making sure they were doing well in school, you almost always had to deal with the boy pranking his sister or causing all kinds of mischief or you had your daughter coming up to you with the darnest of questions, one after another.
"But you can't deny they're adorable and they make our life happier." He reminded you, and you had to agree. Like Seonghwa said, there was never a boring day with your two munchkins around.
Feeling Seonghwa's fingers idly tap along your hip, you knew his mind was elsewhere and not on the show playing on the tv.
"Penny for your thoughts?" You asked him.
Seonghwa wondered whether it would be a good idea to say something but ultimately decided 'screw it.' Turning off the tv, he sat up and looked you straight in the eye.
"How would you feel about adding another member to the family?" He straight out blurted it out.
Although you knew what he meant, you decided to play like you didn't understand.
"I thought you said no pets because they make a mess." You giggled which caused Seonghwa to flick your head.
"You know that's not what I meant." He huffed out.
"I know, I know love...."
Grabbing the collar of his shirt, your fingers slowly began undoing the buttons.
"So.... you want another baby?"
Seonghwa felt himself hardening when he looked at your suggestive eyes.
"Yes." He breathed out, tongue swiping over his lips when you brought your face close to his.
"Wanna fuck another baby into me?" You smirked as you layed down on the bed and pulled him on top of you.
"Hell yeah-"
Your moment was interrupted when you heard the screeching of your daughter as she called out for you, ratting out her brother in his new prank. Seonghwa sighed loudly as he got up.
"Guess we're trying this another night."
❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸
Picking his son up from school, Yunho watched as the little boy waved goodbye to his friends who in turn ran to their respective parents. He noticed how the boy seemed to look with great curiosity at some of them, particularly when they would hug or mess around with the sibling that was accompanying their dad or mom. Even during the car ride home, Yunho would peer through the rear view mirror and saw the little boy fidgeting his tiny hands.
"What's up buddy? Something on your mind?" He asked.
His son looked around nervously before blurting out:
"Dad how come all of my friends have brothers or sisters but I don't?"
Yunho had to steady his grip on the steering wheel to keep from swerving onto the opposite lane. He was not prepared to be asked such a question by his son.
"I well umm..... mommy and I didn't know you'd want a sibling...."
Yunho looked back at his son through the rear view mirror, hesitating on his words.
"Do you want a brother or sister?"
The reaction on the boy's face was immediate, eyes growing big and sparkling.
"Yes! I want someone to play with every day too!" He squealed.
Yunho chuckled at his son's excitement. Getting out his phone, being careful not to take his eyes off the road, he made a quick call to Mingi and asked him if he could babysit for a couple hours, which his friend was more than happy to do. Yunho immensely thanked him and hung up.
"Well buddy, for today please settle for Mingi's daughter. Maybe this time you'll actually beat her in climbing up a tree faster."
Happy at getting his boy content and with entertained for a few hours, Yunho dropped him off at Mingi's place, the latter promising to take good care of him, which Yunho didn't doubt one bit. Getting back inside the car, he nearly drove over the speed limit just so he could get home as fast as possible. You were just finishing up setting up the table for lunch when Yunho came running inside.
"Hey, where's-"
You slightly gasped when Yunho cupped your face and began kissing you hungrily, his mouth devouring yours as his hands went to the back of your thighs so he could pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist.
"Yunho what has gotten into you? Where's my baby?" You finally asked when you were able to catch your breath.
"He's over with Mingi and he'll be there for a couple hours, perfect if you ask me."
You couldn't help the blush that spread across your cheeks when Yunho kicked open the door to your room and proceeded to lay you on the bed.
"Our son is lonely, he wants someone to play with and keep him company."
You giggled when you caught onto his meaning, tilting your head when he began peppering kisses along your jaw.
"So let's try and make him a sibling."
❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰
Yeosang and you calmly laid out the food on top of the picnic blanket, one of you looking over every once in a while at the pair of kids running around the park, making sure neither of them got hurt, which they didn't. You two merely exchanged amused looks when you heard their playful bantering.
"Hey! No fair! You cheated!" Your son accused his older half sister, face frowning at having lost in their game of hide and seek.
"Did not! You're just a sore loser." Eunbin called out.
Huffing loudly, your son stomped his tiny 4 year old feet away from her, but stopping midway to turn around dramatically.
"I liked you better when you'd let me win!" He exclaimed.
"And I liked you better when you couldn't talk and still needed to be changed. You were a lot cuter back then!" Eunbin replied, half snorting at her statement.
You and Yeosang tried not to burst out laughing right then and there, preferring to keep quiet, knowing they'd be friends again in 5 minutes and forget they even got mad at each other. You went back to your task of peeling fruit, so engrossed that you almost didn't hear Yeosang start talking.
"He was incredibly adorable as a baby, Eunbin isn't lying." He commented.
"Yeah he was. He looked like a little cherub. Squishy cheeks and button nose." You faintly squealed as you recalled all the times you'd stay by his crib and watched him sleep.
Yeosang also began reminiscing about those times, his mind starting to get ideas.
"What if we had another one?" He asked so casually.
"Another baby?" You raised your head to look at him.
"Yeah.... I mean... I kinda miss all those sleepless nights of crying, endless feeding, rocking them to sleep and changing diapers." Yeosang admitted.
"I did most of it though." You reminded him.
"I mean.... I helped didn't I?" Yeosang tried to argue.
"Actually Damian helped out, even if he was grouchy about it." You rolled your eyes.
Yeosang huffed. "So I take it this means no baby?"
"Now hold on, I didn't say that. I'm very open to the idea, but you know this isn't a decision to make ourselves."
Calling for your children over, they speedily made their way to you two, each of them sitting next to their favorite parent, Eunbin next to her father while your son scooted over with you, resting his head on your lap.
"Hey kids, what do you guys think about mommy and I getting you guys a brother or sister?"
❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷
"There you go princess. All nice and pretty like always. Remember to behave at school ok? And be nice...."
Looking over to make sure you weren't within earshot, San leaned in and whispered to his daughter.
"But if anyone is being mean to you, remember to do that thing I taught you."
The tiny pig tailed girl held up her tiny fists and proceeded to lift her foot up and kick the air, just like her father had secretly taught her to do when you weren't around.
"That's my girl! Love you."
Kissing the top of her head, he watched her get in the car that also contained Wooyoung's daughter, their mom waving from the driver's side before taking them both to school. As usual, San stayed by the doorstep and waited a couple minutes before heading back inside. He joined you in the kitchen, where you were busy washing dishes from breakfast. Feeling your husband hug you from behind, you looked over and pecked his cheek.
"What's wrong?" You asked when you saw his pouty face.
"I'm worried about our princess. What if something happens to her?" He was starting once more with his overprotective dad mode.
"San she's going to be fine." You assured him.
"How do we know for sure? We say that now but what about later in life? Soon she'll start growing up, start making her own decisions and- Oh my God! Boys! Some boy will try to take her away from me!" He screeched, pure panic on his face.
"And that's normal. She will attract boys, she will date, will get her heartbroken-"
"Oh no no no, anyone breaks her heart, I'll break their necks." He cracked his knuckles to get his point across.
"You can't spy on her 24/7 you know. You might not even know when someone is interested in her or if she's interested in someone." You tried explaining to him.
"Hmmm true....we need someone else to do the job.."
Turning you around, San had a mischievous look in his eyes as he began untying your robe.
"Maybe someone like a little brother to report to me anything that goes on in her life."
You scoffed at him. "Choi San, are you suggesting we have a kid merely so they'll become your little accomplice?"
San chuckled as he pulled your body against his.
"That and it's getting pretty gloomy in the house without our daughter. Another baby might cheer us up."
❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲
Mingi and you cooed at the tiny baby that was in Yunho's arms.
"He's so adorable." You squeaked when he brought it closer to you so you could get a better look at his tiny face
"And big." Mingi pointed out
"Yep, his mom felt that too while pushing him out." Yunho grimaced as he recalled the excruciating hours inside the delivery room.
"But it was all worth it in the end. We brought another healthy precious boy into the world and our son won't be so lonely anymore." Yunho continued as he looked over towards his son and your daughter who were currently immersed in their favorite tv show.
"Here, wanna hold him?"
Of course you did. Carefully taking the baby from his arms, you rocked him in your embrace, your heart nearly bursting out of your chest from how cute he was.
"Oh my god Mingi! He's the cutest thing ever." You whisper yelled, not wanting to cause the baby to cry or anything.
"I know. Doesn't it make you want another one?"
You whipped your head over at Mingi, who looked shocked that he actually said that.
"I mean- if you don't want to that's fine. I understand. After all, we already have our lovely daughter and I wouldn't want you to go through another pregnancy if you weren't up to it..." His babbling started to trail off, throat clearing as he felt embarrassed about what he said.
"Well look at that, he needs to be fed. Maybe it'll give you two time to talk." Yunho laughed slightly as he took the baby away and went to go prepare a bottle.
When Mingi looked back, you had your arms crossed over your chest, foot tapping against the floor. Your stare made him nervous.
"Song Mingi....do you want another baby?" You raised an eyebrow.
"I mean....I would but if you don't, I won't-"
You silenced him by pressing a kiss on his lips.
"I do. I think it'd be nice to grow our tiny family a little more." Your reply brought a smile to his face.
"Really? You mean it?"
You nodded immediately, giggling when he pressed more kisses on your lips.
"Can we start trying tonight?"
❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰
"Y/N, I need your opinion on something." Wooyoung called out for you.
Walking into the room, you saw him face deep on his laptop, scrolling the mouse down.
"What?" You asked as you came up behind him.
"You know how we've been talking about moving to a different area?" You nodded at his question. Indeed, you had both been discussing about moving to a neighborhood that was close to your daughter's school.
"Well I found a few options and I wanted to see if you liked any of them."
Hunching over slightly, you started looking at all the different houses Wooyoung found. They all looked pretty cozy and very spacious.. a little too big though.
"Ooh! That's the one I liked! It has this huge backyard and I was thinking maybe we could install a playground for our daughter out there. With swings and a slide. Or maybe a trampoline!" He excitedly poured out his ideas.
"Wooyoung these are all 4 bedroom houses though." You pointed out.
"Yeah. So?" He shrugged.
"It's literally just 3 of us, what on earth are we going to do with 2 spare rooms?" You questioned him.
"Well I mean....what if..it wasn't just us 3? What if 3 became 4...or even more?" He looked up at you as he bit down on his lip, his hands coming up to caress your hips in a suggestive manner.
Smiling fondly at him, you cupped his cheeks and hummed.
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" You smirked at him.
"Are you going to say yes?" He looked at you with a hopeful smile.
You pretended to think about it, but eventually sighed and gave in.
"Yes."
Wooyoung jumped up from his seat and crushed you in a tight embrace, his lips attacking your cheek with pecks that felt more aggresive than grateful.
"Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!" He repeated over and over again.
Running out of the room, he barged into your daughter's bedroom where he proceeded to pick her up and spin her around, the poor girl confused.
"Guess what babygirl?! We're moving to a new house and you're going to get a sibling!"
❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸
Jongho steadied the tiny girl on his lap who was bouncing out of emotion while watching the soccer game.
"Ok ok honey, settle down. I don't want you falling off or something." He said as his strong hands kept her in place.
You and your daughter proudly cheered for Hongjoong's son and his team as they continued to score goal after goal, eventually winning over the other team which sent all of the spectators into a frenzy.
"Oh my god! They actually won!" You clapped.
Overflowing with excitement, your daughter hopped off her dad's lap and ran full speed into the field where she proceeded to latch onto Hongjoong's son, her tiny arms clinging to him while the poor boy was looking scared and nudged for someone to help him.
"Of course she'd run over to him." Jongho let out a sigh.
"Upset that your little girl already has her first crush?" You teased.
"No- well yes, but no actually."
Sensing that something was the matter with him, you inched yourself closer to Jongho, your hand reaching out to hold his.
"Is something wrong?"
It took a while for Jongho to muster his thoughts, but he eventually laid out his worries to you.
"No, it's just.... don't get me wrong, I love our daughter very much, she's my whole world along with you. But I can't help but feel jealous of my friends with their sons. Taking them to soccer matches every weekend, teaching them how to kick a ball, score a goal, you know, activities for father son bonding times."
You understood what he was talking about and although he could very well try to teach those things to your daughter, she was much too delicate and girly for such things, not to mention she didn't have much of an interest in sports. Resting your head on his shoulder, you smiled as you suggested:
"Maybe we should start trying for a boy then. I think it'd be nice don't you?"
Jongho whipped his head at you, questioning if you were being serious or not. You grinned and kissed his nose, effectively letting him know you were indeed being serious. Giggling, he pulled you against him and kissed your forehead.
"I love you so much."
Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners
#ateez#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez fluff#ateez imagines#ateez fanfic#ateez fanfiction#ateez dilf au#dilf!ateez#ateez hongjoong#ateez seonghwa#ateez yunho#ateez yeosang#ateez san#ateez mingi#ateez wooyoung#ateez jongho
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though you weren’t mine [kmg]
—summary: new in town, with judgement following after every step she takes in life, the least she expects is to find a box filled with cd’s that reads ‘throw away’ written in messy handwriting on its cardboard surface. when looking at the videos, she realizes there is a highlight to her day—as if he was part of a sitcom, and his name is kim mingyu.
the downside? she doesn’t know where to find him. once existing in the same house as hers, no one knows where he went, but his smile remains petrified inside her head.
—title: though you weren’t mine
—pairing: kim mingyu x reader
—genre: photographer!au ; musical actress!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; videocamera!au
—type: fluff ; angst ; suggestive ; romance ; drama ; humor ; slowburn
—word count: 25,891
—warnings: mentions of alcohol, death (though briefly), and past relationships.
Three onions. One head of garlic. Lettuce, clinging to the space in between his teeth and still, her seat companion in the train doesn’t close his mouth for the slightest bit.
As far as she knows—and it has been two hours of conversing with this man, so she’s knowledgeable enough to speak—, he worked in refineries. A little bit over seventy, with a white chemise cladding his body, tucked inside a pair of beige pants. The rounded glasses on the bridge of his nose keep falling, but he keeps playing with them as he speaks about the most miniscule of matters. For one, in 1997, his wife left him for his best friend, and secondly, his youngest is starting to look more like his (please, say ex) best friend with the passage of time.
Now, she is not a DNA expert, neither is she a fortune teller to be able to foresee the future when she got in this train, against her will, only to fulfill her biggest dream.
The city awaits her entrance, and when she gets there, she hopes to take a big bite of the world, mix dance and singing, along with acting, in order to further emphasize her spot in the industry. Break the malicious curse that follows everyone in her blood, only destroying their careers under the weight of their actions.
“And, you know what she did?” Licking the mayonnaise off his thumb after taking a big bite of his sandwich, the older male continues with his story as she lulls her head against the window. For one second, her eyes divert towards the pink clouds accompanied by lilac skies. Trees swing with the harsh wind, three days-worth of spending her time with Jinho over here sounding like the worst of experiences. “My daughter told me she doesn’t want to college after all. Can you imagine that? I paid for her education in four different majors, and she dropped out of all of them…because she wants to be, and hear me out,” As if she hasn’t been doing that for the entirety of the train ride. “A YouTuber.”
“Oh no.” Acting is her forte. Fake crying without a single droplet of water thrown at her face. Elongating words. Dramatics. All of the like—it’s what theater means, but at this point, her tiredness trails after her sentence. “Yeah, all that money…gone to waste…sir, that’s terrible.”
Just as terrible as the way he is eating this sandwich.
Smacking his lips once again, the man shakes his head. “What was your name again?” He asks, for the umpteenth time, and she lets her lips wrap around her name. She may change at this point, something easier, just so this man stops talking about himself and starts to be a proper companion instead. “Yeah, always be sure of what you’re going to do. There are millions of people you can disappoint, and they will tell you they will support you through everything and anything, but it’s a lie.”
“Ah-ha.” She drags, trying her hardest not to scrunch up her face. Instead, she rummages through the pocket of her black coat, looking for the perfect distraction that is her phone. “I think someone is calling me, Mr. Jinho, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Yes, yes!” The old man speaks quickly, taking the last bite of his sandwich only to speak with his mouth full after. “I hope it’s good news!”
After moving his legs from the side, she makes a bee-line towards the bathroom. Brown leather seats on each side of her, with people talking normally, softly, and yet, seemingly happier than her with her train ride. Her friends insisted on this—something of the like of ‘humbleness’ in their whole speech when giving her the train tickets that would take her to her newest pursue in life. Away from her well-known family, and the judgement that weights her down even when she opens the door to the bathroom and closes it behind her.
An unpleasant whiff of air has her sighing deeply. Great. The white tiled walls and sunflowers decorations do nothing to make her feel less like an outcast in this train. Though, she needs to sit down and look through her phone for a while, perhaps pee before getting out of there, and hoping that Jinho’s sandwich did its job in getting him to sleep. Her feet steps forward, putting down the toilet seat in hopes of not even seeing anything inside to compare to the smell in here, before taking a seat on top of the toilet.
Fuck my life, she thinks.
One day you’re at the top of the world, the next, you’re seated on top of a toilet with suspicious contents. Life, some call it.
As if the afternoon couldn’t get any worse, she unlocks her phone, a series of messages from her best friend appearing on the screen. God, she misses her. Leaving her best friend behind while having a medical emergency is one of the choices, she thinks she will never forgive herself for making. What kind of friend does that? She has no idea. Yet, Miyoung practically shouted at her to go follow that dream. The musical’s rehearsals started this month, and she couldn’t miss the opportunity of finally reaching proper stardom. Not word from mouth, but with actions instead.
Earlier, she had asked:
To: Miyoung.
How’s your foot doing?
Though, probably napping, it took Miyoung four hours to answer.
From: Miyoung.
Still connected to my leg, so far, so good.
But…haven’t you seen the news?
News? No. Well, if she’s not counting Jinho’s romantic history—and family timeline, at that—since 1991.
If the child isn’t really his…why would he be telling some stranger in the train?
To: Miyoung.
I was supposed to know any news?
From: Miyoung.
OMG.
Enter my account. Check your ex’s Instagram.
And tell me where we’re hiding the body.
Miyoung, God bless her, is the purest figure skater she knows. The woman follows everyone in social media without caring if they stepped on her heart with all her might, or did something to her friends. Her ex-boyfriend, a very famous comedian, is not the exception. While she had hit headlines for unfollowing him on social media—and vice-versa—, Miyoung does wonders on keeping her updated. Two weeks it has been since their break up, and she has never been readier to move on.
Though, upon opening his social media, she’s welcomed by the usual—parted black hair, curved eyebrows, downturned and bored eyes, with slim lips and a tall frame that bends against its will forward, his stance normally accompanied by baggy, stylish clothes that more often than not rake the smell of alcohol and weed. On this occasion, however, someone else clings by his side and the man does not have the utmost decency to make the picture a little bit less like it belongs to some raunchy college student’s Instagram profile.
His big hand, that linked with hers, and touched her skin in promises of forever, splays on top of the woman’s butt. Gorgeous in more ways than one, with long curled hair and a smile on her lips as he kisses her cheek. The worst part? That she dated someone who captioned this picture, with God-knows-what-kind-of-model, in the worst of ways.
Her stomach churns when she reads: “Here with the main bitch.”
Ugh. Delete all the kisses. Erase all the memories of ever sleeping with him. Create a time-machine so she can slap herself across the face and tell herself ‘he’s not even that funny, wake the hell up’.
To: Miyoung.
Ew.
From: Miyoung.
You don’t care?
To: Miyoung.
Of course, I care.
I kissed that.
I made out with that.
I let that fuck me.
From: Miyoung.
Sid-looking ass.
Fuck him.
All those times Miyoung told her not to date him, and there she was, making a fool of herself.
To: Miyoung.
We don’t judge people by their appearance here.
But he’s trash.
From: Miyoung.
Two weeks, girl.
It took him two effing weeks to get over you.
It shouldn’t hurt, right? Though, her heart contracts a little at the touch of disappointment. Never had she trusted someone as much as she did with her ex, and there she is. Forgotten. Mocked. Poked fun at.
The second bitch.
The ‘no-one-cares’ bitch.
Fuck.
To: Miyoung.
I’ll get over him too, just watch.
From: Miyoung.
Oh, babe, I know.
And you’re on your way to it.
With certainty, even in this goddamned train, with a smelly bathroom and a talkative seat companion, she can do it. Reach her dream. Get a name. Never need a man ever again.
Everything is going to be fine. It always is for her, and this won’t be the exception.
###
Everything is not fine.
Brick walls clad the building in front of her. Tall enough for it to even be considered a skyscraper, creating shadows across her body. The world is much bigger than hers, and yet, sometimes she thinks she is the center of it all. A white screen with black lines showcases the name of one of the newest musicals to be performed tonight at nine, but she can only imagine how her debut in the musical world will look like on her first night. Twinkling lights from the night falling in love with the title of her play—When The Kids Fall Asleep.
When she read the script, she was actually aiming to find some small spot in a TV series, waving in the back or saying three lines. Instead, she came across this piece of magic because of her manager, whom was once her mother’s manager. The story read almost like a book, the demos filling her ears when she asked for a demonstration for her audition, the story of four families that conjoined when trying to reach their dreams without telling the children about the hardships of the real world. For them, everything must be perfect.
Her character, she had fallen in love with. Poor yet leader-like through everything, trying to raise a three-year-old without making her miss a single meal. When she falls asleep, she has to live off earning money by selling meals and, continuously, finding it harder to feed her little family and working as a stripper.
Doing justice to such a role may erase the mistakes lingering in her past.
With a push of the door, the cold metal handle meeting her fingertips, a new world is introduced to her. Rows and rows of burgundy seats, all staring towards the not-so-empty stage. People scatter around, some extending their limbs, others taking sips of water, but the swish of the door closing behind her catches some people’s attention.
The director is someone she knows. The strands of her bleached blonde hair are pushed behind her ears, tightened by a hair-tie to keep it in place. A tall nose, plush lips, and a set of thick glasses meet her enigmatic, yet serious face. A black turtleneck covers most of her body, long limbs and stylized slender body making her look more like a model than a director. Practically glued to her chest is the printed version of the script, and the closer she gets, the more the golden lights scatter across Kaleigh’s body.
“Look at that, if that isn’t our fashionably late rock-star.” The chuckle that rips through Kaleigh’s lips fakes every single emotion that could be mustered in this situation. A sharp breath in makes her curse herself internally. Well, she’s definitely not used to having to take the subway…and definitely not use to people not waking her up. Her manager is there for that, but now he’s too far away from her to actually work as a babysitter, as well.
“Sorry,” She breathes out, hands threading with the straps of her hoodie before smiling softly. “I…I didn’t know how to catch the subway.”
“Are you kidding me?” Kaleigh asks, mocking tone in her voice ever-present, clapping her hands together as if watching the most ridiculous of comedies. “Your family isn’t famous enough for you to act as if you’re out and about in limousines.”
Truthfully, yes. A family of rock-stars, like her mother, that happened to leave the band in search of a better chance, only for her first solo album to fail in the charts. Of models that never went past the runways. Of singers that remained as one-hit-wonders and producers that never got to have names remembered in the world of music. It’s always a peak and then a downfall for her family’s curse.
…But, she does have enough money not to worry for the rest of her life, so there is something good about being criticized throughout her entire life for the family she grew up in. “Well…no, but I’m used to people driving me around. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
Upon sparing one glance towards the stage, Kaleigh must understand that she wants this conversation to be over. “Whatever,” She instructs, deep voice lingering with tiredness. “This is your team. You can get to know them as you practice. This is the first time the entire cast is together.”
Her eyes scan towards the groups of people, all of which she had studied from the printed version of the script she read when Jinho had finally fallen asleep on the train. Thank God, she almost thought that man was going to get off the train with her and follow her around. One of the male leads, she recognizes as Jaehyo, tall and over his thirties, short brown hair accompanying widened eyes, almost deep-looking. A vibrato to die for, as she saw per his audition.
“You’re Jaehyo, right?”
The man looks up from his script, a crooked smile appearing on his features that perhaps, gives him the attractiveness of that one friend’s young dad that she would look at when she was a child, unaware of why her cheeks would heat up at the mere sight of him. “You know me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Going up the set of stairs, she looks around the room once again. Small woman, black short hair, a rounded face with speckles of brown across her cheeks, matching her orange blush. The best dancer of the team, definitely. “And that’s Sue. She plays Joah’s character.” Of course, how could she not? Joah is one of the background characters, but thrilling in its own way. The owner of the strip-club, and the one that takes care of the children in the house of the four families, trying to paint a perfect picture of broken shreds. “And you are—”
Upon pointing at the woman seated by the edge of stage, the light wood carving against her uncovered, toned thighs, she hears Hyun’s sharp tone. The main star, the oldest child—twenty-one, that figures out that her mother is a stripper and goes on a rampant of wanting to take over the same steps. She’s a triple threat, that’s for sure—singing like a goddess, dancing like she belongs to the stage, and acting like she lived through the same experience.
“Are you over with your little Wikipedia search revising speech?” Hyun says, moving her long brown hair away from her shoulders to look at her with sharp almond eyes, her plush lips pursed, though still beautiful with the blaring anger inside her casting over her features. “You’re late. We don’t have time for you to play the fangirl character.”
Hyun stands up at the same moment that she shares her anger with everyone else in the stage. Jaehyo, on one hand, is the one to speak up first. “Hey, we weren’t even waiting for that long—”
“So, just because she has money, we have to excuse her diva behavior?” Running her hands over her gray shorts, Hyun gets in position, staring at Kaleigh.
“Look who’s talking.” She spits out, looking up and down at the woman that she had once thought was the best addition to the team, now seems to be up and against her, ready to blare Achilles’ cholera all the way towards her. “The only one making a fuss over me being twenty minutes late here is you—”
“Because my time is valuable, unlike what you think.” Hyun responds just as she gets close, sparing one glance towards Kaleigh. “Right? I’m the main lead. If I can get here early, so can you.”
“Shit, sorry.” She whispers, a frown appearing on her features. “I’ll make sure to get here two hours earlier because your character is so much more important than mine.”
“Well,” Kaleigh interrupts at that moment, hooking her fingers around one of her dangling diamond earrings. “It’s not wrong. Hyun is our star. If she gets here on time, so can you.”
Lowering her head just at the same time that a smile appears on Hyun’s face, she sighs. “It won’t happen again, I promise. I’m sorry.”
Her dream scatters right in front of her, both from her wrongdoings and for the way that Kaleigh looks at her up and down, before nodding. “Doesn’t matter. We can work on various things as you’re here. You have a lot to improve.” Kaleigh answers, a smile reaching her cheekbones. “For now, just stand in the back and watch the professionals do so.” Her hand extends towards Hyun, exclaiming her utmost ambition and hope for her presence in this play.
“For every scene?”
“Yes. You can dance in the back.” Kaleigh finalizes with a tilt of her head. “Ah…does that bother you?”
“Well, if I’m in the back for every scene, I won’t be able to deliver my lines properly—”
“Honey, here’s how this works—” Kaleigh starts, extending one leg in front of her before playing with the edge of her script. Never does she break eye-contact, even when she is stepping on her heart. “You are new, but you aren’t new to the public. You’ve dated a few good names, appeared on magazines since you were a child…and you’re kind of good, but we’re aiming for publicity here. If you’re here with us, we make this play more profitable and, hence, we can continue displaying it for however long they let us. And, with the passage of time, you can step forward and be looked at more…but you’re not as good as the rest, as easy as that.”
Then, why did she get accepted? Once again, the light of her family’s curse casts down on her, creates shadows on the kind of person she can be. Just when her lips are about to part, trying to shelter her pride with the utmost knowledge of how this industry works, Kaleigh claps her hands together.
“In your spots. First scene. The kids are waiting behind the stage, I need you to deliver those lines as if you’re in the verge of hunger. And you better be, we’ll be here the entire day.”
It’s not like how she imagined it to be. So far in the stage that she can’t even see the seats, the light casting down on Hyun even when she is not in the scene. Her voice dulls, every line coming out of her lips with less enthusiasm as the practice passes by. Just a publicity stunt, that’s why she was accepted. Tears weld up in her vision, and they are not exactly her character’s…but now she is here, and she has to make do with her dream.
###
There’s one point of a person’s lives where they can no longer see their friends as much as they hope to. Life gets busy, some create families, others hunt for their biggest professional goals, and then, she’s left in solitude, carrying the boxes that were left outside of her new house by the moving truck. Spacious, perfect for two to three people, and yet only there for her to live in. Somewhere in a suburbs-like spot, with plenty of families staring at her as a groan leaves her lips upon the lumbar ache on her back. Whatever. If normal people can do it, so can she.
The trees on her front yard move with the wind, same as her hair, trying her best to go up the set of white stairs that lead to her gray doorstep, the ‘welcome’ rug in front making her feel less like this is her home. Her friends and family are not here, and the friends that she has here are too busy with their own lives to help her unpack as much as possible. Along with that, she has to go over her lines and avoid delivery in order to use the kitchen as much as possible.
When she drops the last box on the living room, the gray tiles and the white doors giving an elegant vibe in contrast to the cardboard, her hands rest on her waist. The only thing she has managed to do after getting home from practice three days ago was construct some shelves for her TV, and put a bed in the bedroom to sleep in, but other than that, the house is empty. The couch welcomes her weight when she throws herself over it.
Okay. It could be worse. She has a ceiling over her head.
…And a mattress, a kitchen, a TV and a shelf.
But she has worn the same clothes at home for the past four days.
Lifting the white sweater up to her nose, she sniffles deeply. Clean, apparently, but that’s something she has to deal with as well—laundry as soon as possible, because of her amount of outfit changes during practice. Her eyes close tightly, as if she would be able to ease the headache appearing inside her head in the matter of seconds, but when she opens them again, she’s welcomed by the same white shelf she constructed, and the little wood shelf by its side that came with the house.
Though, it’s more like a cabinet, there’s a door to it, and it’s not locked, swinging back and forth with a squeak. Maybe, she should get rid of that before actually starting. Standing up again, each muscle hurting from endless hours of practicing and now for carrying around seven boxes inside her house, her slippers clank against the flooring until she kneels in front of the cabinet, opening the door and sighing out of glee of not having to hear the movement of the wind against it.
A box is inside, the words ‘throw away’ written in capitals and blue marker ink. Better follow what the owners wanted, it could be some haunted doll that she has to get out before it eats her alive at night. Though, just as she lifts the box in between her hands, ready to throw it away or recycle it, the bottom portion opens, letting a bunch of CD’s fall on her feet.
Ouch, but also, huh?
Is this the old owner’s porn stack?
She should just throw them away, but when her fingers wrap around the CD’s, she reads the titles written in the same blue ink. Anniversary. Date. Bed. New York.
Ooh, bed sounds kinky…
Is it an amateur sex tape?
Better check it before she throws it away and people look through it, right?
Thankfully, numbers are scattered across the CD’s, small enough for her to almost ignore them, but upon grabbing her laptop from the coffee table, she slides the CD in. All in order, she starts with number one.
Maybe, a sex tape would be better…it wouldn’t have captured her heart quite like this.
###
01: NEW YORK.
“Ah, Kim Mingyu, don’t leave me behind like that!”
Groups of people scatter in front of the recorder. Tall buildings, in colors from grays, blacks, whites to browns, read out the typicality of New York, as per the title. Bustling, with barely any space from one person to the other, like lovers marching on their way to success. The person with the camera lets it shake a few times with her steps, the tone sweet and melodious as she calls out the same name again. Kim Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. Babe.
Definitely her boyfriend.
Upon reaching a wide back with a navy-blue thick coat thrown over it, the person with the camera expands her free hand on his back, sharp breaths leaving her lips, trying to regain her composure. She moves over to the side, finally showing the face of the culprit of her distress. A car passes by so fast that it swooshes his hair, the brown strands moving away to showcase his gorgeous golden skin. Not only is that gorgeous about him, but the fold of his romantic eyes, one squinted as he holds a camera up his face, taking a few pictures of the Times Square, accompanied by his defined nostrils, straight nose and dried, thin lips that he licks in the matter of seconds before looking over towards his girlfriend.
God has favorites.
“Log number one of the lives of Mingyu and Yoona. We are out here in New York to celebrate our second anniversary, isn’t that right, Mingyu?” Her voice is dulcet enough to compete against popsicles and candy. Mingyu seems to sense that, a twinkle in his eyes when looking down at the person recording him.
But he’s a camera person, she can tell that much. When he turns towards the camera, he extends his arms as wide as possible. “We’re here to celebrate two years of me standing Yoona and not dying in the process.”
Yoona slaps him in the arm for that comment, laughter ripping from his lips. “No, say why we’re really here.”
Mingyu looks around for a second, grabbing her hand before dragging her along through the busy streets. “I’ve always wanted to come to New York, so I thought that coming with you would be the best way to experience it.”
“And why are we recording us?”
“…Because I plan to audition for Hollywood so we can be like Brad and Angelina.”
“…They divorced, Mingyu.”
“They didn’t.” Mingyu replies, though he is clearly in the wrong. “Why would they—?”
“Because people get divorced, Mingyu.” Yoona reasons, far more knowledgeable than her boyfriend. “But be honest, why are we recording ourselves?”
At last, he looks away, the timer of the video growing smaller and smaller as he stares ahead. Slowly, a smile takes over his features, filling his cheeks when he says: “This is log one of the videos we’re going to show our children once we become a family in the far future.”
“Or not so far.”
Staring into the camera, Mingyu shrugs. “You never know.”
And that’s how it ends. With that precious smile of his giving hope to those who don’t believe in love, for it’s clear that he’s in love with whoever is recording him.
###
02: BED.
The door of what is now her bedroom opens up in the video, the same recorder not knowing how to keep the camera upright as she moves toward the spacious bed. Her knees hit the bed, stealing a huff away from the man thrown on the bed as his hands come forward just as his body does, grabbing the culprit that interrupted his sleep by jumping on him.
“Morning, morning, birthday boy!” His face is much more swollen than in the last video, his dark hair tousled everywhere as his eyes squint, try to look at the camera before closing entirely, throwing himself back in the mattress with a sigh.
“I’ll go back to sleep.”
But, Yoona keeps pushing, resting her weight on top of Mingyu, showcasing the pictures of them splayed on their respective bedside tables, before patting her hand against his cheek. “Wake up, it’s April 6th.”
“I know that day it is…” His voice drags, pressing his cheek to the white, comfortable pillow that seems to include a dampened spot created by him.
“Okay, kids. You may watch this ten years from now or something, let’s hope your dad isn’t as grumpy in the mornings as he is right now.” Yoona instructs, jumping a bit on his abdomen only to watch him not relenting at all. “Your dad was born on April 6th, 1997—” Oh, same year that Jinho was left by his wife. What a coincidence. “Shall we sing happy birthday for him?”
The video ends with a smile appearing on Mingyu’s face the more the song goes on in that lulling voice, reaching upwards to steal a kiss from her only for the camera to cut short.
The guy’s charming, she’ll give him that.
###
07: DRUNK.
Mingyu’s flushed face seems a bit older, his hair pushed away from his face as he rests his forehead against the refrigerator. It’s not the same one in her kitchen right now, but the division is the same, so it’s technically still in this house. Only when Yoona comes close to him, stumbling a bit on her steps, does he look up, waving his hand at the camera, the sleeve of his white and red sweater coming down his hand.
“Min…gyu…” Yoona has trouble forming coherent sentences, though Mingyu’s smile is ever-present. Happiness bleeds through him when being with her. “Mingyu, dance for the camera. Make that money worth, baby.”
The man chuckles, lifting his hands in the air and swinging his hips from side to side comically, earning a few whistles, howls and cheers from some people, perhaps equally as drunken as him, only to end up getting close to the camera and saying, with his handsome features pressed up close to the device:
“I wanna throw up.”
This video definitely has a smile plastering on her face. Funny.
###
10: ANNIVERSARY.
“Kim Mingyu, welcome to our log. We haven’t talked here for a while.”
Mingyu looks away from the scenery outside of the car, perhaps a taxi given by the position, moving the hood of his black sweater away from his head and fixing the sunglasses on his face to rest just at the tip of his nose to look at the camera. “You’re recording again?” Mingyu asks, though he is already waving at the camera and by the lack of response, she must have nodded at him.
“It’s October 13th, that means we have been together for three years.” Yoona starts, just at the same time that Mingyu grabs her hand, brings it up to his lips and presses a petal of a kiss to her knuckles. God, she should really stop watching this if she doesn’t want to feel lonelier. Why does she always pick the bad ones? Yoona has good tastes! “What are your thoughts on love, Mr. Kim?”
Mingyu leans his head back, though he looks at her from the corner of his eyes. “Stop calling me Mr. Kim.”
“Okay, go on Kim Mingyu.”
“It’s alright to just call me Mingyu.”
“I’m the one with the camera, shut it.”
Though, the man in question tries to find the right words, a goofy smile appearing on his features before extending his hands, as if further help himself explain. “Love is comfort? It’s what you expect, really. Ah…everyone thinks, at least once in their lives, that they are going to find someone and then, you just do.”
“Mingyu,” Yoona threatens, somewhat of a hiss to her tone. “What a bad answer.”
“It’s an answer!” He replies, widening his eyes and lifting his tone comically.
“And how did you know it was me?”
Mingyu pauses for a second, his lips joining together to give a tight-lipped smile before shrugging. “I just knew.”
###
13: RING.
“It’s recording.” A joyful voice, though belonging to a man, speaks from behind the camera before Mingyu lowers his weight to stand in front of the camera, taking off his black hoodie to wave.
“Hi,” Mingyu instructs, though the busy exterior must be getting him nervous, looking around before smiling sweetly. For one second, he looks like the modern version of a Prince. “I’m here today to buy Yoona an engagement ring. Seungkwan is recording me…and…yeah, I’ll just show you the process of me finding the perfect ring.”
Though, the man recording is more given to being on camera, turning it around and moving to Mingyu’s side so they are both in camera. His bright red hair and innocent features match his overexcited nature. “Welcome everyone. I’m here because my ring size is the same as Yoona’s. Mingyu and Yoona—”
Mingyu chuckles, hiding his hands behind his back before shaking his head. “This is not a broadcast, dude.”
“What do you know, Mingyu?”
The rest of the video displays memories of Seungkwan speaking into the camera and recording Mingyu as he picks the perfect ring. Rose gold with five diamonds, one that says costs him more than he even has and made him ask for money from all his group of friends.
Love has a meaning then.
###
14: I SAID YES.
This video is much shorter, though she can already recognize Seungkwan’s lively voice as he records the lovely couple. Yoona, with her bangs falling across her forehead, thin lips and big eyes stares up at Mingyu when she hugs him, his knees dusted because of his kneeling position in front of her. The ring dazzles against the light of the salon they all find themselves in—perhaps, some event, with pink balloons and golden decorations.
Mingyu, as happy as ever, wraps his arms around her waist, lowering his lips until they connect with hers. Not missing a bit, a smile appears over his features, as per usual with Yoona, but the woman only displays her ring to the camera.
“It’s finally happening!”
###
31: DELETE.
Yoona spends two good minutes talking about the wedding, the decorations, the elegance of her designer dress that she paid too much for. Definitely not in their ordinary room, the city twinkles darkly on the opened, spacious windows of the hotel they are staying in, the beige desk and the champagne curtains matching. Her hair is shorter, her voice different, fixing her eyelashes and her bangs as much as possible whenever she speaks.
Mingyu lowers his weight beside her, resting his cheek on her shoulder just as she is speaking, but she cuts herself off to look over her shoulder. “Mingyu…” Her voice lowers, taking his face in between her slim hands to look at his features. Ready for bed, he seems to be, dark bags surrounding his eyes and the figure of a shadow around his lips making Yoona shake her head. “You haven’t shaved and the wedding is tomorrow. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
For someone’s whose language had been lively and lovely throughout the recordings, this surprises her. What happened to Yoona? Mingyu stares up at her, pushing his hair away from his face. “I’ll shave tomorrow,” His smile falls then, frowning up at her. “If I shave now, it’s not going to be perfect tomorrow.”
“You look disgusting with that rat on your face.”
“It isn’t even noticeable, come on.”
“Of course, it is!” Yoona complains, huffing when she leans back on her seat, bringing her knees up her chest as she has a stare-off with Mingyu. Before he could say anything, she interrupts him. “I don’t even know how I’m going to kiss you tomorrow with that thing—”
Mingyu stands up then, pointing at the camera as he snaps, getting away from the main screen. “It’s not like you do anything remotely nice anymore unless you’re recording us.”
Yoona looks over her shoulder, talking to Mingyu. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“The only moment you’re truly happy with me is when you’re talking to these nonexistent children of ours—”
“You said you wanted children, Mingyu.”
“…I do, but it’s—it’s not—to have children, you have to do more than just record the good parts of your relationship to show them just how perfect their parents were.”
Yoona scoffs, rolling her eyes while looking at the camera. “Well, I thought I had a perfect boyfriend, you see, but the more comfortable you get, the stupider you become.”
Mingyu stops on his tracks, moving over to the camera before placing one hand over it. Though, by the ministrations and the movement, Yoona seems to flick it off. “Turn that shit off.” He threatens, voice levelled, only to have her shaking her head. “Yoona, I said to turn that shit off. I’ve recorded every time you wanted, but it’s enough. We already—”
“Did I ask for your opinion, Mingyu?”
“I—”
“I didn’t ask, so keep it to yourself, okay?” The man actually listens, biting down on his bottom lip before rushing his hands through his hair a few times, grasping at his scalp one last time before moving over to the mattress. Yoona checks if he is around one more time before leaning her weight forward, resting her elbow on her desk. “Like I said, my dress is by Belle Epoque—”
Though, she can’t bring herself to watch any more of the last log, meant to be deleted.
###
In the middle of the night, lacking sleep yet raging insomnia like it is her job to blare thoughts inside her head as per musical notes, she figured out something. Nonsense is timeless, and staying in the far back of the stage, along with her companions, only to make Hyun shine the harshest is not what she imagined when moving out here. It’s not what she desired, and it’s not going to happen.
The instrumental of Jaehyo’s first solo runs through the empty stage, three hours earlier than Hyun could ever get to the practice room. The man gives a few steps forward, extending his arms on each side of his body as if to ask for instructions.
When calling her name, he adds: “I don’t know why we’re here.”
Though she pauses the instrumental, there is certainty in her voice, pushing her messy hair back, trying to unglue her eyelids that remain touched to the other because of her lack of sleep. One sip of caffeine should be enough for now. “It’s not fair that we’re getting pushed to the back when we have solos. Hyun shouldn’t be the main dancer of your solo.” She instructs, staring at Jaehyo’s surprised expression. “So, we’re preparing something else to show to Kaleigh.”
Jaehyo chuckles at her words, rubbing his hands against his face. “I don’t think she’s going to accept it.” He tells, letting go of his cheeks to add. “Hyun is, also, too much of a strict main for me to go against her just like that—”
“You’re thirty-five Jaehyo, grow up.” Her words come out harshly, days of standing Hyun’s verbal stabs catching up on her. Take for example Kim Mingyu, the God made Prince in the videos she watched. Gorgeous, elegant, somehow sweet, and yet, following through with a marriage that probably made him unhappy in the long run. She doesn’t have the time to lose the opportunity of shining. “…You’re excellent with choreography, and I can help with some of the vocals—”
“I think she’s right.” Sue says after slipping out from the back of the stage, the red curtains dragging over her body, much more energized than anyone in this room. “Hyun is the most talented of our team, but we are not Hyun and her little group of backup dancers. We are also characters.”
Nodding, she agrees. “Exactly.”
Jaehyo looks back towards Sue, then up again at one of the youngest of the team before rolling his finger in the air. “Okay, start the instrumental again. I think I can make up some new moves.”
Jaehyo’s body moves with precision, professionalism at its finest as he makes every step count into the road of heartbreak that his character finds himself to be in, driven by addiction, stopped by his reality. One arm forward, fingers curling with each word he says, notes hit at the same time that his lines are delivered. The talent in the room palpitates with what Kaleigh can’t see, a trio of people who would love to work with Hyun but end up down-casted by the light of her endless talents.
Hours pass by, and she is reminded why she started liking musicals on the first place. Seated on her grandmother’s lap, on the first row of Broadway musicals, staring at the dancers and the actors, the way a story could come to life with the three best versions of art. A nod of her head, a hum of her voice, a vibrato or two, a falsetto when she’s feeling brave…it all comes together with a version of When The Kids Go To Sleep that the world deserves to see.
Though, the middle of the morning hits with the entrance of another person. The doors open, closing harshly behind the culprit, interrupting the line that she is breathing into the air continued by elongated, quickened steps. When she stares ahead, past the rows of empty seats, she sees Hyun’s small face, her typical sport-like outfit cladding her immaculate body.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, newbie?” Hyun asks, not even conscious of her steps as she goes up the set of stairs and stands in front of her. The music comes to a halt thanks to Jaehyo, whom rushes down the stage with a jump and pauses the Bluetooth speakers, but she isn’t back down. Not with this bitch.
“Practicing, babe. What do you think I’m doing?”
“Ruining the musical, for example.” Her reply has her balling her fists. Not that she has ever been part of a physical fight—oh, but she has been close, and she thinks that if she can land a fake punch for a scene, a real one shouldn’t be that difficult. “…This part of the stage…” Hyun steps forward, tapping her shoes against the spot she was in, jutting her chest outwards to bring her back. “This is mine, and you have to earn this spot—”
“Stop it with the dramatics, God. We’re not in High School Musical, stop acting like a child.” She groans out, throwing her head back at Hyun’s antics.
“You say that because you’re just used to things going your way. So, the pretty little princess can’t get used to being shadowed for once.”
Sue takes this moment to step forward, placing her hands on both of their chests. “Hey, let’s stop this—”
“Fucking whatever celebrity passes by you didn’t work for you, and that’s your fault. Now, this is my dream, and you don’t get to ruin it because you feel like the attention is not on you for once.” Hyun continues speaking, lifting her voice with each moment that passes. Pushing Sue to the side, she gets closer to her, breaths mingling with the nonsense she is speaking into the air. What does she know about her past what the media says? Judgmental bitch.
“You don’t know me. Stop talking as if you do, bitch.”
“Oh, baby, a bitch?” Hyun asks, placing one hand on top of her chest before chuckling. “Ouch. What level of bitch? The usual, level one bitch or level ten, horny bitch like yourself?”
“Regret that.” She pushes, wrapping her fingers around Hyun’s shirt to bring her closer, only to watch the woman chuckle.
“What? You’re going to kiss me like you do with every little celebrity friend of yours?”
Fire bursts within her vision, not counting her breaths when her free hand comes forward and slaps the woman across from her straight on the cheek. Two steps back make her realize exactly what she did, Hyun’s smile faltering with the gasp that leaves her lips. Her chest heaves up and down, hand tingling and burning under the weight of her ministrations…but fuck, it felt good to shut her up for once.
The media has portrayed every mistake, blown it out of proportion, and made a mess out of her life. She was never judged as a normal person, but as the daughter of celebrities instead. It’s not fair for whatever the media portrayed to continue to follow her even when she’s trying to earn a name for yourself.
Sue exclaims at that moment. “Stop it, you two!” Resting one hand on Hyun’s shoulder, she helps her up only to have Hyun walking forward, ready to retreat the precious gift of pain. “Hey, no! Stop it!” Sue tugs Hyun by her small waist, trying to keep her in place.
“Who’s the bitch now?”
“I’m going to fucking kill you—”
“Stop it!” Jaehyo screams from his spot, coming towards the stage again. For someone who avoids arguments, he seems to be angered. “Let’s just…let’s just wait for Kaleigh to get here, practice, and forget this ever happened, okay? We’re a team, we’re not here to harass each other.”
Though, not a single word comes out of her lips, but a glare from Sue tells her that she needs to speak up. “Okay, I won’t do it again.”
Yet, when she turns around, tears weld up in her vision. A broken dream, her pride shattered, and a past that will follow her whether it is true or not…that’s what her life will always consist of, no matter where she runs up to.
###
First month in the new city, and the only thing that keeps her sane is the box filled with CD’s that she keeps inside her shelf, watching Mingyu’s face and smile whenever she needs to remind herself that there are good people in this world.
Sure, flowers don’t bloom in everyone, and what is shown on the recordings could be a bettered version of Mingyu. She knows what it is like to be portrayed as someone else in front of the cameras, after all. Yet, the rosiness of his tanned cheeks and the smile on his features speaks about something inexplicably thrilling. It makes her care about what happened after. Why would they leave all those CD’s behind, and had their marriage work?
Out of her thirteen neighbors, twelve don’t know a thing about him.
It’s a cycle, with the harsh sun confusing the endless wind falling on her back. One door opens, they welcome her into the neighborhood, ask her how she’s doing and they answer her questions.
Do you know who Kim Mingyu is? Yes, of course, he lived where you live right now.
Do you know what he does? No idea.
Do you know what happened to him, per chance? He left one day without saying a thing.
At this point, she may believe that Kim Mingyu was a ghost, and that was the reason why no one ever saw him leaving, or knew why he left. Confusion takes over her—for once, she doesn’t know why she is looking for the man that has brought her comfort for the past month, because nothing would come out of it. It’s not like she’s a fan of him, and will eventually end up meeting him and say: ‘Hey, watching your videos before your relationship fell apart made me feel better because you have such a welcoming, goofy personality’. Yet, there she is, standing in front of the final house of the block, ringing the doorbell on the pristine white walls.
A cat purrs once the doors open, escaping the confines of the home to twirl around her legs. The old woman in front of her, however, does not seem to mind her pet being so sweet, tugging at the edge of her long flowery dress, hunched over as she barely walks, a gray braid falling on her shoulder. A dulcet face, though much older than ninety, accompanies the lonesome woman who smiles at her presence.
“Oh, you’re the pretty girl that just moved in here, right?”
Well, that’s something new. She hasn’t heard much compliments ever since she got here—burn after hit, hit after burn, all coming from her endless hours of preparing for the first night of her musical, and the ones to come. “Depends on who you ask.” She jokes around, extending her hand to greet the woman in front of her. She outs her name into the comfortable atmosphere around them. “Yes, I’m the new neighbor. Nice to meet you…you have such a pretty home.”
“The smallest of the block, but the sturdiest.” The old woman gets out, able to capture anyone with her words. She leans her weight against the doorframe, a tired sigh leaving her lips. “Hye-Eun, that’s my name…and that’s my cat Rose.”
Kneeling down to scratch Rose right on her neck, she hums. “She’s so pretty.” The orange-furred cat seems to understand her, pressing her cheek against her knee before she looks away from her. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Hye-Eun, but I have some questions about the previous owners of my house that no one has been able to answer me—”
“You’re not interrupting a thing. I was just watching TV.” Hye-Eun admits.
“I’m glad.” It’s all she seems to be doing these days, too. Not going out. Definitely not spending her time inspecting the city. Instead, she’s either practicing or tiredly lounging around the house. “…Do you happen to know what happened to Kim Mingyu, the owner of the house?”
Hye-Eun stops for a moment, bringing her hands up her nose to rub at it before smiling. “He was a cute one, wasn’t he?”
Heat takes over her features, for she does not shy away from any man…but the stranger has something in him that puts her heart inside a carrousel and gives it a million twirls. “Indeed.”
“He left the day after his wedding. I’d say…about a year ago.” Hye-Eun, for seemingly being so old, captures the date well. One squint of her eye keeps her going, trying to recall the details. “He didn’t leave with Yoona, though. I remember because he brought me some food before he left. Such a caring boy…”
Her judgement may not be the slightest bit wrong about him. A smile appears on her features when she takes Rose in between her hands, looking at the cat’s face for a second before continuing to rub over her fur. Very calm for a cat, actually. “What was he like?”
“Enchanting, really. He used to greet everyone, play around with the kids when he could…he is a photographer, so he took lots of pictures in our neighborhood.” Mingyu sounds much like the man in the recordings so far. Had Yoona been the only one pretending, or was that just a little fight in their relationship? “A little bit dumb, but the sweetest of men are like that. Though, forgetful, too, he never came around after leaving.”
She doesn’t know him and yet, at times, when she doesn’t see his videos for days, she starts to miss his smile. People around the neighborhood, or the ones that truly intertwined with him, must long for his presence. “Seems like his wife was a lucky one.”
“She was.” Though, Hye-Eun says something else about the woman… “Pretty, but too controlling. Mingyu was just too stupid to notice.”
Those words have the smile on her face faltering. “…Really?”
The relationship that she had judged as normal on the first place, now seems to fall on the weight of Yoona’s wrongdoings. “Yes.” Hye-Eun finalizes, nodding her head before smacking her lips together. “But I know nothing else. Sorry, honey.”
“No worries, Mrs. Hye-Eun.” She finalizes, giving Rose back to her owner before resting her hands inside the pocket of her jeans. A photographer, brand-new feelings blossoming with his marriage, Mingyu sounds like one hell of a picturesque man. “Thank you for your help. I’ll get going now.” With a bow, she turns around, ready to take off to her house, when Hye-Eun speaks from her spot.
“He’s a pretty one, isn’t he?”
She stops on her tracks, looking over her shoulders. “Pardon me?”
Hye-Eun rests a kiss on top of Rose’s old cheeks before she chuckles. “A woman doesn’t go around asking about a man through a neighborhood just because.” Though, she has some reason there, if Mingyu is a married man, why should she care? “…Watch out for that heart, honey.”
“Oh no, Mrs. Hye-Eun, I’m afraid you have misunderstood—”
“I haven’t.” The sweet woman says, a smile appearing on her rounded features. “…Just, be careful, okay? Mingyu is the kind of man anyone easily falls for.”
Crossing her fingers across her heart, she replies: “I promise those are not my intentions, ma’am.”
With a chuckle, Hye-Eun takes a hold of her door, ready to close it when she finalizes this conversation. “It’s not what you intend to do, but what you’re actually doing.” The door closes, and she watches Hye-Eun retreat with her cat.
Why is she looking for Mingyu on the first place? Perhaps, a part of her wants to meet him—see that smile from up close and ask what happened to his relationship.
But that’s not her issue, not her position to be in, and that’s the reality of life.
###
“How many times do I have to tell you not to add new steps to the choreography?”
The baby wipe rubbing against her skin stops her motions along with her hand, looking at Kaleigh’s reflection on the mirror, right next to hers. The white lights cast down on the entirety of the face, one half sporting the bruises and dirt on her character’s face, the other completely void of makeup. Kaleigh, however, looks as put-together as always, moving her glasses, holding her script to her chest and pursing her reddened lips when she raises her eyebrows.
“I thought it’d look better, sorry.” Though, Jaehyo and Sue do it at times as well, choreographies and lines that they have worked on behind Kaleigh. They never get repercussions, aiming to be the very best brand of musical actors, but in her case…it’s always a bad move. With the passage of time, her confidence in her talents has deflated. “It won’t happen again.”
“You say that all the time.” Kaleigh answers, looking down at her script with a sigh before flicking a few pages. “And you, still, can’t go to the front. Hyun has worked on her dancing and her physique more than you have, so…stay back.” Though words hurt her more and more each time, digging against her heart like a sword twisting and twisting, opening the wound with more force than the last time. Yet, she only nods, knowing better than going back home and proving everyone right about the curse that follows her family.
“I will.”
“…I don’t want to tell you this, but another mistake, and I’ll kick you out.” Kaleigh, always strict, finalizes with those words, not knowing how to be softer. Little did she know that she left her figure skater with a broken foot at home, only pushed into the train because everyone insisted on her following her dream. Miyoung is much better now, but she can’t follow after her dream anymore. She keeps going, but at what cost? Showing the people that love her that, for once, she is not just some celebrity’s family member?
More often than not, she wants to package her bags and go back home. Wrap her arms around Miyoung and cry for both of their dreams. Buried deep, aching, bleeding. Instead, she watches Kaleigh retreat towards Hyun, sharing a smile with the woman and words of endless praise that should be for her.
Not to be misunderstood. Hyun is as talented as a person can get, but her outward hate towards her and the rivalry she started out of nowhere affects her. What was once admiration towards Hyun now translates into anger, pulsing envy that has her looking to the side as Hyun downs her fifth energy drink of the night. Her pupils dilate, eyelids blinking rapidly, chest heaving for a second as her fingers twirl one against the other. She stares at herself in the mirror, far away from taking off her makeup, before releasing her lines once again under her breath.
She’ll give Hyun that she’s a hard worker, but more than five energy drinks in just one afternoon practice?
The recital is getting closer, pamphlets thrown around, social media presence starting—and the interviews will inherently come soon. Yet, Hyun seems to be under a lot of pressure, the strain of one of the notes she whispers into the thin air coming from endless hours of rehearsing. Main lead but still very much human.
She shouldn’t give a shit. Hyun can start peeing orange like the color of the energy drinks she is having, and she shouldn’t mind, but what does she do instead when leaning against her seat and looking to Hyun’s lonesome speech?
“I don’t think you should be drinking that many energy drinks.”
Hyun looks different when she looks over to her. Her eyes seem to be unable to close, bottom lip stuck in between her teeth, dragged across the surface before tilting her head to the side. “How about your start minding your own business?”
She shrugs. This is a woman, after all, and they may be miles apart personality-wise, but she can’t bring herself to look at Hyun ruin his own health just to function a few more hours on stage. “Well, it’s minding my business. I don’t want to be the one to take you to the ER when one of your kidneys explodes.”
Hyun scoffs, moving her hair away from her face before looking back at her reflection in the mirror. “I’d rather die than share a car with you.”
Why does she even try with this one? It’s clear that she won’t ever let herself be pampered, even when she worries about her health. “You know what? Invite me when that happens. The happiest day of my life, for sure.” She replies, rubbing on her face harshly, not caring if she takes off the entirety of her makeup before tossing her bag over her shoulder and getting off the chair.
When she gets out of her second home, the city welcomes her. Bustling lights, passing cars, the speech that never stops…and yet, she can’t bring herself to like it. She’s one hair away from losing it all—the opportunity of being in this musical, that is, bringing her character to life, but if she doesn’t lose that…her pride as a person will be stepped on.
God, she really needs to stop caring about the musical for once. Her character is different from who she is, and too much practice is about to make her turn out crazy.
Her phone comes up to her ear as she starts walking to the subway, calling one of her friends that live in the same city as her, hoping for an answer when she says:
“Drinks tonight, babe?”
“For sure!”
###
For once, she feels like herself. Stepping out of a taxi, with the night biting at her naked legs, and fashion cladding most of her body. A tight red skirt rests under her bright pink coat, the low neckline of her white shirt showing a sensual side of her that only the cameras had seen, back when she went out partying in her hometown. Lowering her sunglasses from her head to her eyes, she takes a bite of the pizza in between her fingers when her friend closes the taxi’s door behind them.
“This is the best lounge in the entirety of the city, trust me.” Dasom’s pink hair swishes with the wind in inexplicable ways, but the smile on her mischievous features only highlights when she wraps her arm around hers. Dasom had been having dinner with her just a few minutes ago, over some bottles of beer, when she decided a lounge would be much better for them. Music. Dance. Perhaps some people to talk for the night. “Besides, there’s a lot of high-end people here.”
She met Dasom while in high school, where the woman peaked thanks to a viral video on the internet. To this day, she is remembered for it, but her fame hasn’t gone much further. Education aside, she seems to just enjoy the moment. “Wait, can’t I finish my pizza?”
Taking the slice of pizza from her hands, the cheese and sauce concoction ends up on the sidewalk, thrown there by Dasom. “Stop eating. We’re going to have fun and help you forget about your image for once.”
Upon entering the lounge, clouds of red and blue merge together, music boosting the bass through the walls, people cheering with their glasses up in the sky, bodies clinging to one another in a dance. Somehow, it feels like a party, and Dasom never misses one of those. This night doesn’t seem to be the exception, her heels clicking against the black flooring with white speckles as Dasom moves her through the masses of people.
“You didn’t tell me it was going to be a party.”
“Never trust a Gemini.” Dasom instructs about herself before smiling softly. “We’re going to be fine,” She instructs, wrapping one arm around her shoulder before extending her hands to one of the tables. “My friends are over there. We’re going to grab some drinks. And we’re going to have a good time, isn’t that right?”
“…Well, I guess.” Finally, the hazed nature of her happiness comes through, following after the steps of someone more knowledgeable about nights like this. She needs to let go, feel as though she doesn’t care for one night, and if a few shots and shared laughter aims to do that, so be it.
Motions blur one with the other, alcohol passing by her throat, numbing it with each taste. She winces most of the time, but the smile after the hiss is worth it. Pictures come from the night, though she doesn’t know who she is posing with, loving the pineapple in cocktails and the way her body swings as though the denim never restricted her legs. The night casts its light on her, the starring role of a movie that she doesn’t quite remember—but damn, it’s a good time. For once, she doesn’t have to think.
The bad thing about sudden, palpitating happiness is that it dissipates in the matter of seconds. Shots of alcohol are a distraction, not a source of dopamine.
“Dasom!” She shouts her friend’s name, stomach hunching as she steps away from the groups of people. There are a bunch of people with rosy hair in here, or maybe, she is too drunk to tell who her friend is. Her hands wrap around a handle, apologizing when coming in contact with the steady and strong body of the body guard before stepping on the sidewalk, hurling forward until she empties the contents of her stomach.
Yeah…alcohol is not her thing.
One of her earrings falls down, a wince following the action before she spits on the floor. She doesn’t feel any better, and she imagines she’s going to be here for another second. Her hands rest on her thighs, letting the world see her and the cars passing by on her worst of states. Worst of ideas, it was, but she can’t quite regret it when she’s beyond tipsy.
Someone rests their hand on the sleeve of her coat, pulling it up her shoulder before patting her back. Sobs rip from her mouth, lungs contracting and breaths suffocating with the sickness that revolves her stomach. A soft, yet somewhat confused, voice talks to her, rubbing circles on her back in the process.
“Hey, everything is going to be alright. Just breathe.”
Tears mix with her mascara, touching down to her worn-out lipstick as she breathes out: “I—I can’t…I feel so sick.”
This is a man that is talking to her, she can tell that much, but when he fixes her tangled hair from her earrings and continues to speak words of comfort to her, she can’t figure out anything else. A lisp is there, that’s all she can tell. “Oh no. You’ve drank too much.” Unsure of what to say or do, from her peripheral vision, she can see the man looking around the streets. Brown hair, glasses, and a black cardigan, but she doesn’t remember anything else. “I’m here with you. Calm down.”
Before she could say anything else, her stomach lifts its contents and she brings her weight forward once again.
From the faint distance, she can hear a small ‘ew’ from the man.
“Shit. Are any of your friends here?” With the smallest of nods, the man complies with another question. “W—What’s her name?”
“Kang Dasom.”
“Kang Dasom. Kang Dasom. Okay. Okay, I can do this.” More-so talking to himself, the man retreats from his spot beside her. Gone, like everyone, leaving the drunken, sobbing mess that is herself at this moment, it’s not a surprise that he left her to go find her friend. However, his actions say otherwise. “Hey, guard! Can you go look for Kang Dasom inside? I can’t leave her alone.”
Once again by her side, she wraps her fingers around his taut forearm, lifting her gaze for one second, but unable to make out a figure of his blurred features. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no. Don’t be.” The man in question instructs, slipping his backpack off one shoulder before taking out a bottle of water, flimsily giving it to her. “Take a few sips, please.”
She does as he says, letting the cold liquid go down her abused throat, the man’s warm fingertips rubbing the tears away from her cheeks before she sighs. “…Thank you. I must look so…wacky.”
At the adjective she uses, the stranger chuckles. “It’s a new fashion trend, don’t worry.”
Smiling lazily, she hears the sound of the door opening, her name breathed out by a worried tone. “Oh my God, sweetie! I couldn’t find you anywhere!”
Dasom’s arms wrap around her body, not caring that she is smelly, just vomited, and that she’s head over heels drunk. “It’s okay…” She breathes out, feeling her stomach calm down at the touch of the lulling water, but Dasom pulls away to look at her.
“It’s not okay! God, anything could’ve happened to you…”
The stranger speaks in a low tone, playing with whatever is hanging from his neck. A necklace? A camera? A bag? She can’t tell. “I have to go back to work. Is everything going to be alright?”
Dasom looks at the man for one fraction of a second before humming. “We’ll be fine, thank you.” Though, she doesn’t get enough time to say anything to the stranger with the familiar voice, instead sucking in a breath when Dasom takes her by the waist and drags her towards the edge of the sidewalk, eyes already trained on her phone. “I’m going to call our taxi. We need to take you back home.”
The night wasn’t so bad, at least, for she realized there are still good people in this world.
###
All her life she has lived in the backseat, now she realizes.
Shadows of mistakes, people in other cars able to see her, but with the motion, she never captured a glance of them. People judged her, but they never stopped to see the real image, the driver and where it was taking her, how the road was and how the breeze could change the trees, the weather, and the time when everything happened. It’s not what she signed up for, but it’s the only thing she has known.
She knew the media before she even knew what a friend was. Learned how to look at the camera even before she learned how to speak to someone while staring at them face-to-face. Her name was said by other people, strangers at that, before she even knew how to spell it or write it. It’s not what she desired, but she keeps going. Her hands extend to continue with her dance routine, stepping forward just for one second, knowing that this is the only moment to shine. One of the few moments she is not the little girl everyone expected the worst from.
Look at what you’ve become, she wants to tell herself. You’re halfway through being an artist.
One day until her first performance in front of the crowd, and she’s ready to take it like a champion. Good or bad reviews, whatever happens is the source of her hard work—rather, it’s outcome. Her sneakers dig into the stage. Her stage that she shares with amazing people, and if twenty seconds of singing is all she gets, it’s what she is going to hold onto.
Upon reaching her mark, she feels a log—a leaf in her road to autumn. Her body proceeds to fall upon losing her balance, knees digging into the wood, creating dents in the skin, burning at the touch when her hands expand to stand her weight. Her chin hits the floor, but the masked laughter that comes from the person by her side shows the culprit. Baby blue sneakers, toned legs, and that malice that conceptualizes.
Kaleigh stops the music, fixing her glasses before sighing deeply. “Are you trying to kiss the floor?”
She sits up at that moment, her fingers pointing at Hyun by her side. Supposed to be her companion in this scene and yet, destroying everything that drives her to her dreams. “Ask the one that jutted her leg forward so I could trip.”
“I didn’t do such thing.”
Kaleigh, as always, backs her up. “I didn’t see her putting her leg forward.” Before she could defend herself any further, let the fire of the stress burn through Kaleigh’s serious expression, the woman is already looking behind her, speaking to the dot of a man that she can’t perceive at the last row of the practice place. “Are the pictures coming out fine? I don’t want people to see our cast on the floor.”
The more she proceeds in life, the more she realizes she is the only one that can bring herself up, dust her knees before anyone could even put a finger over her. It’s better this way. The photographer gets away from the shadows, lowering the Canon from his face before nodding slowly. “I’m getting good shots. Thank you for worrying.”
That lisp. If she moved her head any faster, she would have gotten whiplash. Upon watching the man’s face, she feels as though the Earth swallows her whole. Rounded face, toned body, his ears hidden by his beanie, glasses propped on the bridge of his nose, thin lips and that melodious smile. A bit silly at times, but yet, so enchanting on him.
“Ah,” Mingyu gets closer to the stage, standing by the edge before extending his camera towards her. Yes. Her. Why in the hell can’t she move? Men shouldn’t have this kind of effect on her. Anyone, really. “I want you to check your pictures with me, just in case you don’t like…the way you look or something. The expressions! Yes, that’s what I’m trying to say.”
Good, because she almost thought for a moment that he was trying to say: ‘Hey, your pictures are looking ugly. Can you check and tell me if you’re alright with them?’.
Finally, she steps forward, her legs dangling when she rests her bottom on the stage. “Sure.” Mingyu stands by her side, looking at her profile for a second before returning his gaze to his thick Canon camera, flickering through the pictures he had taken. Bright, with good poses, the angles fitting for every subject of his camera. “I like them.”
“This is the one from when you fell,” Mingyu instructs, making a circle around Hyun’s stuck-out leg. “And she did stick her leg out.”
“Well, I’m not crazy.” She says, rolling her eyes in the process before linking her hands over her lap. Mingyu looks at her, and for some reason, she feels like she knows him. After all, she saw a portion of him not a lot of people got to see—more mature, he seems to be, void of a glistening band around his finger. Perhaps, he just doesn’t like rings at all.
Mingyu looks up and down her features, long eyelashes fluttering against the underside of his eyes before smiling briefly. “Not crazy, but very drunk at times.”
Huh?
Drunk?!
“Excuse me?” She asks, because there is no way in hell Mingyu has seen her or gotten to know her, much less be aware of her when drunken—
Mingyu leans his weight against the stage, elbows propped back as he talks to her. “You don’t remember me?”
From the CD’s? Yeah. From a drunk night? Hell no. “…What do you mean?” She won’t quite in fact confess that she does remember him.
Roses grow on his cheeks, shaking his head when looking down at his camera. “Well, we were at the Urban Lounge. I was taking pictures, and just as I was about to head inside once again with my new film, I saw someone throwing up in the sidewalk. Crying, too.” Oh no. Oh please, don’t let this be the truth— “I decided to help you find your friend Kang Dasom, and then, I returned to the party.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh, yes.”
What are the odds that the sweet man that had rubbed her back when vomiting, was also the same man that helped her with her anxiousness each day when getting home from practice? There can’t be that many good people in this world, but Mingyu couldn’t be two of the nice people she had gotten to know in this city.
Or, rather, he was.
“Nothing to be ashamed of. We have all been there.” Mingyu stops for a moment, pressing his lips together, rubbing them, before releasing his words. “Me more than others, but it’s nice to be the one helping for a change.”
More souls like his should exist in this world. “Ugh, I can’t believe you saw me like that.” She groans, lowering her head until her neck hangs it. Mingyu chuckles from his spot, only to build the tension inside of her. The man in the recordings had seen her like a whole mess, and found it funny at that. Wow. “…You know, not a lot of people can say that they have seen me like that.”
“Not a lot of people see someone throw up before they actually know their names, but alas, here we are.”
“What a way to make a lady feel better.”
Mingyu’s smile falters the slightest bit at that, extending his hand before saying. “Hello, I’m Mingyu, but in this occasion, you can call me a dumbass.”
Funny, he is, enough for a smile to rake over her features even when her elbows and knees hurt. She speaks her name out, letting his professional and soft fingers caress against her own in a shake. Long digits, perfect for photo-taking, but horrible to think about when she remembers he is possibly married.
“I was joking. Don’t worry about it.” Instead, she hears her name being called, Kaleigh with her hands on her hips, waiting for her to return to the stage. “…Uh, I kind of have to get back to work.”
Now, she realizes the thing that dangled from the man at the lounge’s neck was his camera, the strip giving him more leverage when he nods at her. “I do, too.”
“Nice to meet you, Mingyu.”
Nice to meet you, again, maybe.
“Likewise.”
Though, she feels someone stare behind her when she turns around and gets back on her spot, she tries not to think much of it. He may be trying to get a good picture of the one figure in the shadows that is her.
###
Fourteen hours for the first performance of When The Kids Go To Sleep.
Fourteen hours and in the solitude of that stage, with only one light on, everyone from the staff gone to their homes, she feels the most like a star. In this stage, right at this moment, it feels like a star will be born.
The lyrics to the final song repeat themselves from her lips. She knows them by heart, the reason as to why she moved here on the first place, and with her hands gathering all the emotions in the air only to press them to her chest, she feels like she is five percent more ready for the night after. Or, actually, tonight—midnight, it is, and she still hasn’t left the practice room.
Everyone is gone, what is the worse that could happen?
Just as she moves to another spot, keeping the tempo and the rhythm of her feet, a thud interrupts her. Loud, clear, as if someone had opened the door and jumped on the floor. She halters her step, watching the locked doors with a frown on her features. If that door wasn’t open, then how had the sound appeared on the first place?
Her vocal cords close, swallowing thickly as she looks around the stage. If this is a robber, she needs to find something to defend herself with. An umbrella rests at the edge of the stairs, the one she had brought with herself on the rainy morning, cladded in Winnie The Pooh logos on a baby blue background. One step down the stairs and she hears it again, that thud, followed by the incomprehensible set of words the robber says.
Fuck. Someone’s here.
Someone is here and she had not even noticed.
Precision in her walk, she goes over to the hallway to the left of the entrance door, where the noises get louder as she gets closer to the storage rooms and bathrooms. One step forward, followed by her next leg, keeps moving her towards the culprit of the noise, both hands grabbing onto the body of the umbrella with a plan inside her head. She’ll knock this motherfucker down for scaring her that way.
The robber has some sense of humor, however. When she stands in front of one of the storage rooms, the door half-opened, the sound of one Eminem song escaping his lips becomes the main source of speech in this room. Who the hell sings an Eminem song when stealing?
The world is made out of colors and opinions. Maybe, this robber found it fitting.
She opens the door with one swing, lifting her umbrella well up in the air before knocking it against the robber’s head, the smack welcomed by a groan and a whine from the stealer.
“I’m going to call the police—” The robber turns around, both hands cladding his head, his brown hair sticking out at certain spots, a confused glance in his eyes. Well, so that is why the robber was singing Eminem…because it wasn’t a robber at all. “Mingyu?”
Blame it on her sleep deprivation. Yes. That’s it.
“Ouch?” Mingyu utters out, separating the word in syllables just as she reaches forward, rubbing the portion of his head that she just hit.
“I’m sorry. I thought it was someone trying to steal from me and kill me—”
“Who sings while stealing?” Mingyu questions, finally lifting his gaze and straightening his body. His eyes connect to hers, and she finally realizes just how much of a bitch paranoia is.
“I don’t know. I’m sure they enjoy music, as well.”
Mingyu looks at her for a second, blinking, silenced, until laughter escapes his lips. Shortened, at that. “You should consider changing your career path. That arm?” The man flings his arm back and forth, as if pretending to receive the ball from a pitcher in a baseball game. “Perfect for a baseball player.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she grins. “What were you even doing here, oh-so-funny-man?”
The man in question waves his camera in the air, clearing his throat soon after. “Checking the pictures and the videos to see which ones I should take tomorrow.” Right, he probably was preparing for the big night as well. “You’re doing great, by the way. I could hear you from here.”
It’s been a while since she has believed she has done great. Her umbrella becomes her axis, resting it on the floor as she leans on it, a sigh leaving her lips. “I still have a long way before I get to Hyun’s level.”
A bright star under a roof, that’s how Hyun was going to be perceived, while she was going to be one twinkling firelight passing by. Mingyu bites the inside of his cheek, moving towards her with careful steps. “Hey, it’s not a competition…” He tries to make her feel better, as per usual with Kim Mingyu for what she has realized from his videos, but she shakes her head, chuckling in the process.
“God, I’m making it too serious.” She rolls her eyes. After all, Mingyu is a complete stranger. It’s not like he knows that she has seen one of the most private portions of his life in video. “But yes, you’re right. It isn’t supposed to be a competition, but it’s what Hyun has made it so…”
“Then, win.” Mingyu concludes, his lips lifting to the left in a smirk.
She quirks one eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. “Easier said than done.”
“Like everything, but just wait, people will see the same thing I did today.” His eyes trail down her features, chuckling a bit to himself out of awkwardness before clearing his throat. One step back, and the electricity is cut short. “Your pictures came out fine, too. I’ll make sure to do a great job tomorrow.”
“You’re going to be the photographer for the rest of the play?”
“From time to time. As long as I’m not gigged, I’ll be here.” Mingyu replies, placing the strap of his camera’s bag on his shoulder before sighing. “I’ll go catch up on some sleep now. You’re staying here until the morning or do you want me to call you a taxi?”
Tiredness lingers on her body, but she can’t bring herself to sleep. Not when she is one step closer to either fulfilling or destroying her dream. Opening the door for him, she shakes her head. “I’ll stay here until the morning.”
“You sure?”
“I have to practice.”
“If you say so…” He trails, stepping out of the door and walking alongside her before speaking up again. “You know everything is going to be fine, right?”
One look at his profile and suddenly, the warmth that makes place inside her body lets her feel so. Being alright is something she hasn’t considered in the past month of pushing herself to utter perfection, but maybe, it isn’t so far away.
“I think so, too.”
Sprinkles of rain patter against the sidewalk when Mingyu opens the entrance door, swirls of air moving his hair before he places his beanie on top of it once again. Before he could step outside, his hand grabs the handle of the door, sharing a glance with her when saying:
“I hope to see you again.”
With that, just like a leaf through the wind, he flies away.
###
Success tastes like honey.
The magic of being on stage in a musical is that she doesn’t see anybody, but she feels them. The silence that merges into cheers, the faint gasp from someone on row three, or the flash of a camera from someone who wants to capture this moment for when they feel like going back down the stage of nostalgia. Critics scatter around the place, but she can’t vision them, maybe for the better. With shred clothing, bruises and tiredness painted on her skin, she is her character, and whatever her past said about her no longer exists here.
The only thing that lacks are her loved ones, somewhere else in the country, living their lives while she constructs her own. Jaehyo does an imminent job in catching people’s attention with his dance, though not in the center, and Sue does not fall behind with her immaculate acting skills. Hyun, the star of the night, receives attention as deserved. Sure, she is not the most beautiful of people on the inside, but her talent is outraging.
When her bare feet come in contact with the center of the stage, sharing it with Hyun, she spares one look towards the groups of people. First row, with his dark hair absentmindedly pushed away from his face, a black, oversized t-shirt cladding his body and matching his ripped jeans, Mingyu is squatting down to get the perfect shot. The dimmed lights do not let her see the beauty of him, but the camera is pointing towards her, and she relishes on it.
Mingyu’s camera does her justice, after all.
By the time the musical is over, a smile takes over her features, backstage and hearing the standing ovation, blood pumping, hands jittery, and heart on her sleeve when she goes over to Jaehyo and wraps her arms around him with emotions bubbling up on her bloodshot eyes. She really needs to sleep.
The older man’s arms end around her waist. “We did it, Jaehyo! It was a success!” Jumping up and down on his hold, Jaehyo chuckles at her antics.
“Calm down, calm down, it’s only the first night.” Jaehyo whispers, pulling away with a lazy smile on his face. “…But it was one hell of a good first night. Pizza for celebration?”
“You know it!”
The next fifteen minutes consist of taking pictures, trying her best not to concentrate on the photographer or on the hunger that creeps up her body, unable to smile as brightly if it wasn’t for Mingyu. Lacking sleep, needing a nice, fulfilling meal, it’s no wonder that she had not slept a single minute in the past forty-eight hours. Maybe, that’s why she is a bit bummed when Mingyu doesn’t say a thing to her, continuing with his job with utmost professionalism.
Some children gather to take pictures with the cast, unknowingly filling her heart with pride. In one point of her life, she was like them, eager and excited to get the attention of her favorite characters. The magic of theater is that characters, and actors alike, are not unreachable to the watcher. It’s a live source of magic.
Jaehyo is off to greet the deliveryman outside by the time thirty minutes have passed. Her makeup wipes run across her skin, ready to take off the excessive amount of makeup on her skin and exchange it for breathing pores and comfort. She stops looking at her reflection to hunt for someone with the mirror, scanning the room unbeknownst to the rest of the people there. Mingyu’s thighs extend when seated at the edge of one of the vanities backstage, clicking through the pictures as one of the children talks to him. Mingyu seems to be intently listening to the child, but when he looks for something from the corner of his eyes, she feels his gaze on hers.
Her eyes trail down his toned arms, the expansion of his thighs, seeking for the art in him as if she is DaVinci and he is the Mona Lisa. A smile appears on her features, straightening her back and leaning her weight forward to continue to rub her makeup off, not forgetting to make herself look the best as possible. At least, he’s looking.
Yet, she shakes that thought away—he shouldn’t be looking. As far as she knows, he could still be with Yoona.
A hand extends on top of her shoulder seconds after, rubbing at the skin softly, as if giving her a massage, before breathing out her name in that somewhat deep, harmonious tone of his. “…Wasn’t so difficult to steal the show, wasn’t it?”
For someone who is not a good talker in most occasions, the line has her beam widening. “You’re joking.”
“No,” Mingyu says, dragging one seat to her side, the plastic chair making him look smaller next to her, for her artist’s chair is much taller. His legs expand, interlocked hands settled in between his thighs, and she really should stop looking at those—
Her eyes go up.
“Want to look at your pictures?”
She puts the makeup wipe down, running her fingertips on top of her eyelashes to check if there is any leftover mascara there. Clean. All the makeup is off. “Is that the only conversation we are ever going to have? My pictures?”
“We should.” Mingyu mumbles out, frowning his features in confusion before his eyebrows shoot up, realization falling upon him. “Not that I don’t want to talk to you about anything else! Shit, that sounded like such—. Yes, we can talk about something else.”
The smell of thick sauce, melted cheese and corn has her turning towards the red curtains, watching Jaehyo slip inside before giving her the box of pizza that belongs to her. Thanking him softly, she opens it on top of the vanity, pointing at it as she talks to Mingyu. “Help yourself. I haven’t had one of these since the night at the bar.”
Mingyu stands up, hovering over her to be able to get a piece, and she tries her hardest not to bite her lip at the vision of his profile. Definitely crafted by an artist, he is a sculpture made person. “And yet, here you are, eating it again.”
“It may be our thing now.” She replies, leaning back on her seat to watch Hyun downing yet another energy drink, hands contracting against each other, her expression turned somber. “Hey, Hyun!” She calls out, only to have the woman frowning at the sound of her voice and turning her head to the side.
“What do you want?”
“I asked Jaehyo to bring you some pizza. Tell him to—”
“I won’t have it.” Hyun finishes, picking up her purse and throwing it over her shoulder. “…Thank you.” She utters, though she doesn’t stay for long, opening the red curtains and getting away from the actors’ spot.
She doesn’t know why she tries. Maybe, because she thinks the tension between Hyun and herself could be the downfall of the musical, but Hyun is just too thick mentally. “How did this whole rivalry start?” Mingyu says, taking the first bite of his slice before he huffs slightly, trying to cool down the piece that is inside his mouth. Even with his lips half-parted, eyes widened, there is some cuteness to him.
Pressing the pizza up to her lips and biting on it, she shakes her head. “I have no idea.” She replies. “…Are we playing questions now?”
Mingyu shrugs. “Only if you have some.”
“About you? Endless.” She says, leaning forward until she is face to face with Mingyu, taking all in her not to look down at his lips. “When did you start taking pictures?”
“When I was seventeen,” Mingyu says, not backing down the slightest, yet chewing on his meal with expertise. He must have been hungry, as well. “One of my best friends needed some money, so he was trying for modelling gigs. Needed a portfolio and all…so I took pictures of him.”
“Did modelling work for him?”
“Almost.” Mingyu says, finalizing his pizza with one big bite, taking a napkin and pressing it to his lips before continuing after swallowing his food. “Soonyoung is good, my friend. Just…he’s shy, I guess? He didn’t see his potential then, doesn’t do it now. That’s just what happened.”
“Something good came out of it, though. You’re a great photographer.”
“Thank you.” With heated cheeks, he answers. “What about music for you? Or acting…or dancing? Like, musical stuff is just too much. I don’t know how you do it. I can barely walk and talk at the same time.”
Chuckling, she sighs, taking another slice of pizza. A string of cheese follows her first bite. “Uh,” She starts, pondering on exactly what to say. “My family has always been…well, famous. For the longest while, I thought I was going to be anything but famous, like…I don’t know, a teacher or something.” She may like children, but patience is not her biggest of virtues. “But I had no option than to be in the spotlight. Got my first acting gig in a doctor’s show, and I started to like it since then.”
“You were in TV?”
“I was patient number three. That was my character.”
Mingyu laughs joyfully, like he doesn’t care the slightest bit about what the world thinks of him—every particle of this world belongs to him and gives their attention to the beauty of his existence. “Oh, look at that, that’s my favorite character of all time.”
“Want me to give you an autograph?”
Pretending to take off his shirt, Mingyu replies: “On my boobies, please.”
“You did not.” She counterparts, doubling over in laughter at his behavior. “You better have a good set.”
“A good set of what?”
Curling her fingers in the air, she replies: “Boobies, as you called them. I call them titties.”
“Look at me ruining my own joke.”
“Lost the comedic timing, but don’t worry, that happens.” For one second, she inspects the glisten of the cheese on top of pizza, licking her lips with curiousness guiding her actions. “…Your girlfriend must like your jokes, Mingyu.”
Now, let’s see exactly what happened with Yoona. Or Kim Yoona. They should be married at this point. Mingyu runs his free hand through his hair, leaning back on his seat and crossing one leg over the other. “My friends do, but I don’t have a girlfriend to tell my jokes to.”
“…Huh?”
“Surprising?” Mingyu questions, though there is not an ounce of cockiness in his words.
“Very.”
“Why’s that?”
Pointing at the mirror, she says: “Take a look there and then, you’ll know why I wonder you don’t have someone with you.” Also, because he was one day from getting married in the last recording of the box. What had happened? Perhaps, he had been stood up, or they cut the wedding short. Or, even worse, Yoona had been the one left at the altar—
Mingyu chuckles at that moment, grease glistening on his lips, licking them to press them together. “Thank you.”
Sue comes around at that moment, sporting much more simplistic clothes and holding her box of pizza in between her hands. “We’re going to grab dessert and drinks, want to join us?” Jaehyo stands by her side, munching on his meal, and they are two angels at that moment. Kim Mingyu is single, wanting to get to know her, and maybe, hiding the fact that she knew about his relationship a little bit longer won’t do her any wrong.
She looks over at him, shrugging. “I wouldn’t mind. Want to come with us?”
“I have to take care of you if you drink, don’t I?”
“Oh, don’t be too confident.” She says, standing up and picking up her coat, closing the box of pizza in the process. “I may be the one taking care of you.”
Imitating her tone of voice, Mingyu says: “I wouldn’t mind.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” Mingyu repeats, looking down at her lips before returning his gaze towards Jaehyo and Sue. “Let me grab my camera.”
###
Exquisiteness is divine. Pearls in the bracelets around her wrists, a nice dress cladding her body, and the taste of the most delicious of meals, washed away by the concoctions of a chef. The summer nights passed long ago, but the newest era of success has come to her now. Third night, not in a row, of her introduction to the musical world, and each time she sees Mingyu, they end up hanging out after. At first, it was with Jaehyo and Sue, then, it was backstage…and now, she has brought him to a four-star-restaurant, one of the most expensive in the city.
The white ceramic of the plate she is eating from leaves imprints of Ratatouille on its wake, interrupting her speech about one of her childhood memories in order to catch a glimpse of the source of the flash hitting her face. This is familiar—whenever she held hands with one of her family members as a child, someone would take the opportunity to bring a camera up her face, judge her for how she was going to turn out to be without really knowing her. Basking in money, she thought she’d never care—but she did. Having people comment on her from the moment she was born played with her mind far more than she comments.
Beauty of the soul is never enough for them. In a world like this, people can’t be pure.
But with Mingyu, she feels the purest. His eye squints as he takes a picture of her, barely touching his food, as he’d say…embarrassed that she is paying for such an expensive meal. Yet, he deserves it. Sent from heaven, bathed in the golden speckles of destiny, bringing light to the most mundane of activities. He petrifies memories, and what an irony it is, that what she ran away from the most as she was growing up is his biggest passion.
She licks her lips, half-laughing at his antics. “Did you just take a picture of me?”
“You get a very pensive look on your face when you think about the past.” Perhaps, because it hurts her. Racing cars, lovers that didn’t last more than a week, memories of self-love that plaster on what other people thought of her. Young, rich and pretty doesn’t cut it in this world. “S—Sorry, I interrupted you, didn’t I? You were talking about the last time you went to Los Angeles—”
“It doesn’t matter.” She whispers, rubbing her fingers together to take the perspiration away from her skin. “Life is monotone when you’re somewhat famous. You do the same thing over and over again, pretending like it makes you happy.”
“Is that why you moved here?”
In reality, it was the addition of a few things. Her break-up. Her dream. Her opportunity. And running away. “What’s funny is that I didn’t even know what I would do once I moved here,” She replies, shrugging her shoulders after. “My best friend, Miyoung, I talked about her with you…she’s a figure skater, and she was supposed to attend the Olympics this year, but she broke her foot two days before I left. I thought that was the big sign for me not leaving.” Thoughtfully, she thinks back to the phone call she received in the middle of the night above a month ago. Miyoung had not rested the slightest, leading to an injury and sooner than later, a broken foot. Turns out that she would not be able to perform the same way she did before. “…But Miyoung told me it was quite the contrary, that it worked as a push-over for me to get here. According to her, it was my only chance to get a name for myself.”
“You’re on your way there.” Mingyu says, though her rests his camera on his lap, tasting the meal in front of him. “…I didn’t know about your family history or about you before, but I think people will start to recognize you as your own person soon.”
Hopefully, she can only think. “You know what?” She questions. Throughout the entirety of her time there, through the videos she had seen with Mingyu starring in them, an idea had crossed her head— “I think I’d be my happiest if I was just another person into this world. Like you.”
Mingyu shakes his head. “You’re crazy.” He tells her. “Exchanging money, power and success for…being like me?”
“I happen to think you’re a very good person.”
“Kind of.” Mingyu confesses, covering his mouth when he laughs: “But the day I’m gone from this world, no one will remember me. You can leave a mark on people’s lives.”
“So can you!”
“Probably to my children in the future, but not—”
“Listen, Mingyu—” Her words cut short then. How can she say this without outing what will inherently make him mad? “You’ve left your mark on people, I am sure.”
“It’s not the same.” His eyes shine under the golden chandeliers. Young ambition takes over him. “You’ll be legendary. I’ll be remembered by my neighborhood.”
“Maybe, we could exchange.”
“Or we could meet in the middle.” Mingyu conquers, and she likes that even more. Two souls that are clearly different but dance in the middle. Her leg extends forward, brushing against his skin, because she has seen this scene a few times in her life—romance in the form of getting to know each other, but for now, she doesn’t want to care about the outcome. Fuck the introduction or the conclusion, the development is always the best part.
“You know what I want to do?” She asks, the music in the background changing into some typical jazz tune, just as she hovers over the table, face to face with him.
You, she wants to tell him, instead, she looks into his eyes, Mingyu’s expression turning serious, cutting the tension with one of his smiles. “I don’t read minds.” He says. “Tell me?”
“I want to take pictures of you.” She replies, hang reaching for the camera on his lap, trying to understand the garment when she goes back to her seat. Pulling it up to her face, she squints one eye just like he does. She only needs to focus on him, right? “And keep them.”
“Why?” Mingyu asks, though, she can see him softly changing his pose, as to look more relaxed and camera-ready. Well, he does like a bit of attention.
“I want to remember the person that makes me believe there are still good people in this world.” The camera flashes when she takes a first picture, leaning back on her seat to capture more of his body in that black turtleneck and the necklace that wraps around his body. Tanned skin, brown hair, and a beautiful smile when she says those words.
“You haven’t known me for long enough to judge that, you know?”
“Then, give me the benefit of getting to know you more.”
A glimpse of his eyes connecting with hers on the camera has her smiling. “I’ll gladly give it to you.”
At the mention of those words, she lifts her eyebrows, another picture and her mind wander towards to possibilities. “What will you give me? The benefit of getting to know you? Just that?”
“You want more?”
“…It’s enough.”
Mingyu leans forward, his face coming in full view in the camera when he snatches it away from her hold, before whispering. “I was going to say I could give you everything you want, but seeing that just knowing me it’s enough…I’ll accept it.”
God. This man will be the death of her.
###
Two weeks in and not seeing Mingyu feels like it’s almost impossible. They gravitate towards each other—polar opposites that meet in the middle. His steps are heard as she keeps her hand to his, dragging him along over the lineal rug of the hotel they visited—for the pool, which Dasom said was the best—, baby blue doors compared to white walls, the faint swish of the pool nearby making music for the two of them to hear.
“Mingyu, hurry up!”
The fabric of her yellow dress caresses her legs, needing nothing more than to feel like she is living in summer, while the wind clashes with its coldness. Hopefully, the pool warms her body. Mingyu pulls her backwards by the white cardigan draped over her body, connecting his chest to her back. With each breath he takes, her own lungs shake, his voice lowering to speak against her ear.
“What’s the rush?” He asks, the few buttons opened of his floral shirt meeting her contracted muscles. “If I really went as fast as I can go, you wouldn’t be able to keep up.”
That’s the thing with Mingyu—he says the worst of things, in the situations that have her skin heating up, her mind going to places it shouldn’t. Not when he makes her feel like nobody else has done, as if scalding her fingertips to touch him would be worth it. Just before he could apologize, like he always does, because Mingyu just can’t say one thing without fucking up, she looks at him from over her shoulder. “Try me.”
A huff escapes his lips, wrapping both arms around her waist when picking her up and starting to rush through the hallway to get to the swimming pool.
“Mingyu—” Cackles leave her lips, legs flaring because he is just not looking forward. At least, not properly. “We could fall!”
“I’ll catch you if that happens—”
“You don’t know that!”
Floating in the clouds, somewhere beyond the universe, she lets her laughter speak for her. Never would she trust someone with this, but this is Mingyu she is talking about. The man that opens his heart without much thinking. “I promise I won’t let you fall. Just tell me when the swimming pool is close.”
Patting his arm, the toned skin coming in contact with her hand, she says: “Now, now! We’re close—”
Mingyu lets go of her after releasing her on the floor with a thud, turning around to watch the smile on his face when he puffs out his chest and adds: “See? I would never let you fall.”
“Not scientifically proven, so I’m not sure if I can believe you.”
“…You’re so annoying.” Laughing, she places her hands on each side of Mingyu’s body. She needs to get back to him, steal chuckles from his lips, so with one step back, she prepares for the biggest surprise of all. “Do you want me to turn around so you can take off your dress or—?”
Another step back and they are both falling inside the pool, dragged by her own weight.
Warm water bubbles around her, unable to open her eyes until her lungs receive air when getting to the surface. There, the droplets of water cling to her eyelashes, watching Mingyu merging up about at the same time that she did. His shirt clings to his body, thankfully wearing his bathing suit, strands of brown hair pressed to his gorgeous skin when he splashes water her way, though she’s already laughing.
“Don’t do that!”
“Sorry, sorry!” Yet, Mingyu keeps splashing water at her, getting closer and closer until he is just mere centimeters away.
“You think it’s funny, don’t you?”
“I’m a musical actress, not a comedian. Sorry.” Taking the damp cardigan in between her hands, she tosses it to the side, landing at the edge of the pool with a clanking noise from its buttons before jutting her chin forwards towards him. “I’m sorry about your shirt.”
“You just wanted me to take it off.”
“You would’ve even if I hadn’t thrown you into the pool.”
“So, you brought me to this pool for that on the first place.” Mingyu says, brown irises darkening when her fingers reach for the edge of her dress, pulling it up until she is left in a one-piece. That’s the magic of him—making her feel like there is not a competition, as if she’s the most gorgeous woman he has seen in a while. Her assumptions about herself are not seen by him.
“So,” She says, letting the dress fall to the side and trying not to cling to her own body, shrinking in order to hide away from him. Mingyu���s fingers hook around every button of his shirt, taking it off little by little to showcase his slim, yet toned body. “Swimming competition and whoever gets to end of the pool buys dinner?”
“I’ll buy dinner either way, but sure—” She needs to look away. The least she needs is that lingering voice inside her head that tells her that she’d do absolutely anything to get a taste of Kim Mingyu. It feels wrong, how he doesn’t know where she lives, what she found out when being there, how the lines of their stories always seemed to connect…but maybe, he’d feel taken off guard if only he knew the truth. That, in retrospect, she had seen the beauty of him before he even knew about her.
Her phone rings from the bag that she had left at the edge of the pool when Mingyu dropped her on the flooring. Incessantly. Even when she starts swimming with him, laughing along and splashing him on the face at the same time he does, it continues ringing.
Mingyu spares one look at her, pointing at her phone when saying: “Want me to get it for you?”
“No,” Worry rises up inside of her, swimming quickly until she got to the edge of the pool, the third call appearing on her screen once again. Mingyu’s presence is felt right behind her, but she can’t concentrate on him when she reads the contact.
Miyoung.
Something happened to Miyoung.
“Hello?” Fear clings to her chest. Miyoung, her best friend, the apple to her eye, could not have her life any worse than what it is right now. She doesn’t deserve it and as her best friend, she won’t let it happen. “Miyoung, are you okay?”
“Of course, babe. I’m fine.” Miyoung speaks in her typical purred out tone. A breath trapped inside her lungs lets go at that moment, leaning her weight forward just when Mingyu presses his hand to her back, rubbing those soothing circles that she knows so much.
“How is your foot?”
“Healed, thankfully. You already know that.”
“Goddamn it, Miyoung, I thought something had happened to you—”
“Haven’t you checked YouTube? I’m not the one you should be worrying about. Worry about yourself.”
YouTube? One or two videos about her musical had appeared, but she hasn’t been in the headlines for a bad reason. “Why should I worry? What are you talking about?”
Mingyu moves over to her side, and she can feel his eyes penetrating into her side profile when Miyoung utters out: “Haseul released his newest comedy special, and the motherfucker mentioned you. People are going crazy with the memes, you need to check it out.”
“What?” Her ex-boyfriend hadn’t crossed her head in a while. After all, remembering what hurt her the most—the obsession of always being right, the lies, the friends that he said he had nothing to do with and the way he passed her every opinion over his ass as if it didn’t matter…is not what she plans on doing. Not when she’s moving on. Yet, it seems like he doesn’t want her to do just that.
“Check it out. I’m—I’m talking to my PR team man to make a statement. I’m tired of his bullshit.”
“Don’t, don’t!” She says quickly. Miyoung’s career has already fallen down, she doesn’t need unnecessary drama. “I’ll fix it. I—I just need to look at it, okay?”
“Babe, promise me you’re not going to feel bad.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Horrible.”
“Then, I can’t promise anything.” With a sigh, she looks down. “I’ll call you later, okay? Let me see what all of this is about.”
When putting her phone down, it takes less than a second for Mingyu to speak, worry dripping from his every tone. “Wh—What happened?”
Well, time for a fraction of the truth. “Before I came here…I was dating some guy. Well, we had been dating for three months at a maximum. Cheated on me. Went out partying. The typical stuff someone of power does in most occasions.” Turning to her side, she takes the phone in between her hands, looking up the comedian’s name. “He’s a comedian. Eo Haseul. I don’t know if you know him but—”
“Yeah, I know about his comedy.” Mingyu’s frown deepens, extending one hand when leaning on the edge of the pool. “Isn’t he the guy who can only make sex jokes?”
“The one and only.” There it is, the video that Miyoung had been talking about, with over six hundred thousand views in four hours. Well, there goes her reputation. The title of his comedy set is shown there, but nothing else is added. “…We broke up before I left. He broke up with me, basically. Miyoung just called me to tell me he made a comedy set about me.”
“No way.” Mingyu whispers, leaning over her shoulder to be able to look at the loading screen.
“I mean, it shouldn’t be that bad, let’s see what he says.”
It was even worse than she had imagined.
Haseul, in what she had once thought was perfection, stares at the laughing crowd as his lips rest against the mic. His hair is sleeked back, thick eyebrows pursed together when he says: “And yeah, man, I learned last summer that you shouldn’t date a famous bitch. Or a semi-famous one. Normal, average women are fine but give someone some money and they think they can do whatever the fuck they please.” A few sets of laughter follow his statement, and he scoffs a bit for dramatics, trying to make himself sound more interesting. “I’m sure you guys know who I’m talking about, but…now that I’m out of that relationship, I can say that she was crazy. Eyes rolled to the back of her head, greedy as all shit, type of crazy.” He says, as if she is not human—as if she had not done everything in her power to make that toxic relationship work. “I would show you all the videos we had of each other fucking, but man, it’s just too crazy. I’d have to be filling all holes, even the bellybutton. When women are given power? They don’t get pleased by anything. I’d have to contort my body and shit, just to be able to make her moan for one second.”
Tears well up in her vision. The intimacy they had, exaggerated and highlighted for the world to see, torn to shreds because she is a woman with apparent power. Why is it that she can never have some source of happiness before it gets taken away from her?
“And the issues, man. God, I would have to hear her sigh on and on about her issues after sex. Just had my dick and she still had the time to think about how her rich, immaculate life was just not enough for her. See what I mean?”
Laughter, even though it’s not funny, people seem to enjoy it. Trying to turn the tables around, Haseul shrugs.
“I can’t even show you the videos because…I have to be honest, I’m not the biggest of men when it comes to that but—” For once, he targets himself, but the smirk on his face says he is not over with it. “It doesn’t matter. I have to cover my back. The bitch blocked me with the same hand she used to jerk me with.”
The subject changes, but her ears are ringing. Burning anger, impotence, and the tears that escape her eyes as she puts her phone down and rests her forehead against the tiles of the pool.
What was she thinking when she got with him?
“None of those things are true…” She whispers, covering her mouth as if to stop herself from talking. Mingyu, however, maneuvers his body to be able to wrap his arms around her. Her face rests against his chest, the cold skin touching hers, too afraid to look him in the eye. What will he think of her after watching that—?
“I know it’s not true.” Mingyu’s voice has turned serious, pulling away only to have her further pushing her face to his chest. “Do you have his number?”
Mind whirling, overheated, she hums. “I do, but I have it blocked.”
“Give it to me.”
“Mingyu—” Finally, she pulls away, bloodshot eyes staring up at him. “I’m tired of the problems around me. I’m absolutely done with people caring about my whereabouts and what I do. I don’t want more drama—”
“I just want to put him in his place.” Mingyu whispers, pushing her wet hair away from her face before breathing out a small: “Please?”
In the light of the pain caused, her lips are paralyzed, unable to connect her tongue to her mind in order to let some words out. Instead, she reaches for her phone, going through the contact list before seeing it:
Eo Hanseul (Do Not Respond).
Mingyu takes his own phone from her purse—he asked to have it there—, jotting down the numbers before bringing the device up to his ear. He gets out of the water, droplets following after his steps to be able to talk in private. Standing by the clear doors of the hallway, Hanseul seems to pick up his call, because his eyebrows furrow and he opens his mouth to speak.
Kim Mingyu doesn’t seem like the type of man to get angry, but he does that night.
Much of what he says is not understood, unable to disconnect her eyes from mixing the water of the pool with the waterfalls of her feelings, but Mingyu’s voice raises, speaks into the void when he says: “…I don’t care, man, you either grow some balls and start respecting her or you’ll have to have a talk with me.” Now, he seems much taller, buffer, as if his words may be able to deflate the softness of him. Rolling his tongue through his teeth, he hears to what the other man has to say, just as she’s getting out of the pool, only her calves pushed inside. “You think I’m some fool you can play with?”
Well, in comparison, Mingyu is much better than Hanseul. Less of a fighter, more of an empath. However, his Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows, a frown taking over his features.
“You either take all the bullshit you’ve said back or I’ll make sure you pay for it, okay?!” Before Hanseul could retort, the man shakes his head. “I don’t know, release some statement, get your tongue up your ass, but you’ll never talk to her or about her ever again, understood?”
Then, the call comes to an end. Radio silence.
Mingyu puts his phone down, extending his arms just to say: “Come here.”
And she does cling to him, feeling his heartbeat against her eardrums as she cries someone else’s ignorance away.
Though, for Mingyu, the picture is different. “You’re more than whatever people judge you for. Don’t forget that.”
###
Act twenty-four. Twenty-fourth time performing the same character. The critics are getting worse.
Perhaps, it’s her fault. Seated on the wooden floor backstage, while wrapping her legs in bandages to be able to stand the aches, ignore the blossoming memories of the falls she has done while practicing, she sees the most destroyed person in the room staring at herself back in the mirror. Hyun looks way more tired than she did when they were practicing, curling her hand against her stomach—perhaps, suffering by the number of products she puts in her body to be able to keep herself energized—, eyes void of the glint of pertinence that had once coated them, bathed in shadows.
Once again, she takes another energy drink, and it’s about this time that she speaks out the certainty in the room. The one spoken secret that she whispers to herself at night. “I’m worried about you.”
Hyun stops at that moment, not even sparing her a glance, and the shutter of Mingyu’s camera comes to a halt when she finally outs the obvious. Hyun may not like her, but she was a fan of her before she even got here. Talented, she is, and her stomach must not be doing good by the number of energy drinks, caffeine and whatever else she has. Her stress is getting to her, cohabiting inside of her body.
The woman lifts her eyebrows, sucking her cheeks in when she says: “You don’t have to. I’ll be fine.”
“Even I’m not fine.” She confesses, standing up from the floor with wobbling legs. Too overworked. “Hyun, stop drinking this. If you aren’t sleeping or you can’t keep up, it’s okay. We’re here to help each other—”
When her hand comes forward to take the energy drink from her, Hyun pushes her body backwards, the anger in her features dissipating. “You don’t get it.”
“Of course, I do.” She says, only to have Hyun bitterly scoffing.
“Yeah, right.” She concludes, putting the can down before resting her slim hands on her hips. “If this musical keep going like it is, on its downfall, I won’t get any other chance to shine. I won’t get a starring role, and I will definitely see my dream die. You don’t go through that. You have a home to go to, and money to spend—”
An inexplicable feeling embargoes her. While Hyun had gained this position with hard work, a part of her existence there was just for publicity—and her mere presence is what is bringing the musical to its conclusion. “Hyun, I promise…you’re too talented to ever do shit wrong. You’ll get a chance when needed.”
“You don’t know that!” Hyun shouts, running her fingers through her hair before sighing. “Mind your business, okay? Stay out of my way, and stop playing the victim here. I’m fine. I just need to practice more.”
“Go home, Hyun.” She tries to reason, taking the woman by the forearms. “I know you hate my guts, and I would, too, if I were you…but please, just…rest for tonight. The show’s over. We can go home.”
“You do this because you don’t want me to practice so you can be better than me, huh?”
Shaking her head, she tries to reason with her. “I would never. Really. I’m over that.”
“Who are you kidding? Yourself or me?” Hyun questions, taking the filled energy-drink can before tossing it in the nearby trashcan. “Happy now?”
“Hyun—”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go home.”
Her body brushes against hers when passing by her, the clicking of her shoes a sound that she doesn’t want to ignore. Hyun, in that moment, becomes a heroine to her. Image of hardships and hard work, someone who would rather tire herself out than disappointing her vision of herself. Perhaps, she had judged everything wrongly, imagined herself to be this immaculate being that did not deserve to be hurt.
No one does. Hyun didn’t either.
Mingyu accompanies her outside, like he always does, ready to go out with her after another show. However, as the wind bites her arms under her dark denim jacket and the taxis pass by them, ready to be called by her, she feels his hand resting over her shoulder, turning around to look at him. Peaceful, yet worried.
Tugging at the sleeves of his pink sweater, the strands of his hair swirling against his forehead with the movement of the breezy night, Mingyu admits: “I think you need to drop out of this musical. Kaleigh does not care about any of you.”
That much she knows. The leader, the director, only cares about the image she wants to portray of the character, not about the actors that play them. Still, letting go would mean going back home…and back home, she’d go back to the same routine. “What if I don’t find another chance to be on the stage?”
Mingyu sighs. “You and Hyun aren’t so different after all.” The more she sees herself projected in that vanity backstage, the more she sees herself turning into Hyun. Though talented, a portion of herself will get lost down this path. The one that hopes for a happy ending. “Sometimes, we have to realize that what we dream of is not always going to be our reality. And this is not to tell you your dream is not valid, because it is, but the more you stay here…the more it will hurt you to leave. You deserve better than what Kaleigh is giving you, and even if you end up with a small role in some show, or get back on stage again…you’re still you.”
“Well, maybe I’m tired of being me.” She replies, letting her weight lean against the side of his body, his arm cradling her shoulders, eyes looking down at her while she connects her gaze with his, down to his lips.
“I like you.” Mingyu rasps out, though, if he knew where she lived…what she saw…what she knew about his past, would he still be open about those words? “Please, never stop being you.”
She thinks, at this moment in her life, she’ll never stop being his. Yours, she wants to tell him, even if this doesn’t work out, my soul will always be yours.
Though, she fears. What if he isn’t hers? Though he wasn’t hers at the beginning of it all, she kept seeking—
And now, mere centimeters away, with his lips parted, she has him. Breaths mingling when she softens her lips against his, drapes a silent confession that she can’t quite get out without feeling guilty. If he knew more about her, perhaps, he wouldn’t like her. The issues of not knowing how to differentiate what people perceive of her and what she perceives herself, but right now, as she’s with him, she likes who she is. Her truest version, delicate, not aching to feel more, to have more of him, just letting their lips meet softly, knowingly, as if she knows every portion of him and yet, to him, she’s only a shadow.
Her arm hooks around his neck, tilting her body to the side to taste more of him, relishing on his perfume, his hands, the way he always seems to make her feel unique, and not to outcast her, but to blend her into the groups of people that fall for each other. The romanticism that falls into monotony, but it’s oh-so-perfect in its own way.
“That’s my answer for you.” She replies when pulling away, awestruck brown eyes blinking back at her when she smiles.
I like you too, Mingyu.
###
When looking at Mingyu, she would have never believed their first official date would come in the shape of a rock concert. Much less would she have imagined that, upon entering Mingyu’s apartment, much smaller than the house he once shared with Yoona, he’d have collectables of memories that he doesn’t have the time to explain, rushing to get out the door and get to the concert. A local band that she has no idea about, but try their hardest to leave their imprint in this world.
Kissing in cars is how the date ends. In some taxi, with sneaky touches and stolen kisses that promise for a better night. Hazed in his smile, in the tight black shirt that clads his body and the way his big hand splays across her thigh, claiming a portion of her body as his. After a month, even more, of seeing each other, Mingyu feels closer than ever, seated on a portion of her heart as if it is his throne, and it may be. A King of Hearts, as she likes to call him.
The band t-shirt he had bought when getting out of the venue rests over her body, halfway pushed inside his jeans as she twists her head to the side and rests fleeting kisses on the side of his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs, a sharp intake of his breath coming with the tightening hold on her tight.
“Something you should know…” He starts, only to have her humming, teeth digging into the skin of his neck as she hums. “I—I’m not really patient, you know?” His voice wavers, enough to have her chuckling when she pulls away from him and rests a kiss on his shoulder.
“I’ve noticed. Quite childish if you ask me.”
“It’s hard to be patient when you’re around.” She looks at him from the corner of her eye, smiling.
“I’ll have to teach you how to wait, huh?”
Though, when Mingyu had gotten on that taxi, she had not thought about the address she gave. The taxi driver parks outside, thanked by Mingyu as he gives him counted bills and gets out of the yellow car. Much to her distaste, however, when she gets off as well, Mingyu is staring ahead at the white house that had once been shared with the love of his life—
Yoona.
The woman who almost married him.
The one person he had never talked about.
Mingyu opened up about a lot of portions of his live. Childhood. Cousins. Parents. Music. Photography. Collections. Love from teenage years, but Yoona was never touched. Never talked about. She never pushed it, knowing better than getting that information out of him, but when she stands by his side, watching his face turn somber, he softly asks:
“You live here?”
Warning signs appear inside her head, blaring red lights leaving her with no emergency exits. The line has cut short, no longer letting her lie to him in order to keep her secret intact. She knew him before he actually knew her, and she had thought of him as charming then. “Mingyu, yes. I didn’t want to tell you because—”
“Wait, why wouldn’t you want to tell me?” His face turns towards her, and she knows at that moment that she had fucked up. He had not assumed that she knew anything, only asked absentmindedly as memories flashed before his eyes. “Do you know something I don’t?”
She swallows thickly. She could lie to him, come up with lines and improvise, but Mingyu is one of those people that doesn’t deserve that. Instead, she tugs at the collar of the t-shirt on her body, sighing deeply. “Listen,” She starts. “When I got here, I found a box that said ‘throw away’ and it had a bunch of CD’s inside…”
Mingyu pulls back at that moment, shaking his head. “No—”
“And I watched them. You were in all of them with your ex…Yoona.” She whispers, looking over to the side, watching the house that had both introduced her to the person she feels like she is falling for, and that may take him away at that moment. “I didn’t want to pry, I swear. I just…I just did and I kept on watching because of you, and destiny did its thing and it brought us together at the bar, and with you as my musical’s photographer.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mingyu asks, and she comes up with nothing. Because she didn’t want for him to close up with her, of course. “You knew more about him than I knew about you, and you didn’t even think about giving those CD’s to me…or just…or just tell me that she had kept them there!”
“Well, I just didn’t want you to think I was stalking you or something. It was all a coincidence!” She replies, only to have Mingyu running his hands through his hair, chuckling at the sky before groaning deeply.
“That’s my privacy!”
“Well, it’s not like I knew it was private before!” She argues back, frowning at him. “Besides, why is it so deep for you? You know about Haseul, why does it matter if I know that you almost married Yoona? It’s not like I’m jealous of a woman of your past—”
“Because you have no idea how long it took me to get over her!” Mingyu replies, voice rising, chest heaving. Then, a pout takes over his features as he explains himself, retreating the tone of voice he had just taken up on.
“If you’d let me know what happened, maybe I could understand—”
“Turns out I had a toxic relationship. She wanted me to be her little puppet, make her fantasy come true of a perfect man, and a perfect family, and possibly a…I don’t know…a social media presence where we showed how perfect we are but…I’m not perfect.” He breathes out, biting his bottom lip as he looks at her. “Can you blame me for not wanting to remember all the turmoil I went through because of her?”
“You can just not talk about it if that’s the case. I don’t mind. But you can tell me about these things—” She entices. “I’m not going to judge you, Mingyu. Our pasts are there for a reason—”
“Don’t give me that.” Mingyu answers, smile lines intensified by the purse of his lips. “You always say you want to change your past, to start again, to not remember—”
“But my past and my mistakes made me meet you!” She exclaims. “I can’t turn back time and change things because, maybe, I wouldn’t have met you if that was the case. I like you, Mingyu, almost married or not. I like you for who you are and who you were.”
“If you liked me so much, you could’ve just told me.” Mingyu mumbles, blinking softly.
“…I was afraid, okay? I get to be afraid, too. Just as you were.”
Mingyu falls silent for a second, deep in thought, walking backwards as he says: “I—I just need some time, okay? I get you, but I need…I need to process this.”
She tries to go after him, shaking her head. “Mingyu, don’t do that. We have to talk about this. I didn’t mean to remind you of a bad time—”
“Just…burn that fucking box and…and I’ll talk to you about it later, okay?” Mingyu whispers out, goosebumps going up her arms when she watches him go. Never had she seen him so shattered, hands shaking as he remembers that one portion of his life he never wanted back.
He had seemed so in love.
And now, he can’t fall in love as easily.
Yet, a new beginning is necessary, so when she retreats to her home, she picks up a lighter, walking far down the street with the box in hand to light it up.
The past makes who they are, but it doesn’t define them. From now on, she is the only one that can decide her future, and so can Mingyu for his own life.
###
“Care to tell me why you ruined every single one of my pictures?”
Last show, but Kaleigh doesn’t know it. Just as she’s applying another layer of purple onto her eye, as if to indicate the bruises from her character, Mingyu speaks to her. Over one week of not talking to each other, texts going ignored, time asked whenever they meet, and she has met more than the middle of the situation. Now she wants to go forward, know more of him than of herself, movement more eccentric in order to fuck up his work.
If that’s what it takes to get his attention…
She shrugs her shoulders, patting the makeup sponge against her eye. If he doesn’t want to talk, she won’t talk either. “Just some new dance moves. I added some popping because the character felt like it needed it.” It’s utter bullshit, and the way Jaehyo snorts from his spot tells her that no one believes her. Even Hyun seems to chuckle at her antics, Mingyu’s lost expression mirrored in the vanity.
“Bullshit.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Kim, I don’t think you can talk to the cast like that.” She answers, mischief painted on her face when she connects her gaze with his through the mirror.
Scoffing, he says: “You didn’t think that when you ruined all my shots from yesterday’s night.”
The makeup sponge now rests against the table, her fingers interlocked as she talks to him through the mirror. Today, Mingyu props some pink sunglasses on his head, a leather jacket placed on top of a white t-shirt. “I’m sure they look fine, Mr. Kim. They always do.”
“They’re all blurry.”
“My apologies. You may have to take some pictures tonight, then.”
“…If you even let me. You’re moving around like you have pinworms.”
“Oh my God!” Sue says from her spot, elbows pressing to the back of her chair to be able to look at the scenery. “Is this a pre-marital issue?”
“I think so.” Jaehyo conquers, but she only throws a look at them.
“He’s the one that doesn’t want to talk to me.” She says, standing up from her spot to be in front of Mingyu, in all his glory, staring back at her with a stoic expression. “So…in order to get his attention, I had to find other ways to do it.”
Mingyu breathes out softly, staring around the room before wrapping his hand around her arm. “You want to talk? Let’s do it in private.”
The storage room in which they had met initially, memory of the umbrella that she hit against his head, now becomes the spot for them to meet in. Far more cramped than she remembers it for, with a tiny chair that Mingyu used to take up on to check his pictures. The man in question locks the reddened door behind him, giving one step forward and hence, ending up pressed to her body, hands placed on his own hips when he asks:
“You have something to say? Speak.”
Maybe, she had tried the worst of ways to get his attention. Annoyance, for once, is not something that pairs up with Mingyu’s face in most occasions. Yet, she finally gets to hear his voice. Angered. Cut short. Yet, unknowing of the reality that breathes through her pores.
“I’m sorry…for not telling you I had seen those videos. It was your privacy and I shouldn’t have looked, but after I did, I should’ve told you and given them to you to get rid of them. I did, but yeah…” Her voice falls into a softened tone, looking into his brown irises, down to his straight nose, a few speckles of facial hair on top of his lip, barely noticeable and those rose-colored lips that she has been missing for the past week. All of him, really, from his voice to his thoughts, to the impatience that takes over him. “Mingyu, I would never judge you for your past. Not when you weren’t the one at fault. We all make mistakes and I don’t think any less of you for being naïve enough to involve yourself in that situation. I like you with or without Yoona in your life. If you want to talk about it, I’ll accept it…if you don’t—”
“I want to talk about it.” Mingyu says, breathing out in a way that has the warmth of him touching her lips. His chest expands, flush against her breasts, when he explains his truth. “I met Yoona when I was seventeen. She was friends with Seungkwan, a friend of mine, and he got us in this blind date thingy because…I don’t know, I was bored, I wanted a date.” He shrugs, though his eyes show that he really cares. “So, we started a relationship…and we started living together soon enough. I didn’t care. I worked two jobs, all to be able to move from our apartment to a bigger house, and then she got other jobs…and we made it. She said she wanted to have a family soon, that she’d start recording us…whatever. You know that part.” His life seemed so much easier than what he described, but that’s just what the video-camera showed. “Turns out that she got out of all her jobs, expected me to pay for everything, and lived the most exotic of lifestyles. If I ever told her we couldn’t buy something, she’d take it out on me…” Mingyu sighs, shaking his head in the process. “We’d fight all the time, but I loved her, so I proposed. Turns out that it didn’t work, and I cut off the engagement the morning of our wedding.”
“As you should have…” She elongates, only to have Mingyu chuckling darkly.
“Yeah. I was reassured that it was a good decision when three days later she started dating a famous YouTube guy and she started vlogging for real.”
“I’m so sorry, Mingyu.” With all the sincerity she can muster, locked away in the depths of her heart only for him to see, she sighs. “…You deserve better.”
“I know I do.” He finalizes. Looking down at her lips before smiling softly. “Glad we sorted that out.”
“Sorted that out? I acted like a spoiled brat just to get your attention. I’m sorry for that, too—”
“Ah, don’t worry.” Mingyu replies, wrapping his arms around her waist before pressing her back to the wall. The dry paint clings to her clothing, rubs against it when his fingers rub against her skin over the fabric. “You always have my attention, even if you ruin my pictures in purpose just to get me to talk to you. I needed some time, that’s all.”
“Yeah…I’m so sorry.”
Mingyu doesn’t utter another word, lips conjoining in a smile before they rest over her own. Much of the like of the type of kisses they had shared in that taxi ride, hands folding the fabric of her clothing when he brings her clothing, breathing against her skin as he slowly takes over the kiss. His lips part, his left hand going down to his hips, towards her thigh before lifting it over, pulling their bodies closer when he settles himself between her legs, head turned to the side just as her fingers rake through his hair.
He doesn’t care. Doesn’t mind having his hair messy, his camera pushed away from his neck and put carefully to the side as she continues kissing him. Though, he does care about her, only pulling away to ask: “How many minutes you have until you go up the stage?”
Staring at the clock on the wall, she breathes against his lips. “Like thirty minutes.”
“May I…?” Mingyu asks, eyes joining desire with worry, pressing his hips forward, abdomen contracting when her hand caresses his jaw, touches his neck and lets her thumb rub over the column of his throat.
“…Of course, Mingyu.”
It’s not the most romantic of places, but it happens with a soul she doesn’t want to exchange. For once, his name becomes a poem, and she will never find a rhyme better than him.
###
Two set of judgmental eyes watch her as she slides the folded piece of paper in her hands towards Kaleigh. Always sporting an all-black outfit, those glasses that hide the malice in her gaze, and before her lips could part to utter one of her simplistic sentences, she bathes on the glow of getting out of her last show. Of trying her best, and yet, not having the best outcome.
“It’s over.” She says, sighing deeply with joined lips as she rests her hands in the depths of her jeans’ pockets. “I don’t want to be part of this musical anymore. Thank you for the opportunity, but I feel as though I don’t fit this team…or your vision of me, whatsoever.”
There, while the rest of the team are taking off their makeups, getting rid of their clothing, children bustling around, overexcited from the sceneries, Kaleigh is speechless. Hyun, on one hand, steps forward, eyes widened.
“She can’t leave.” Turning to her, she shakes her head. “You can’t leave, you’re one of the main characters.”
“I don’t think I will continue down a path of happiness if I stay here. My mental health comes first, and Kaleigh can’t bring me that as a director.” She adds, pointing at the paper in between Kaleigh’s hands, still unopened. “Right there, you can see my resignation letter. I don’t want to be part of this team anymore, and Kaleigh can choose to talk badly about me as an actress if she so pleases.”
Kaleigh scoffs from her spot, nodding at what she says. “Of course, I will. How unprofessional do you have to be to leave the musical like this?”
What hurts her the most is leaving her cast. Leaving her character, ever, that wants to give out such an important message about the reality people live. Instead, she has to let go. Better opportunities will come for a dream that is not yet set in stone. “Very. But I think it’s the best decision.” Pushing herself away from the situation, she starts walking away from the stage. Her home, really, but one that will fall to shambles if she doesn’t leave now.
She doesn’t expect to hear someone’s voice then. “We need you.” Mixed with her name, Hyun speaks. The woman that hates her the most, yet, when turning around, seems to look at her with a plea in her brown eyes. She smiles, because Hyun deserves it. The woman is given, that much she can say.
“You don’t.” She answers, sighing deeply. “The stage needs you, but it doesn’t need me. As long as you keep this story alive, I can be replaced. That, you don’t have to worry about—”
“But you won the audition—”
“No, it was given to me.” Truthfully, the more she thought about it, the more she realized Kaleigh never wanted her there for her talent. “And I don’t want to be there for publicity. I don’t need that pressure on me. So, the real talent should stay.”
With that, she turns around, giving the last few steps until the coldness of the night bites at her skin.
Seated on the sidewalk, Mingyu rummages through his phone, unaware of her presence as he listens to music with his earphones plugged in. The cars pass by, gray concrete matching his dark outfit. Just a few hours earlier, she had seen him without him, but not sedated yet, she kneels until she is hugging him from behind, pressing a kiss to his cheek and humming in delight at the heat of his body.
Not hers. A person can’t be hers. And though he isn’t hers, she doesn’t mind it.
Mingyu takes off one of his earphones, turning around to look at her and asking a silent question with his eyes.
“What?” She puzzles, only to have Mingyu widening his eyes.
“How did it go?”
“Badly. It hurts.” Her heart aches at the idea of not getting another chance, giving all her might into acting tonight…and perhaps, the only night that she will get to act again. “But it’s what I had to do. I’m going to find a better opportunity later on.”
His smile widens, leaning forward to steal a kiss from her lips before joining his free hand with the ones conjoined over his stomach. “I’m so proud of you.”
“If you’re so proud, let me invite you to dinner.” Standing up, she watches as he follows after her steps.
“Let me pay for once!” He whines, only to see her shaking her head.
“Nope. I’m your designated sugar mommy.”
“You’re totally not.” Mingyu denies, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
“Come on, let me live the dream.”
Though, hers will remain paused for now…until a better chance comes about. A real one, perhaps.
###
Bad news always come like a train-wreck. Life is silent for a second, too eerily silent, and the moment she opens her eyes, everything is shattered. This time around, it wasn’t any different. Seated on the counter, Mingyu working on making a set of pancakes, taking his precious time on heating them to utter perfection, she doesn’t think anything when turning on her phone. If anything, she is staring forward, at the way Mingyu’s back muscles contract with the movements of his arms.
Kim Mingyu has this magic of appearing in someone’s life and never giving the person the benefit of asking themselves if they want him to leave. She doesn’t, and that’s factual. A little above a month after she left her job at the musical, she has tried to avoid all contact with everyone from her cast—from Jaehyo to Sue, obviously with Hyun, trying her hardest to show to her family and friends back at home that she can stay here and fulfill a dream. So far, nothing has worked.
But Mingyu has.
Not spoken into the night but fallen into place, Mingyu spends more time at her place than he does on his, giving a piece of his heart to her, while he has all of hers. With each passing day, the comfort of him becomes the sunlight of her days, though the clouds seem to gather in her personal life. Mingyu finds gigs, but the tabloids have forgotten about her after the viral video of her past relationship.
This time around, the headlines in her phone—from the notifications of her favorite magazine—inform her something more.
Han Hyun dies while practicing for new musical. Doctors confirm gastrointestinal bleeding.
When standing up, the chair falls behind her. Fear. Petrification. Perhaps, regret. Hyun had so much life within her—a pulsating need to be the best, and she was. Then, stress took up all of her life. So young, yet now not existing in the same world as them.
The room seems to rotate by the time Mingyu speaks her name into the dense air. “Hey, what happened?” He moves towards her, but she gives a few steps back, uttering the words that hurt her just by hearing them.
“Hyun died.”
One never really thinks about an enemy dying. A rival, really. The fear starts to become palpable when people think of their loved ones dying, but when it comes to someone that they can’t stand…it almost seems favorable. To have them away from this world. Yet, she can’t even utter another word, entering her room and throwing herself into the bed. The sheets are crumpled between her palms, tears blinding her vision as she thinks of all the times, she bumped hands with Hyun.
She was so talented.
It almost felt like she had to take care of her. Each and every single time she told her to mind her own business, she never did.
The door opens softly, her name called once again, though she doesn’t want to listen. Never has she liked Mingyu seeing her crying, but at this point, when he rests his weight next to her on the bed, his elbow resting adjacent to her body as he horizontally leans his weight on her back, she can’t help but let out a little weep.
“Hey…” His fingers trail down her spine, speaking softly. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” She turns around, hair done a mess as she stares into his eyes, trying to stop the hiccups that shake her frame. “She had so much to give, and look at what happened to her. I couldn’t even—I don’t know, say goodbye to her?”
“You don’t have to think about what you didn’t do.” Mingyu replies after a few seconds of silence, bringing his body forward until he is hovering over her, kissing the tears away before pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “…You can only think about what you’re going to do now. Not take people for granted. Get to know people better. Avoid rivalries. That’s all you can do.”
Staring up at him, she realizes one thing. One day, we’re here, the other, we’re not. We don’t belong to anyone—not even ourselves—, but to the world instead. Life plays with us like marionettes, puts us in places that we think we can never get out of, but the road ahead is so much more surprising. Living in a labyrinth, looking for people who understood her, new beginnings and thrilling stories, she found someone. A person that she doesn’t want to lose, and someone whom hasn’t heard the truth. The full and heart-wrenching truth.
Because Mingyu is there. Belongs to the universe, and never to her. One day, anything could happen. He could get tired, bored, could simply move on and call it quits. He could come home one day and say that he doesn’t want to be with her anymore. But now, as his sleepy gaze stares at her with worry, she realizes that she doesn’t want him to belong to her. She wants to be with him. Aches and desires to spill her truth out and enjoy him for the time that life plants him there for her to enjoy.
May the flowers bloom of the seeds her words leave. They could die, but they will get to grow first.
“…I have to tell you something. Before it’s too late to actually say it…” She mumbles, rubbing her eyes and her nose, sniffling softly before looking into his eyes. There has always been this understanding in him, even when he doesn’t always say the proper thing—as if he knows, deep within him, that they understand each other. That no matter how many times mistakes settle on their hearts, they know their deepest intentions. “It may be too soon for you and I know I said I’d wait until you’re ready but—”
“I love you.” He says it first, aware, not shying away, savoring the taste on the roof of his mouth before stealing another kiss away from her lips. “I don’t want to wait. Good things can’t wait.”
He always said he wasn’t the most patient, but perhaps, she was the one that would wait a thousand years just to have him.
There is not an exact reason that she can think of as to why he would love her. Why, out of all things, Mingyu would open up his heart again—and why she does, too. They have been broken, but they grew two new, stronger hearts. Not fixing the old ones, but helping each other craft a new organ. One where he made a home for her, and she has made a throne for him.
“I love you and I want you to know that I’m here for you. For anything. Whatever you need me for.” He breathes out, rubbing his fingers on her cheek before looking down at her. “…If it wasn’t that what you were going to tell me, I’m sorry. Again, my second name is dumbass so—”
“I love you, too, Mingyu.” She tries to chuckle through the tears, though her bottom lip pouts out and Mingyu sighs deeply, wrapping his arms around her and relishing her with a kiss.
Though love is not perfect, it’s much better to meet in the middle. Two people who will either end up together forever, or for whatever long ever decides to stay. Never can be an option, too, but she knows that whatever the outcome is, Mingyu is the one portion of her past that she would never want to forget.
And it’s time for her to learn that the hours of the life clock are ticking, and she wants to spend all of them with him.
#mingyu scenarios#mingyu#seventeen scenarios#seventeen#kpop scenarios#writing#seventeen au#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#mingyu au#mingyu fluff#mingyu angst#photographer!au#musical actress!Au#this is such a slowburn fic like lord help me#also i've had this idea since last year and didn't know who to write it for but#mingyu seemed fitting so#here goes
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Like Old Times (Father-Son Bonding AU)
A direct sequel to the “Expiration Date” fic, which I’ll link in a reblog. I’ve also posted all my fics in this AU to AO3!! Thanks again to @thetriggeredhappy for their help and just generally being a cool dude, and the Scoutsune Discord server for indulging my brainrot
No warnings beyond family schmoop!
Less than an hour after the bread monster incident, the Administrator called for a ceasefire. “Only while your base is repaired,” she said over the TV screen. “BLU is quite disappointed in this negligence- as am I. Regardless, you may use these three days as you see fit. Go home, stay here- whatever you do, no more bread monsters.” The screen turned off with a click.
Scout exhaled through his nose. He was thankful there was no mention of him or Miss Pauling’s woodchipper.
Spy decloaked behind him. “Less time than I wanted, but c’est la vie.” Scout looked at him over his shoulder. “I’m meeting with an old contact during our break,” Spy said in Italian. “Would you like to come along? It’ll be like old times.”
Scout’s brow furrowed, but he nodded. At least this way, he’d get out of helping Engie and Heavy with repairs. And possibly meeting Miss Pauling’s woodchipper.
“Excellent. Our flight is at 7 AM tomorrow.”
“We’re flying commercial?” Scout asked, also in (more hesitant) Italian.
“Our destination is continental. We’ll leave the base by 5:30.” Scout groaned as Spy started to leave. But- wait, he hadn’t-
“Oi, where are we going, anyway?” he called back in English.
Spy paused to look at him and smile. “Boston.”
“Why do we always get the ass-crack-of-dawn flights?” Jeremy asked groggily, reclining his seat.
“They are the ones with first-class seats available,” Raphael replied. He took a sip from his mimosa.
“Yeah, cuz God forbid you fly coach for once.” Jeremy shifted, trying to get comfortable. “Hey. Have I ever been to Boston before?”
Raphael didn’t answer immediately. His lip sucked in, as if in thought. “Yes. When you were very, very young. You wouldn’t remember.”
Jeremy nodded. He wanted to ask more, there was something Raphael wasn’t saying but… well, he was never a morning person. He fell asleep before the plane even took off.
. . .
It was mid-afternoon by the time they landed in Boston. Jeremy was never fond of long flights; having his legs cramped like that for extended periods of time was murder. He was half tempted to take a jog around Logan International. Raphael, on the other hand, was ushering them both to the car rental. “Can’t even get a stretch in, huh?”
“Unfortunately, we are expected by 4, and I would hate to keep my contact waiting,” Raphael explained in French, accepting the keys from the girl at the counter. “She’s not a very patient woman, in some regards.”
Jeremy huffed but didn’t argue. He just followed his father to the rental, tossing his suitcase in the backseat. “Y’know, the girl at the counter-”
“We will not have time for you to go out on a date, Jeremy.”
“No! No, it was- her accent’s kinda like mine, it’s weird,” Jeremy said. Raphael started the car. “Cuz I’ve only been here as a baby, and I got mine from TV and shit. It’s just… really strange, is all.”
Raphael made a quiet noise of agreement. “Some of the shows you watched as a child were filmed here. It’s not as complex as you think it is.”
“Yeah, probably not…”
The pair lapsed into silence as Raphael drove. Storefronts and high rises morphed into houses. It had been a while since they were in a residential area. RED, for understandable reasons, kept away from civilians.
Raphael took the roads with practiced experience. Sure, it had been implied he knew the area. If he had a contact here- one with a house, presumably- he must’ve spent time here. But this- this was far too familiar. A bit suspicious, actually.
Eventually, Raphael slowed in front of a more rundown Brownstone. Still quite nice, just needed a little work. It felt… welcoming, in a way Jeremy couldn’t name.
“Lotta cars,” he observed as Raphael parallel parked. “Must be a party going on somewhere.”
“Hmm, perhaps,” Raphael said, turning the car off. “Would you mind ringing the doorbell for me? I need to grab something from the trunk. Ask for Sara Jane.”
OK, now Jeremy knew something was up. He was never the one to make the first contact, that was always Dad’s job. Jeremy might be a full-grown adult, but there were some things that didn’t change. This was one of them.
Still, he nodded. He climbed up the front steps and ringed the doorbell. He heard- multiple voices from inside, predominantly male, but they quickly silenced themselves. A TV, perhaps? They really ought to get that flower box on the second story window fixed-
The woman who opened the door was a bit shorter than him, though not by much. She was wearing a simple dress, hoop earrings, and flats. Her hair was dark, curved to her chin. But her nose and earlobes felt… achingly familiar. Like Jeremy saw them all the time.
“Um, hi, I’m looking for Sara Jane? My name’s-” The rest of his speech was knocked out of him as the woman launched herself at him. Jeremy braced for an attack, but quickly realized she was… hugging him.
She was hugging him, sobbing, and choked out the word “Jeremy.”
Wait. He knew that voice. He had only heard it a few times in his life, few enough he could count them on one hand, but he knew it. “M-Ma?” he whispered.
The woman- Sara Jane- Ma looked up at him, still crying. Her hands found his face as she observed him. “Y-yeah, sweetie, it’s me, it’s-it’s your ma,” she said.
“Ma!” he laughed, tears of his own dancing down his cheeks. He hugged her back, practically lifting her off her feet. “Oh my God, Ma! I-I never thought I’d-”
“Oh Jeremy, sweetie, look how tall you’ve gotten! Last I saw you, you fit in my arms! My baby, my handsome baby,” she spoke over him. She rubbed circles into his back as they embraced. It felt so, so right.
Jeremy laughed even harder. “Are you kiddin’? I got it from you, you’re beautiful, Ma!” He stared at her, trying to commit every mole and wrinkle and perfect flaw to memory. “I can’t believe- oh my God, I’m actually meeting you!”
“It was long overdue,” another voice said, as Raphael joined them on the front stoop. “I had put it off for safety reasons, but considering our current, ah, situation… I felt it was worth the risk.”
Sara Jane squealed, pulling Raphael into the hug as well. “You’ve been taking good care of my boy, you promise me, Raphael?”
“Don’t worry Ma, he’s the best dad I could ask for, considering,” Jeremy teased.
“Oh, don’t I know it. Called me up last night and told me to get the whole motley crew together. Even managed to get Melvin to bring his twin daughters, bless his wife’s heart,” she explained.
Jeremy blinked. “Uh- Melvin? Daughters?”
Sara Jane laughed. It sounded so much like Jeremy’s it practically hurt. This was his mother. Lord, he’s finally seeing her. “Melvin’s your older brother, sweetie. Eh, sixth oldest. Bobby’s the oldest.”
“I have a brother?”
“Oh honey, you’re the youngest of eight,” Sara Jane said plainly.
“...fuck,” Jeremy whispered.
. . .
He didn’t just have seven brothers. He had seven brothers, four of which brought their wives, one who brought his boyfriend, and three who brought their kids. And the kids totaled to an additional six, counting the babies.
It was… an admittedly tight squeeze in the living room.
Sara Jane introduced Jeremy. Jeremy had been expecting to be treated like a stranger. He had vanished when he was a baby, after all, and his younger-older brothers probably wouldn’t remember him at all.
And yet, it was like he knew them all his life.
They teased him and punched him playfully and acted so friendly, so familial it nearly made Jeremy break down. He was still crying from meeting Ma, but being dogpiled with so much affection was suffocating. In a good way. He had seen on sitcoms the intrinsic bond between family, and while he felt it with Dad, they also risked their lives nearly daily. But it was real, it was here, and it was wrapping him in a warm blanket.
Despite the chaos and the sheer number of people, Jeremy didn’t feel overwhelmed. He laughed and played along with their jokes, cracking some back when he could get a word in. Scott ragged on his dog tags, he countered by pointing out the hole in his pants. Michael told him he was still a shortass, he replied with “it takes one to know one.” Elliot and Ricky were the closest to actually getting hurt, and that was only because Jeremy elbowed them both so hard they nearly fell over.
For the first time in 25 years, Jeremy understood what “home” meant.
The kids were especially curious, eager to meet their uncle and step-grandfather. Within seconds, young Rebecca- only four years old- was challenging Jeremy to a race around the house. “I’m the fastest kid in the world,” she bragged, puffing out her chest.
“Oh yeah?” Jeremy asked. “That a fact?”
“You wanna test me? I beat Johnny Three-Legs at running, and he’s got three legs!” Jeremy laughed and stood from the couch, letting her lead him outside. “On the count of three, OK?”
“You’re on, pipsqueak,” Jeremy teased.
“Onetwothree GO!” Rebecca yelled, taking off in a sprint. Jeremy knew that, by all accounts, he should beat her. His legs were longer, she didn’t have the proper running stance, and it was his job to be fast. That’s what he got paid to do. But some small voice was telling him to let her win, so he did. “Ha! I told ya!”
“Ya sure did,” he replied, mock panting. “Look at you, a freaking blur on the green. You’re goin’ to the Olympics, kid.”
Rebecca beamed and hugged his leg. “Promise, Uncle Jeremy?” He nodded because, after that display, there was no way he could speak without squeaking like a chew toy.
Rebecca skipped back inside, past Raphael, who was watching on the stoop. “You’re a natural with children,” he observed. “I used to do the same thing when you were that age.”
“Wait- wait, really? You sure fooled me,” Jeremy said.
Raphael rolled his eyes. “What’s my job again, mon lapin?”
“Yeah, yeah…” Jeremy leaned against the railing, watching Raphael’s cigarette smoke in the wind. “Hey. Uh… thanks for arranging all of this. You really didn’t need to.”
“But I did. I meant it when I said this was overdue. I’ve been wanting to introduce you to the rest of the family for a while, but have been unable. Then that whole ordeal with the supposed tumors, and-” Raphael exhaled slowly. “It wouldn’t have been fair to you if you died without knowing them. I would’ve never forgiven myself.”
Jeremy punched his shoulder lightly. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, pops. It all worked out, we’re still kicking, and that roast chicken Ma’s making smells incredible. Everything’s perfect.”
Raphael finished his cigarette and smiled. “Oui. It is.”
. . .
While Sara Jane had been able to get the rest of the family here, it was a school night. Kids needed to be tucked in by 9:30, so most of Jeremy’s brothers were gone by 8. Elliot was staying overnight, as was his boyfriend. Otherwise, the house quickly went from bustling to barren.
It gave Jeremy a chance to explore his would-be childhood home.
He made his way upstairs, pushing open one of the doors. It led- to little surprise- to a bedroom. It was set up like a nursery, with a crib in one corner and a toddler bed in the other. Toys were scattered about across the floor.
He heard Sara Jane sigh behind him. “This was your room, you know.” Jeremy turned to look at her as she flipped the light switch. “That crib… I had put you to bed the night your father planned to fake his death. I was in on the whole plan, naturally. He wanted to hold you one last time, so I said OK. When I woke up the next morning… you were both gone.” She exhaled slowly, grabbing onto his shoulder. “I wrote both of you off as dead, but I knew what had happened. Honestly, should’ve figured it out before then. You hadn’t woken me up crying,” she joked. Her eyes were watering.
Jeremy hugged her, pulling her close. “You never took the crib down?”
“By the time I was ready, Bobby’s wife was pregnant, so I kept it up for my grandbabies. I knew- I knew you were out there, sweetie. Both of you.” She kissed his cheek, squeezing him.
“I-I never got to be a normal kid, really,” he confessed. “I mean, Dad did his best, gave me comic books and board games and stuff, but-but I never went to school or made friends or anything like that. I-I didn’t even know I had a family. It took me forever to even realize I had a Ma. An-and everything I did-” The tears were flowing again, more freely than earlier. “Ya missed me losing my first tooth, and potty trainin’, and all that stuff parents should know about. I-I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Sara Jane wiped his cheek dry. “Don’t apologize for what your father did, Jeremy. And definitely don’t apologize for me not potty training another kid. Besides… hold on, I’ll be right back.” She made her way down the hallway. Jeremy didn’t follow, instead deciding to examine the crib. This was where he grew up. It was a simple crib, obviously well-used. Not worn-down, mind, just… used. It had a history. A history that Jeremy wanted to decode, but unlike his dad’s ciphers, he didn’t have the key.
“Took me a second to find it,” Sara Jane said. She handed him what appeared to be a scrapbook. “Raphael- he wrote when he can. Taught me some basic codes, would send out letters whenever you’d leave a town. Never left a return address, but…” Jeremy flipped through the pages, moving to sit on the small bed. The letters were all coded but appeared to be about how much Raphael missed Sara Jane. Updates on Jeremy’s growth. Letters from a father to his lover and son’s mother.
One page jumped out to him, though. “I remember this,” he said, running his fingers against the paper. It was a simple drawing of a young boy, holding a catcher’s mitt, and a taller man next to him. “I drew this after Dad took me to my first baseball game, for my eighth birthday. I thought I lost the drawing after we skipped town, but- he sent them to you?”
Sara Jane nodded. “And I kept them all. Oh, honey, the day I first heard your voice on the phone- Mikey can tell you, I damn near fell over. You sounded so happy, and even if I couldn’t see you, that’s all a mother wants.” Jeremy leaned against her and she shut the book. “That’s all a mother wants, sweetie. To see her kids be safe and happy.”
“I am, Ma,” he assured her. “I promise.”
They sat like that for a while, with Sara Jane commenting on various letters and drawings in the scrapbook. Apparently, Raphael sent her money when he could- more frequently now that Mann Co. paid so well. She also had a rough idea of their current occupations. “I figure, if you and your father are working for the same company- with his skills, there’s gotta be a whole lot of nonsense going on out in that desert.” Jeremy laughed at that because she wasn’t wrong. “But I also figure since he raised you right, he’ll keep the both of you safe.”
“I keep him safe too, don’t worry,” Jeremy added. “Uh- listen, it’s touching and all you kept the crib, but I don’t have to sleep in it, right?”
They both had a good chuckle over that. Their laughs were in perfect harmony.
. . .
The next two days were a mix of learning the family history and exploring Boston. It was the offseason, so there weren’t any games going on at Fenway, but Jeremy still got a picture in front of the park. Sara Jane took the pair to a restaurant that served “the best damn clam chowder in the contiguous United States.” Which, incidentally, led them to discover Jeremy was allergic to clams. Thankfully they didn’t have to go to the hospital- he just sort of immediately got sick before it passed- but it did suck.
It was damn good chowder, though.
They went down to the harbor where the Boston Tea Party happened. It was crowded with people, resulting in them not staying long. Jeremy was a bit better with crowds than Raphael, but neither was great with them. Came with the job. Getting overpriced memorabilia from a nearby gift shop, though, went over much more smoothly.
When not out on the town, Sara Jane dug out more scrapbooks and photo albums, catching Raphael up on what his stepsons had been up to. She showed Jeremy pictures from Ricky’s first school play to Scott opening up his butcher shop. Graduation pictures, wedding pictures, baby pictures- it was all there, and Jeremy devoured it. He wanted to know these people. He wanted to know his family.
And he did. He learned about Michael’s stint in the Navy, Melvin meeting his wife, how Bobby’s son could dribble a basketball for twenty minutes straight. He learned about how his parents met. How Raphael loved each of Sara Jane’s children, even if they weren’t biologically his. How Jeremy wasn’t planned- few of the kids were - but they were both so, so happy to realize he was coming.
He also learned that, while diner food would remain the undisputed king, homemade meatloaf came pretty close.
. . .
The only problem came when it was time to leave. It wasn’t that Jeremy didn’t want to return to work, or leave his Ma behind. Sara Jane wasn’t even torn up over losing her son and lover again. It just felt like there was so much left to say, to do. There was uncertainty as to when they’d be able to return.
“We get time off for Smissmas, I know that’s months away but I’ll be here, I promise,” Jeremy swore, hugging Sara Jane for the eighth time.
“You better,” she said, squeezing him tightly. “You have 25 years worth of gifts to catch up on, not to mention birthday gifts-”
“Ma, you don’t have to go that far,” he whined. He was touched, sure, but the thought of that much luggage was truly frightening. Oh God, he was going to have to get gifts for everybody, wasn’t he? What do kids even want for Smissmas?
“Hush, let me spoil my baby,” Sara Jane told him, kissing his cheek. “Oh, Jeremy…”
Jeremy nodded. “I know, but I’ll call. I’ll write, too. Send pictures if I can.”
“I’ll make sure he does,” Raphael assured her. Sara Jane stood to kiss his lips, with Jeremy looking away pointedly. “You have my word, ma petite chou-fleur.”
“Alright, alright- now get going, I don’t want you two missing your flight. That boss of yours sounds like she’ll tear you both a new one if you’re late,” Sara Jane said, shooing them away. “Love you boys!”
“I love you too, Ma!” Jeremy shouted back, for the very first time.
The drive back to the airport was quiet. Jeremy stared out the window, watching his hometown- he had a hometown- pass by. “Hey, dad?” he asked, still looking outside. Raphael grunted to acknowledge he was listening. “One of these days, our contracts with Mann Co. are gonna expire. We’re gonna have to find new jobs.”
“Yes, that’s correct,” Raphael said. He tapped a rhythm against the steering wheel.
“And-and I was thinking when that time comes… maybe we could come back to Boston. Find some gigs out here,” Jeremy suggested.
Raphael sighed. “Unfortunately, being a spy means that you don’t have the option of retiring, Jeremy. Not until you’re unable to complete your job. At that point, though, you’ve probably died a dozen times over,” he explained. “Even if I could retire, settling down somewhere so close to people I care about- I would still have enemies.”
“Right. ‘Course,” Jeremy said. “It’s OK.”
“That being said,” Raphael continued, “you have the luxury of youth and not being tied down to such a career. If you want to find a job in Boston after we finish with RED, there’s nothing stopping you.”
“But people will still be after me, since I’m your son. And you wouldn’t be around.”
“Every child leaves their parents someday. And you’re strong, Jeremy. You can protect yourself and your family.” Raphael smiled. “I don’t believe Sara Jane needs much protecting, but I do worry.”
Jeremy laughed. “I mean, did ya see the muscles on Scott and Michael? Guys can probably bench press a tractor!”
They both chuckled before settling into quietude. Eventually, though, Jeremy had to break the silence. His voice was barely above a whisper. “I love you.”
“I love you too, mon lapin.”
“...so your nickname for Ma is fucking ‘little cauliflower?’ What the hell, Dad?”
#father-son bonding au#Team Fortress 2#team fortress 2 au#tf2#tf2 fanfiction#tf2 scout#tf2 spy#tf2 scout's mom#dad spy#thetriggeredhappy#spy x scout's ma#noodle writes
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