#so if you want updates for it then that is the tag to follow
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Winter's King 25
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: 😁.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
The queen snores in her bed. At last, peaceful. You leave her as she is, piled in bedclothes amid the glow of the low-burning fire. You emerge into the corridor, silent, and the door drags closed with a scrape at your cautious pull. The shadow by the pillar shifts.
You glance over at the guard. Gilles has been relieved of his watch and another man stands in his place. You think you recognise him. He must’ve been one of those which helped the queen seize your cart. The road feels so very long ago and yet there is still much ahead of you.
“Hold,” the guard warns and gives a whistle, the noise echoing along the high ceilings.
There’s scuffling further down and you turn to face another silhouette, this one slender and lithe like a wraith. Ezme steps into the light of a lamp and stare at you placidly. She beckons with a hand.
“Come, maid, I will show you your quarters,” she says.
You bow your head and go to her. It is unusual you wouldn’t be left to find your way to the servants wing yourself, likely near the kitchens, and yet you are much too weary to question any of it. She turns and you walk at her side. The promise of sleep, even if only a little, has you aching to recline.
The corridors are quiet but for the soft pad of your footsteps. Fewer lamps light the way than in the daytime and the path grows black. You follow the stirring of the women next to you as she carries on. She touches your arm to stop you, nudging you to the right. You wait and listen as she lifts a latch, the metallic noise cutting through the din, and hinges creak loudly.
She guides you into the dark chamber by your wrist. It is lit only by moonlight and a brazier burning at the foot of a broad bed. The door clanks shut and you shiver. Ezme moves around you, her skirts brushing your own, and she goes to the low mattress. You squint, these are not servants’ rooms. The bed frame, the brazier, the space swathed in darkness; more often, bodies crowded over bags of hay or on the scant tatters of blankets.
“You will sleep here,” she says softly, “with me. You will be safe.”
“Safe? From what?” You croak and rub your cheeks as they burn with fatigue.
“Need you ask,” she replies knowingly, “it is much too late for those questions. Come, lay, the morning will be upon us swiftly.”
You don’t argue. She is right. You go to bed and remove your apron and cap. You fold them and put them to the foot of the mattress. She moves a dark square over the blankets towards you. You pause and reach to touch the obscured shape as the dim light offers only vague outline. It’s soft, furry. You feel around and find the familiar rough patch sewn into the lining. It’s the king’s cloak.
“You will want to keep that close,” she says, “the soldier made certain to leave it for you.”
“Bryce?” You wonder aloud, “is he your friend?”
“He is a familiar face,” she shrugs and pulls her dress over her head. “The Lord of the Castle likes him well enough.”
You shift the cloak over your apron and strip off your outer layer, standing only in your shift. You mirror the maid across from you and slip beneath the thick blankets. A sigh escapes you as your muscles finally release the tension of the day. She is still on her back as you lay upon your side, staring at the low flicker of the brazier against the wall.
Curiosity nips at your exhaustion. How does a servant come upon a room like this? Is it simply at your expense? For whatever reason Bryce has bid her to keep you close. Certainly, the old soldier is overly cautious.
Your eyes close before you can think very much on the unexpected resting spot. The day has been turbulent and full of many surprises. You only dread those that await you on the morrow.
⚔️
Ezme wakes you from a heavy slumber. You both dress in the morning hue, rinsing from a basin before you face another day. You leave the cloak on the assurance it will be waiting for you. A thought glimmers of what the king might think should it go missing. Would he blame you?
You emerge and part from your nocturnal companion. You procede to the queen’s chambers to find them open and the corridor a titter. A pair of servants, themselves dozy, carry one of her chests through as her shrill cry careens through. You approach as the steadfast guard with the fiery hair watches you with narrow eyes.
You peer within and find the Queen Jazlene digging through the contents, tossing fabrics without a care, in a desperate search. You are stunned to find her awake with the sunrise but not disheartened. It might be a good omen.
"Where is it?" She throws her hands up and scowls as her eyes skim around, "you," she points in your direction, "where is my blue dress? The one with the silver lace? It must be here!"
"Your highness, perhaps another chest," you step inside.
"You did remember to pack it, didn't you?" She accuses as she stands, "I did bid it."
"Yes, your highness," you affirm, though it was Merinda who would've taken the order. "Shall I go look in the luggage?"
"Oh, yes, you shall," she struts toward you, "I will not be dressed as some northern wench for the banquet."
Banquet? You withhold your curiosity and bow your head. You have a task and it is always better to tend to it without question.
You spin and hurry from the room. You nearly collide with another servant, a tray in their hands. Another chore you needn't attend. You press on and find your way through the kitchens to the rear of the castle.
The luggage remains mostly in the stables which entails a venture into the wintry without. You mourn the cloak upon the foot of the bed but it would be worse to flaunt the king's patch so heedlessly. You tuck your hands into your sleeves and put your chin down before you push through, the door resisting your strength as the wind blows against it.
You stagger through and the heavy wood slams just as quickly as you clear its breadth. The gales are strong but the snow has relented. You see dark bodies speckled amid the white as powder dusts up in heaps. The servants work to clear away the thick piles and make pathways around the castle's yard.
You cross to the stables and delve into the stink of horses and hay. The beast nicker and neigh as you pass as others doze without notice. You find the luggage, chests still upon carts as others litter the unswept floor. If you find the dress, it might just reek of horse.
You recognise the crest of Debray upon a chest and the painted sides of a few others. You unstrap several lids and raise them, the cold nipping but sweat rising nonetheless. The longer you sift through the contents, the number your hands and fingers become, the clumsier you are.
A patch of blue, so pale and shiny it's almost white, gleams from beneath the heaps of cloth. You yank upon it, bringing out several other gowns with the effort, and claim victory. You do not neglect to suss out a pair of slippers and a hair net you think might go with it. You set it aside and pack away the mess you've made, breathless from the expense.
You hug your lot and curl around the next row of horses, searching out Daisy as she leans her head against Chestnut's dark neck. Their eyes widen at your approach and they huff almost in time. You pat their noses before you apologise that you must leave them.
Once more, the violent gusts greet you in the open, sending a spiral of snow around you and dusting you with the chill. Your teeth chatter as the wind pushes you from behind and fill your skirts. You can hardly aim your steps as you end up against the castle wall, sidling along until you're at the door.
Within, the cold follows and lingers in your bones. You flit through the kitchens, pots steam as the large ovens blaze and bodies cluster and clash. You barely avoid a collision as you pass into the corridor. As you step around one figure, another appears.
“Aye, there the mouse is,” Bryce greets as he folds a leaf around his finger, readying it to pop in his mouth, “I see she’s got you at work already.”
“Sir,” you stop before the soldier, “how was your night?”
“Eh, dark,” he shrugs, “and you? The other maid saw to ya?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very good. If ye can, stay close to that one at the feast,” he girds, “she’s wise. She knows well how to bide the shadows.”
You nod and hug the fabric, another shiver flowing through you. He tilts his head as he continues to play with the leaf between his fingers.
“Don’t tell me you were outside without a cloak,” he accuses, “where’s yours, then?”
“Sir, it was only for a moment--”
“This cold does not soften for summer maids,” he tuts and shakes his head, “you will make yerself sick and who should have to deal with it, hm? Who should have to hear the king rant of it?”
“Apologies, I was only in a rush,” you pout.
“Don’t be sorry,” he steps closer and touches the dress in your arms, “in a rush for flimsy gown. These halls are too cold for satin.”
“The queen bids it--”
“Oh, I would expect,” he chortles.
You purse your lips, slanting them one way then the next, as you recall your task. You watch him pinch the silk before he rescinds his reach. He puts the leaf in his mouth and chews.
“You said feast and the queen said banquet? Is that this evening?” You wonder.
“Certainly, is,” he sucks on the sweet leaves, “Lord Vesemir would celebrate our departure most fervently but as any good winter lord, he would not send his guests out in the cold without full bellies.”
“Oh,” you utter thoughtfully.
“And I suppose, it will appease the queen,” he adds, “for a time before she is once more miserable in the wildlands.”
“And we are to leave on the morrow?”
“Aye, by the nightfall,” he crosses his arms. “They must clear the pass and ready the horses and carts. It will be a labour but best we move on.”
“I believe so too, sir,” you teethe your lip.
“Aye, you are prudent, as ever,” he lowers his gaze to the floor, “mouse.”
You shift on your soles and exhale solemnly, “I must...”
“Yes, very well, go on to your queen,” he steps aside, “I must find our king. I suspect he might be hounding the lord of this castle, if not sparring with him.”
There is a reluctance between you as you carry on your way; Bryce to one wing and you to the other, as if to mark the divide of king and queen. You come up the stairs and hurry along, the queen’s doors still ajar. Her voice carries still and servant scuttles out as a plate is hurled after them, crashing onto the floor as it narrowly avoids their foot.
You slow and cautiously peek into the room. The queen shakes her head and pinches a morsel of brown meat on her plate, eyeing it with scrutiny. For a moment, her face twists, then she forces herself to shove it in her mouth. She chews as a battle rages across her features.
Her gaze is drawn by your movement and she gulps down her mouthful. She stands, nearly overturning the stool upon which the tray rests. She brings her hands up as she storms over to snatch your armful. You back away as she lets the dress unfurl and you bend to gather up the slippers and hairnet as they fall.
“Ah, wonderful, a proper attire for my first proper appearance as queen,” she beams and dances around with the dress, “oh, my hair, my hair. You must braid it for me.”
She lays the gown on the bed and gives it a longing touch before she retreats. She clammers to the plain wooden table upon which she’s had a looking glass propped up. She leans forward as you stand behind her. Her hair remains in the braids she’s worn for some time, looking wilted and ratty from neglect.
“Yes, your highness.”
“I suppose the king feels horrid for his display yesterday,” she preens at herself. “He must realise he cannot keep a lady like me cooped up.”
You think to mention that it is more send-off than anything. That is on Lord Vesemir’s whim, rather than King Geralt’s. At least that’s how you have it. Yet, you know well not to argue. Let Jazlene believe as she well and the world is always a bit more pleasant.
You set to undoing her hair, gently as you notice how dry it is, whether from the cold or the air. She snaps her fingers and demands another servant bring her the tray off food. She picks at it as you unwind her hair and let it free.
She looks at herself one way then the other. She smiles and wipes her mouth with her sleeve.
“I am still pretty, aren’t I?” She asks, “I will be after the child comes, won’t I?”
You swallow and nod, “yes, your highness.”
“Gilles, Gilles,” she chimes and waves a hand, “come, come,” she turns in her seat and you pull away from her, not wanting to tug on her locks. “Tell me, how pretty am I?”
The man steps into the doorway and clears his throat. He looks as sheepish as you’ve ever seen. You glance back at Jazlene as she poses and bats her lashes.
“You are beautiful, my queen, as the summer sunsets,” he avows.
There’s a click in your head, a wriggle in your chest, and a churning in your stomach. No. No, it can’t be. She wouldn’t betray her marriage.
Yet you thought the very same of her husband. That’s different. The king rules all, even the queen. And that she so garishly flaunts her fleeting affections. But how can you judge, when your own folly looms over you like a cloud?
You think of the king’s story; Cerrill and Wynifred and their forbidden romance. It tints in a different effect now, it aligns more evenly, for you do not see this ending well for either queen or guard should they stray. Just as you don’t see yourself faring any better.
#geralt of rivia#dark geralt#dark!geralt#geralt of rivia x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#au#medieval au#winter's king#the witcher
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coming out to + confessing to belobog men. ⋆⋅♡⋅⋆
note: wanted to try my hand at writing more cute stuff <3 also there are like ZERO posts in the luka x male reader tag my baby deserves more. happy pride my beloved readers!!! i wrote this like 6 months ago and coincidentally just picked it back up in time for june! i don't even play hsr anymore... crying emoji
content: male reader, fluff. luka, sampo, gepard
sampo (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
would 100% know before you even told him
"hey, [name]! heard you got something to tell me, don't worry, your good pal sampo's all ears."
"sampo... uh.....i like... guys...."
"oh, is that it? i thought it was obvious..."
"HUH????"
"i meant- thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. your secret's safe with me, hehe." placing his hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture, he promises sincerely. despite his initial reaction, he really is touched. not many people trust him, so your willingness to share something so personal made him feel special.
"oh, and one more thing....."
"what is it? you got a secret boyfriend you didn't tell me about?" he asks teasingly, not expecting the bomb you're about to drop on him.
"...i like you."
his eyes go wide. "now that's a surprise."
even though he'd scam people without a second thought, some calling him cruel, he can't bring himself to be indifferent to you. here you were, pouring your heart out, with such a nervous expression on your face, how could he maintain his usual sly demeanour? in all seriousness, he knows he's a bit scummy, so he would be a bit hesitant about getting into a relationship for your sake. he's always running about, chased by the authorities, he doesn't want you to be involved into all that. but if you're willing to accept him and his slippery ways, he'll be sure to put an equal amount of effort. he hates owing favours, after all.
"oh, how could i refuse such a an enticing offer? of course i'll be your boyfriend, [name]." he can't help the grin that appears on his face at your expression, simultaneously shocked and overjoyed. "seriously, you're too precious.... c'mon, let's go on a date!" throwing an arm around you, he squeezes your shoulder excitedly.
"wha- like right now?? and you accepted my confession just like that???" you're at loss of words as he drags you along to who knows where.
"what are you waiting for? let's go, pal! wait- should i call you pal now that we're dating? how about buddy? hmm... still too friendly. how do you feel about sweetheart?"
જ⁀➴
every time he appears at your door, giving you a sheepish grin as he explains how he needs to lay low for a bit, it always comes with a kiss, or several, along with a heart-shaped box of your favourite chocolates. he might go missing for a few days at a time on "business" (probably some illegal trading), but he always makes sure to update you on his whereabouts so you don't worry, sending a bunch of heart pom-pom stickers to let you know he misses you. if anyone were to ever make some snide comments about your sexuality, his first instinct would be to drop every job he's doing and comfort you, followed by using his various contacts to deal with that person swiftly. natasha and seele can't believe he actually got someone to like him, much less get into a serious relationship, but nevertheless, they make sure to look out for you to ensure he doesn't break your heart. he vows not to ever hurt you though, it's the last thing he'd ever want. his promises are often fickle with his clients, but with you, they're always sincere.
luka (૭ ｡•̀ ᵕ •́｡ )૭
would definitely being overenthusiastic about being an ally
"[name], hey! you wanted to tell me something? i hope it's about training with me...."
"sorry, luka, it's not about that.... i.... i just wanted to let you know that i'm gay."
"oh! like seele and bronya!"
"i mean- i guess....?" your nervousness was immediately replaced by a comical surprise at his response, you had to suppress your laughter. he was so genuine, it was endearing.
"don't worry! if any thugs give you shit for it, just tell me. i'll deal with them right away... i've been itching for a fight anyway." he immediately gets into a fighting stance, throwing a few punches in the air to get his point across. he ended his little show with a wink, causing your stomach to fill with butterflies. you decided to tell him then and there.
"and uh, luka. i like you."
"aw, thanks! i like you too. you're a great friend, [name]."
"like, in the romantic way..."
"that works too! that way, i can protect you easier." without missing a beat, he flashes you a grin and a thumbs up, seemingly unfazed by your sudden confession. but the slight dust of red on his cheeks let you know your words did have an effect.
"wait... you know this means we'll be boyfriends?" your head's reeling at how easily he accepted your feelings. did this man really not think about anything but training and beating up thugs??? not that you were complaining, his drive was one of his charming points, but still.
"yeah, i don't mind. with someone like you by my side, i'm sure i could take on any enemy. thank you for giving me this opportunity."
જ⁀➴
even though he puts on a strong front, secretly, he's deathly afraid of becoming a burden, especially to you. one of his favourite pastimes is training and working out with you, or he'd be content for you to just watch him train and cheer for him as well. as long as he has the reassurance that you know he's getting stronger, allowing him to shield you from the dangers of the underworld. if he ever gets injured, a simple persuasion won't work, you'll have to physically hold him in place so that you can treat his cuts and bruises - no matter how much he protests and insists he's fine, he does appreciate it. a lot. he enjoys the little things, the way you run your fingers along the cool metal of his arm as you ramble about your day, or the enthusiastic whoop you give every time he knocks an opponent out at the fight club, or the scent of the freshly cleaned towel you bring him to dry his sweat. you help him realise that there's time to relax, his self-imposed training schedule being so intense and demanding. getting him to not be so hard on himself would be a treat. if you ever get derogatory comments about your sexuality... trust, he'll personally teach them a lesson, and ask natasha not to treat them once he's done. after all, you give him another reason to continue training to be the strongest. he has to be there for you.
gepard ( •̀ - •́ )
dense cutie... wouldn't get your hints until you told him explicitly
"my apologies for being late, [name]... you had something you wanted to tell me?"
"no problem, gepard... i just wanted to tell you that-" taking a deep breath, you prepare youself for his reaction. "-i like guys."
"oh? me too, i'm quite fond of the guards under my care."
"i mean that i'm gay..."
"oh, that's what you meant. are you telling me this because you've faced some form of discrimination lately? don't worry, belobog has strict laws in place to prevent-"
"no, gepard- i'm telling this because i like you..."
"oh."
જ⁀➴
congratulations, you've courted the sweetest man in all of belobog! initially, he was slightly worried that your newfound relationship would interfere with his duties as protector of the people, but much to his surprise, making time for you is easy. or more so, it's because you always make the effort to stop by whenever he's out patrolling, so you end up spending a lot of time together anyway. his face might get red when you blow him a kiss behind the rest of the silvermane guards' backs, but he always makes sure to let you know how much he appreciates your guidance. he's a little self-conscious about his lack of romantic experience, so be gentle with him! don't tease him too much. while he is fully devoted to his duty, he's not above slipping away for a few minutes when you text him to meet in a back alley, to gift him some flowers you may or may not have stolen from belobog's florist. the next day, he would return the favour by holding out a bunch of your favourite flowers, home grown (an attempt was made) in his very own garden. hey, even if they're slightly wilted, it's the thought that counts, right? don't look at him with that affectionate gaze! he's embarrassed. it would be quite funny if you had criminal tendencies, gepard would be absolutely torn between lecturing you and turning a blind eye simply because his lovely boyfriend had made lunch for him earlier in the day. especially if you're friends with sampo, the little shit would threaten to snitch to you everytime gepard almost catches him. or.... perhaps.... he let you off the hook because of that one time you pinned him against some alley wall (when he was supposed to be patrolling! blasphemous.) and kissed him so hard his legs gave out. you've become one of his weaknesses, but he doesn't mind it. at all.
pic credits to dailysampo, dailygepard and dailylukaa on twt!
#honkai star rail x male reader#hsr x male reader#male reader#sampo x male reader#luka x male reader#gepard x male reader#sampo x reader#luka x reader#gepard x reader#honkai star rail x reader
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the road not taken 03 | myg
part three: four seconds
Summary: If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, but why it seemed like he was following everywhere you went?
<part two
—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress oc
—rating: +18
—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)
—warnings/tags: slow burn,angst, fluff, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! Btw english is not my first language !!
—words: 11k
—a/note: HERE IS ITTTTTTTTTTT!!! I'm sosososos sorry for taking so long, but it is finally here!! I swear I would try and update monthly from now on, but enjoy this for now!! It has a lot of backstory so I hope you enjoy it. btw these last months I've been going to a poetry workshop so I was on fire writing this (ok maybe not since I took so long to finish it lmao). As always feedback is always welcomed, and if you want to discuss this part in the asks you're welcomed as well!! ilyyyy
series masterlist | teaser | playlist
Present
When Yoongi turned thirteen, your mother promised to bake a Batman cake as a gift for his birthday party. You had a clear memory of sitting at the counter the day before the party as she decorated the cake with yellow icing that tasted like just like bananas, and the next day when Yoongi gave you the first piece of cake you remembered thinking it was the best thing you ever tasted. A few years ago, when Yoongi turned twenty three, you asked him if he remembered the taste of that cake, and, as he smoked what he swore it would be the last cigarette of his life, he said that he did not. At that time you asked him how it was possible that he didn’t remember the taste of some cake your mom made ten years ago, how was it possible that information of such importance had gone unnoticed? Looking back, you could say that it was not Yoongi’s fault, maybe you were the only one holding onto memories and he was as forgetful as everyone else. After all, Yoongi forgot he promised he would quit smoking that very same night, he would smoke his last cigarette only a year later, but even to this day you couldn’t forget the taste of that cake.
You were just beginning to realize you were condemned to be one of those people who just remembered. Like your aunt, who knew all the birthdays and all the deathdays, all your cousins’ first words, including yours, and was often caught reminiscing every detail of the day she met her husband thirty springs ago. Maybe it was in the family, and it was only a matter of time until you started speaking memories instead of words, so you tried to stop it, but they lived in your mind regardless if you decided to stop mentioning them out loud or not.
Like the perfume of your granddad that he only wore on Christmas, or the way blood and tears tasted the day you broke your teeth when you were eight and tried to play basketball with Yoongi and Simon but tripped. You sobbed like a baby, but Yoongi hugged you so tight that you forgot you were going to be toothless for the following month.
You collected the memories, the words, the smell and the taste, you held them close to your heart, stuck in your chest with a stake, forced to remember everything while everyone around you just forgot. And you didn’t complain, you couldn’t, why would you? Life was like that, happening in front of you as you stood in front of the body length mirror in your mother’s room, as you closed your eyes and tried to remember the yellow icing in Yoongi’s birthday cake, it happened in front of you as you tried to avoid it. You knew you had to stop lingering in the past when all those details, all those colors, and all those memories began to turn against you. Like every January, when your mind reminded you that your body was still stuck in the freezing cold of the morning you decided to leave home four years ago.
That morning, when you decided to go see Yoongi five days into the new year because he had barely texted you since the last day you saw him, January 2nd, when he received the news from his aunt that his mother had an accident during their trip. You walked to his apartment instead of driving because you didn’t think it was that cold, but you were immediately proven wrong when your hands started to get frozen and your feet began to hurt as you walked in the snow, but that didn’t stop you. He said he was going to be home for a second to grab some stuff and then come back to the hospital, where his mom was, so you were expecting the look of surprise on his face when he saw you at the door, what you weren’t expecting was the way he was hesitating to let you in. You remembered the things he did and the things he said that day like they were engraved in your memory, but mostly the way he was looking at you, like he wanted to run away, from you? from his life? You still didn’t know, all you knew is that after that you had no other option than to turn around and walk away.
When you thought about it for too long you could still feel the way the snow lingered all the way home in your clothes and hair, how it stayed on the sole of your shoes for the following years, how your tears froze in your cheeks because you refused to wipe them away. Sometimes you woke up in the middle of the night and could still feel the snow running down your back, making you wonder if winter was still chasing you.
Inside your body it had been winter for so long that your heart seemed to be completely frozen ever since you left home, only now that you were back you realized that perhaps autumn was not warm enough to heal your heart.
That was not the last time you saw Yoongi, but you believed it was the last time you decided to talk to him, the last time you allowed yourself to even lay eyes on him.
You wished you could find peace for at least a moment, but it seemed that you had to work hard for it, it was getting tiring to remember that you were the one who caused the chaos that was your life, and now you were the one who had to fix it: your mother, your brother, Ian and Sally, and even your public image. Doing the last button of your white shirt you asked the universe: why couldn’t those be all your problems? You swore to the man in the sky that if he sent you all your problems in the form of a giant monster you were willing to fight it, only if he could stop you from seeing Yoongi tonight.
Perhaps you should stay in your mom’s room tonight, not attending dinner was okay, your mom made that clear, but at the same time you were twenty five years old now, you couldn’t keep acting like an angry teenager who decided to skip dinner. You knew that it wasn’t going to make things better, but at least seeing your brother was going to make you feel normal, and that was the only reason you decided to set foot outside the room when you heard the bell ring.
Four years ago.
Two weeks before New Year’s Eve.
You should’ve known that it would be useless to stop thinking about what happened a week ago the minute you woke up in the same bed as Yoongi, but you still tried. You tried, and tried, and tried in countless ways, like for example, when you tried to watch a whole season of The Office in one sitting, or when you listened your mom rant about some turkish drama she was watching, or when Minnie texted a few days ago and you let her talk about that job she mentioned that night until you fell asleep. And then, you agreed to meet her for a coffee and she talked non stop about the same open audition four hours away in the city.
You were not sure if she was beginning to convince you or you were just desperately trying to stop thinking about Yoongi, you thought the only logical explanation for both theories was that you were about to go crazy.
But if you were being honest to yourself, you couldn’t help but be interested in it. Minnie pitched the job like a gothic dramatic love story, which sounded just like something you would love. She also said it wasn’t a super big play, but it wasn’t small either, and it was pretty well paid. Minnie mentioned she knew the producers and the director and could put on a good word for you.
“Why don’t you do it, then?” You had asked her, not being sure if you would do the same thing for someone who didn’t talk to you in years. “And why me?”
“Oh, well, I don’t know if it’s my style and… I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave home yet.” She replied with a nostalgic tone in her voice. “And why not you? I don’t know anyone who can pull it off, and you appeared in front of my eyes. Must be a sign.”
You couldn’t understand the first thing, how adamant she was to stay here, as much as you tried to see the world through her eyes, you couldn’t, a few years ago you took the first chance to get out of here and didn’t look back. But sitting there, at the small table next to the window, it wasn’t difficult to tell which one of you two looked more happy (hint: it wasn’t you). Minnie was different, she was still working at The Alley, she loved it there and wasn’t willing to let it go yet.
The second thing, you couldn’t understand either, but it made sense for her to do it. Being kind was natural for Minnie, she didn’t hold grudges, and you weren’t sure if you deserved that kindness. She waved away all your concerns, your whens and whys and hows, she kept repeating the same words; “it must be a sign”, “it’s clearly meant to be”, and you just laughed and tried to not to think about Yoongi. And it worked for a while, because on the way home you allowed yourself to fantasize about it for at least ten minutes. Moving to the city and working there for weeks and weeks and maybe months or years, and not having to pretend you were someone else. But the minute you entered your house you were reminded of what you were trying to forget.
The memory kept sneaking in your mind, just like Yoongi sneaked in your bed that night. The image of his hooded eyes, his pink lips and the reminder that nothing really happened kept wandering inside your head.
That night you entered the house giggling like babies and when both of you were changed and ready to sleep you got under the covers, not thinking whether it was right or wrong. And yes, your bed was big enough for you and him, but your arms and legs still slightly touched during the whole night, and when you woke up your feet where tangled with each other, leaving you wondering if you were stupid for thinking something had changed between the two of you, or maybe the way he looked at you when he opened his eyes was just your twisted imagination.
Yes, you were probably crazy when you thought he was looking at you differently when you made him breakfast, like you promised. You were crazy for thinking it felt like you were in a different universe when you sat in the kitchen island the whole morning and then found Nightmare Before Christmas on tv and discussed if it was a Christmas or a Hallowen movie on the couch.
And then, of course, he left, bringing you back to reality. But then during the week he came back, and then left again, and came back again. You knew you had to kick him out, you knew it was for the best to make up an excuse and say you were busy, but this time he promised to get your car repaired, so you let him take you to his uncle’s garage.
Yoongi’s uncle was nowhere to be found today, but Namjoon, Yoongi’s friend, was in charge, although he wasn’t very happy with people being loud while he was working. By the time Namjoon established he didn’t want any of you there at the garage, you had already decided you were staying.
You knew Namjoon ever since he started working with Yoongi’s uncle, he was a tall and big guy with a shy smile, he wore glasses and read books, he was funny and smart and you knew that he had more more than one girl waiting for him to text them back, and for some reason, despite being really handsome, and really cute, and really tall… he was still single. Not that you cared, of course, you were interested in… other people…You still allowed yourself to admire him, like when you watched that Turkish drama with your mom because you were trying not to think of Yoongi and the lead actor helped a lot with it.
Now you were there, sitting on top of some dirty table next to a bunch of tools you couldn’t name, trying to keep silent when Namjoon scolded you again.
Yoongi was very good at ignoring him, he pretended he didn’t listen to his friend as he leaned towards you, talking really close to your ear. “Should I give your grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, half joking, half serious. “You know, so she’s in a good mood.”
You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “A bottle of klonopin, maybe.” You said, making Namjoon scoff loudly.
He turned around, now interested in the conversation, looking at you both. “Why do you want to give her grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, confused. One of the reasons why Namjoon didn’t like people talking while he was working was because he was easily distracted, when he was interested in the topic he didn’t seem too annoyed.
Yoongi turned around to face him, deciding his friend was there all of a sudden. “I’m spending Christmas with her family next week.” He explained, being kind enough to forget that Namjoon explicitly told him to shut the fuck up about twenty minutes ago. “But she’s a bit moody.”
That was one way to describe your grandmother, the other one was to say she was a complete witch.
“Yeah, Yoongi invited himself.” You teased him, instantly feeling one of his fingers digging into your rib, making you jump.
Namjoon quietly observed the scene like something he wasn’t supposed to watch, with his mouth hung open ready to say something, but his mind was still searching for words. You suspected that Yoongi’s answer left him with more doubts that he had to begin with.
“Really?” He managed to say, curious. “I didn’t know you two were… like that.” Namjoon cautiously started the sentence, but didn’t dare to finish it in case he was wrong, although the scene you were making was clearly making him believe he was right.
You jumped in your seat, opening your eyes widely as you understood what he was implying. “Oh, no.” You rushed to say, waving your hands in the air.
“No, not like that.” Yoongi talked at the same time as you, crossing looks as if you were reassuring each other of it. His eyes were as open as yours, shaking his head trying to deny the accusation. “My mom is not here until the first week of January.” He explained, making Namjoon nod, still confused at your nervous reactions. “So I’m alone at Christmas.”
Yoongi looked at you, giving a look that meant “it makes sense, right?” and yes, of course it made sense. You and Yoongi had spent Christmas together before, he knew your whole family since he was a kid, he grew up with Simon, he was family too, it made sense, but Namjoon’s implication made both of you jump in your seats, talking over each other as you laughed nervously.
“So all of you three are spending Christmas together?” Namjoon continued to ask, trying to understand the conversation again. “You two and Simon?”
There was a beat of silence in the room, but you were quick to answer. “Simon is spending Christmas with his girlfriend, so we're on our own.”
Namjoon nodded again, trying not to think too much about it. “So Simon is okay with you keeping all his gifts?” He tried to joke, but the answer only sounded worse.
You looked at Yoongi, but he was looking at his shoes, avoiding Namjoon’s eyes. Neither of you bothered to mention to Simon that you were spending Christmas together, was it really necessary? Why was Namjoon making it sound like it was necessary for him to know? Why did you feel the need to explain to him that it wasn’t weird at all that you were spending Christmas together alone? You weren’t alone after all, there was your mom, and your grandmother, your aunt and some of your cousins too, I mean, you’ll have to share the room, of course, but- wait… You had to share the room. You forgot about that.
Oh my God… Simon couldn’t find out about that.
You were quick to suppress the thought, agreeing with yourself to handle that matter later, but right now Namjoon was looking at you like he expected an answer. You quickly realized that Namjoon was just as noisy as you.
“Oh, he doesn’t need to know.” You said, brushing it off, but your mind was already in chaos.
Present
You were never really interested in astrology, you tried to get into it a few years ago only to understand what Minnie was saying since she talked about it most of the time, but you ended up being too skeptical to believe in anything. You didn’t believe in God, or in astrology and you weren’t even sure if you could call yourself an atheist completely, but you were still curious. Early in life you realized you were agnostic, (you were aware that you sounded like a pretentious man on a first date when you said it out loud), but you still asked every person you met their star signs in case they matched with their personalities, as if you were still trying to prove yourself wrong.
You didn’t know if the universe was right or wrong, but if you were sure about something, it was that Simon was a Leo. Not only because he was born on the first of August, but because he fitted in every category of a Leo. He was charming and confident, outgoing, he was a natural leader and people always felt drawn to him, making him a little bit… self centered.
Like every other Leo, Simon loved his birthday, that was the only reason why you were thinking about it. Two months ago, the first of August, you called him on his birthday like every sister calls her brother on his birthday. You could’ve just sent a message like the past year, but your life was already beginning to feel suffocating. Talking to Simon seemed to ease your heart for a while. He wanted to talk to you about his job at the firm and his girlfriend, the cat they adopted, how they were planning to move to a bigger apartment the following year and asked when you thought it was a great time to propose. You needed to feel like something was in place, like your relationship with Simon was normal, like he could tell you anything and you could listen and just laugh. It worked for the first ten minutes, until he inevitably brought up the topic of his birthday party, and he inevitably invited you, and you inevitably had to say no.
You missed Simon, you missed your mom, you missed your bed and your home, but you weren’t ready to come back, you weren’t ready to see the thousand faces you left behind, you were still hesitant to come back. Now you were there, tense at the end of the stairs because the disappointed tone on his voice lingered in your mind to this day.
Some voice in your head was telling you that it was what adults do, take responsibility for their actions, seeing people even if you preferred not to see them because that was what grown ups do. You were supposed to be an adult of twenty five years old, even if you felt like you never grew out of that bitter phase only teenagers go through, you were still an adult, so why did you feel like a kid at the end of the stairs, waiting for Simon to lay eyes on you?
Your mom hugged him tightly like she hadn’t seen him in months, and when he pulled away from her grip he noticed you, coming down the stairs as you realized that he, like your mom, wasn’t expecting to see you today.
Simon frowned, surprised, but just a second later a smile took over his face “Hey, you.” He said, opening his wide arms, offering you a hug. “What are you doing here?”
You took a deep breath, almost turning around to check if he was talking to another person behind you, but no, he was talking to you. He grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer to hug you the same way your mom was hugging him a moment ago. “Is this not my house?” You murmured against the fabric of his blue sweater, feeling your heart hammering against your ribcage as you tried to make a joke.
“Of course it is.” He just said, leaving a kiss on your hair.
Four years ago.
Two weeks before New Year’s Eve.
If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, because your mind was not helping at all.
After leaving his uncle’s garage you should’ve gone home to start thinking a way of telling Yoongi that he couldn’t sleep in the same bedroom as you on Christmas, you needed to think of an excuse for why he should sleep in your grandma’s one thousand year old couch instead of Simon’s empty bed, which was casually right next to yours.
The following step should be to watch some romcom with Heath Ledger and try to forget the way Yoongi rolled up his sleeves when he was pretending to help Namjoon with your car, or at least the way you stared like an idiot for a good moment before snapping out of it.
He should’ve gone home too, he had no business walking in the same direction as you if his apartment was towards the other end of the street. It didn’t take you long to realize he was following you “for some coffee, since we’re cold”, as he said, already assuming that you didn’t have any plans (he wasn’t wrong).
You didn’t want to chase him away, you were still working on that thing of not being a bitch, and while there was a rational part of you that knew that you were better off not seeing Yoongi, there also was a part of you who couldn’t get enough of him. A better explanation was that you might be a masochist.
The garage wasn’t far from home, but you were walking fast as if you were trying to lose him in the way.
“Is Namjoon still single?” You wondered out loud, trying to redirect your thoughts somewhere far away from him. At least for now it didn’t seem that difficult, you remembered the sweet smile of Yoongi’s friend and the way he lifted his glasses with his finger up to the bridge of his nose. Was he really shy or was he just faking it so girls thought he was cute? Either way, it was working.
“What?” Yoongi raised his voice, frowning at you.
You frowned back at him “I asked if Namjoon is still single.” You repeated, but you were sure he heard it right. “How come he’s still single?”
The wind hit your face, so you made yourself small in your jacket, scanning the street for any cars before crossing in the middle of the street. Yoongi followed you without hesitation, running to the other side of the street before you left him behind.
“Why…?” He yelled, trying to catch up with you, but when he was next to you he lowered his voice “Why do you care?”
The question sounded strange coming out of his lips, but you ignored his tone, turning your head. “I’m curious.” You just said, but he still couldn't shake the strange look on his face. “What?” You pushed his shoulder “Don’t look at me that way.”
“I’m not looking at you in any way.” He defended himself.
He was clearly looking at you in some way, you just didn’t know which. You winced, trying to brush it off “I’m just asking…” You murmured “He’s really cute, don’t you think? He works at the garage, he wears glasses, he’s got cute dimples. How is he still single?”
“It seems like you gave him a good look.” He mumbled under his breath, taking his eyes off you.
“I’m just a very observant girl.” You argued. “C’mon, you didn’t think about it? I’ve never seen Namjoon with a girl…” You kept wondering, staying silent as Yoongi, for some reason, refused to keep this conversation going. You still didn’t know how Simon and Yoongi were such good friends, Simon always knew everything about everyone, how was it possible that Yoongi refused to even discuss the reason for Namjoon's long singleness? Or maybe Yoongi was keeping the reason as a secret, maybe it was something no one was supposed to know. Suddenly, you connected two and two together, interpreting Yoongi’s reluctance in the most logical way. You gasped “Oh! Or is he…?”
Yoongi rolled his eyes, making a sound of annoyance when he realized you were still talking about the same thing. “No, he’s not gay, Pinky.” He sighed “He’s just not into dating.”
You turned the corner of the street, making Yoongi follow you. “Like my brother?” You asked, remember how everyone said the same thing about Simon.
He snorted “No, not like your brother.” He said “Simon was a mess… Namjoon is just a shy guy.”
You arched an eyebrow. That was the lamest excuse ever, it wasn’t enough explanation for you. Maybe Yoongi was right and Namjoon was just-a-shy-guy, or maybe Yoongi didn’t know the real reason why he has been single for years because men never communicate their feelings with each other, maybe Namjoon was dating his first love for years until she broke her heart, making him never want to date again, or maybe…
“Stop.” He said, interrupting your train of thought. Now it was his turn to push your shoulder “Don’t even think about it.”
He gave you a warning look, which made you confused for a moment… Wait, what was he thinking? Did Yoongi confuse your nosiness for something else? Did something that you said made him think your intentions were different? … Was he really thinking you were interested in Namjoon?
You pursed your lips, trying to contain your laugh. You could explain to Yoongi that he misunderstood you and deny every accusation, but something inside you told you that the current scenario was more fun.
“I’m not thinking about anything.” You said, faking innocence, and even if you really weren't he looked at you like he didn’t believe you.
“Yeah, right.” He huffed “Didn’t sound like that.”
“Really? How did it sound, then?” You teased him “Enlighten me.”
Yoongi did not say another word after that, refusing to follow your game. You've known him for longer than you could remember —literally, he said he remembered meeting you when he was four and Simon invited him into the house so he could meet his new baby sister, but you had no recall of it—, even so, you had no memory of him ever being mad at you, not even slightly annoyed, so you were a bit confused when his expression remained serious for the rest of the walk home. Was it so bad to show interest in Namjoon?
“Don’t even think about it.” What did that even mean?
Present
You were trying to avoid the memory of Ian’s proposal for weeks now. It was painted in your mind, the excited look on his face, his mom’s ring on his hand, the flowers, the cool white lights, the ringing in your ears that warned you something was wrong. You remembered wondering if he knew that you read all those texts he sent to other women, if he knew how ridiculous everything looked. It still made you cringe when you accidently thought about it. Did he really think you were the same as him?… Weren’t you different?
Despite being the most embarrassing moment of your life to date, you weren’t trying to hide it, you were planning to tell your family about it when the time was right. Like tonight, for example. You thought you could talk to them about it, that you could have time to explain everything, to apologize for not saying anything, maybe for a couple other things too… But your plan was ruined the moment your mom told you she had planned a dinner in your absence on the same day you arrived.
Now Simon was looking at you like you were thirteen and you got your heart broken for the first time. He rested his elbows on the table you and him just set, sighing. You were aware that the rest of the guests were on their way, but you tried to ignore it. It wasn’t that difficult since Simon’s thoughts were echoing in the room, making you shift in your seat. Of course Simon already knew about it, you were sure he already read it in some tabloid before you got the chance to tell him first.
“Stop doing that.” You said, breaking the silence. He didn’t seem surprised, but still narrowed his eyes, trying to play dumb.
“Doing what?”
You weren’t sure what he was doing exactly, maybe you were just imagining the way he was looking at you: with pity, but it was annoying you, and he knew that, perhaps it was the reaction he was expecting from you. He was laughing five minutes ago, making fun of you when he saw you trip on the step of the entrance to the kitchen like nothing changed between the two of you, but now he was sitting in silence as if he was preparing you to ask you the question.
You wished Florence, Simon’s girlfriend, were here. She would fill the uncomfortable silences with gossip about the neighbors and ignore the elephant in the room. She was away visiting her family, so instead you were there with him as he tried to play the big brother role, but failed terribly.
“Are you going to ask me about it?” You asked, not hesitating.
Simon let your question linger in the air, pretending you didn’t just read his mind. There were only a few people you could say you knew like the palm of your hand, one of them was your brother. Even if you spent years separated, you’ve always been as thick as thieves, you still saw right through Simon, and the only problem with that was that he saw right through you as well.
“Are you going to tell the truth?” He calmly asked, enjoying the look on your face when he heard you gasp, offended.
It hurt to know how implicit it was that you hadn’t been honest these past years, it was easy to catch you off guard. While you were out in the world, away from your family, Simon stayed here and visited your mom every sunday and tried to ignore the fact that you didn’t answer any of their messages that week, saying that you were busy working when you really were trying to avoid invitations for the next weekend. It was obvious that Simon was the one that spent more time with your mom, you thought about that the second he used the same tone as her when she was scolding you.
You crossed your arms over your chest, frowning “Maybe, I can think about it.” You said in the same tone as him. Simon just scoffed, shaking his head.
“Fine. That was too much to ask for, I guess.” He snarked, mocking you “I have a simpler question… are you okay?”
Despite his attempt to appear casual and keep bickering, his concern was evident. That question could have felt like a caress to the soul, a sigh of relief, the feeling of home, but instead it felt like Simon had punched you in the stomach, leaving you without air. How easy it was to fight with Simon, how easy would’ve been for you if he didn’t hug you when he saw you thirty minutes ago. It would’ve been less difficult than witnessing his blue eyes showing you mercy. It was clear that he cared for you, but you weren't sure if you deserved it, not from him of all people.
“Simon…” You murmured, shaking your head. It was an easy question, but difficult to answer knowing this wasn’t the right moment, this wasn’t how you planned things.
“What?” He questioned, reading your mind “I’m not asking you just because I have to, I’m not waiting for you to lie to me and tell me that you’re alright so I can forget about it, I care.”
“I know you care.” You breathed out “It’s just…” You sighed, vacillating “Listen… I haven’t- I’m not okay, really… But I can manage. I just feel like this is not the right moment to talk about it.” You looked at the entrance of the door and his sorry eyes followed, understanding what you meant. Simon nodded, but he didn’t stop looking at you like you were a wounded animal.
“That’s fine, I understand.” He murmured “That’s what I wanted to know. I was just wondering if you were going to be okay tonight.”
“I’ll be fine, as long as I don’t have to talk about myself. We’ll have time for that” You assured him.
“Are you sure?” He continued to question, doubting you.
You squinted your eyes “Yes, I'm sure, Simon.” You said, annoyed, even if you couldn’t blame him for not trusting your word. “I’m not planning to run away.”
“Not again?” He tried to joke, but you didn’t dare to laugh.
“I assure you, not again.” You rolled your eyes, hating that that was the image your brother had of you, hating to know that he was right. “You can stop looking at me like I’m a lost puppy now, I’m not a lost puppy.”
He scoffed “Are you not a lost puppy?” He asked “Where are you sleeping tonight?”
You frowned, offended “Here, of course… I mean, on the couch probably, but here.” You tried to defend yourself, but you immediately realized that your room was still a mess, and instead of cleaning a bit before dinner, you spent the whole afternoon sleeping.
His lips curved into a mocking smile, knowing that there wasn’t much difference between you and a lost puppy. “You can sleep at mine.” He offered.
“I wasn’t asking” You resisted, too proud to say yes right away.
“I know.” He said, and he shushed you to stop you from talking, pretending that it was the end of the discussion.
You shook your head, trying to reject those kind gestures you didn’t deserve. You opened your mouth, willing to keep arguing with your brother until you heard the bell ringing for the second time this evening, making you almost jump in your seat.
Your mom yelled from the kitchen, announcing that she was getting the door followed by the sound of her noisy shoes making their way to the door. It happened in a matter of seconds, you heard your mom rushing to the hall and opening the door, you heard muffled sounds, mixed voices, your mom greeting the guests while you waited on your chair as Simon turned his head over his shoulder, expectantly observing the entrance of the dining room.
Then, you heard steps approaching, laughter and chatter, but something else was happening in your head, something that was restricting you from hearing clearly —from thinking clearly—.
You fixed your eyes on the door, wishing no one appeared for as long as they could delay the arrival, but soon your field of vision was occupied by a short woman with curly hair and pearls in her ears. Nari, Yoongi’s mom, watched her step while she supported herself with a cane as she entered the room. Nari was just a few years older than your mom, but since the accident four years ago it has been difficult for her to walk without help, that’s why you and your brother both stood up at the same time to help her get to a seat faster.
The sound of both of your chairs being pushed back and your brother’s rushed steps filled the room. Simon was quicker than you, he approached Nari, smiling and saying hello as he grabbed one of her hands to help her find a seat.
You were not hearing anything clearly, but you were sure that Nari was complaining and telling Simon that she did not need any help, but he ignored her as he asked for her coat so he could hang it on the coat rack next to the door.
You felt clumsy, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do with yourself for the next four seconds. Four seconds that could’ve been four years, because when you lifted your gaze you realized you were standing face to face with Yoongi. An older Yoongi, a Yoongi you haven’t seen before, even if you didn’t remember when was the last time you dared to look him in the eyes, you were sure that back then he looked very different than tonight. His hair was longer, it was pushed back like he ran his finger through it, he was dressed like he just got home from work, a white dress shirt, slacks and a long black winter coat. He was dressed like an adult, a version of him that you never met and maybe never will. His gaze met yours the same way everything met you: by accident. He was not expecting to see you tonight, you knew that, now he was looking at you the same way you were looking at him, like he saw a ghost, maybe you were, maybe he was.
Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, and you had exactly one second to prepare for what he was about to say next, but you didn’t.
“Oh, Pinky.” Two words escaped his lips, tripping over each other as surprise and regret took over his features. He immediately realized he said something he wasn’t supposed to, but you still couldn’t hear clearly, you weren’t sure if you heard that right.
The nickname sent a chill down your spine, you couldn’t answer to it, and he knew it. It was like he said some forbidden word to make you freeze in your place. You couldn’t help but feel like the dumbest person on earth.
You had been thinking the whole afternoon about it, trying to think of ways of looking unbothered when Yoongi showed up tonight, but it took one stupid word for you to stop functioning normally. You wanted to say something, say hi to him and forget that he even dared to call you like that, but you refused to do it.
“Sweetheart! What are you doing here?” Suddenly, your ears were working again. Nari’s high pitched voice snapped you out of your trance, making you look away from her son’s face. It was like she didn’t notice your presence until Yoongi called you by that stupid nickname “I didn’t know you were coming!”
She attempted to stand up again, but you rushed to meet her so she wouldn’t move from her chair to let her pull you into a tight embrace. You took advantage of it, there were no more places to hide in this house, not your mom’s room or behind your brother, so you closed your eyes, hugging her back.
It was only then when you realized how much you missed being hugged like that, you remembered how much you missed such affection. Especially from her, who was always so loving to you, it was a shame that you couldn’t look her son in the eyes.
You shook those thoughts away, acting like his presence didn’t affect you. “I told my mom!” You explained “But she forgot, can you believe it?”
“She should've told me.” She said, pulling away to cup your face in her hands “I haven’t seen you in so long, angel, you look beautiful!”
“Not as much as you do, Nari, are you wearing makeup?” You tried to joke, making her giggle.
“No, darling, I don’t need that stuff.” She shook her head. “C’mon, sit next to me, we have to catch up!”
Four years ago
Seven days before New Year’s Eve.
There definitely was a logical reason why you and Yoongi were locked in the tiniest closet of your Grandma's enormous house.
The answer was somewhere in your mind, somewhere deep where your brain functioned just fine, somewhere where you weren’t trapped between Yoongi’s body and some shelf that was digging on your shoulder blade.
You were looking at each other in silence while you heard your name being called from downstairs. The palm of your hand was covering his mouth, preventing him from saying another word and his fist was clenched around your shirt to maintain his balance. You were trying to ignore how his knuckles were digging on the skin of your stomach, or how his chest was pressed against yours or the way his knee was digging in your inner thigh to keep you from crashing against the shelves full of cleaning products.
You looked at him through your eyelashes, quietly observing how his hair fell on his eyes like a curtain. You took a deep breath, thinking of the reason why you were there in the first place, which was… uhm… uh…
Oh yes! You were hiding. Yes, you were hiding from your grandmother, that was why.
This morning Yoongi showed up at your house to pick you and your mother up in his car. He was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap with the name of his college on it. He smiled cheekily as he helped you put your bags in the trunk and you rolled your eyes when he opened the door of the passenger seat for you. Your mother was delighted, not only because she didn’t have to drive for two hours to your grandmother’s house, but also because Yoongi had that effect on everyone… including you.
Of course your grandmother loved Yoongi as well. Through her eyes, he was like another version of Simon; he was studying the same thing, he was about to graduate just like him, of course she was delighted to welcome Yoongi with open arms. You weren’t saying that you were not welcomed, or that your grandmother didn’t love you, but you were never received the same way. Yes, she hugged you and kissed you and told you she missed you, but that didn’t mean that later on she would not make comments on the way you dressed, or the way you laughed, or whether you should eat another gingerbread cookie or not.
You could endure all those things, you always did, it was nothing new to you. What you could not endure, howerever, was another second in the presence of your grandmother talking about her neighbor’s daughter. You hardly knew Aria, —the tall and blonde girl with gorgeous blue eyes that was sitting in the living room next to your grandmother— but you knew pretty much everything about her since your grandmother insisted on comparing you to her.
Ever since you were a kid your grandmother liked to compare you to every other girl of your age. You were sure Aria was a nice girl, it wasn’t her fault your grandmother was such a bitch, but you weren’t in the mood to face her today, especially when Simon wasn’t around. You knew she was coming with her family, since your grandma loved to invite the whole neighborhood when the holidays arrived, so when you heard your name being called from downstairs so you would come down and greet the guests, you hid in the nearest room of the house, the cleaning closet towards the end of the hall on the second floor.
After a few seconds you stopped hearing your mother calling for you, but then you started hearing Yoongi, approaching in the hallway as he was looking for you in the room you were staying in. You quickly opened the door, grabbed him by his arms and dragged him into the room with you.
You resolved that problem, the next step was figuring out how you would get out of the current situation.
Yoongi gently grabbed your wrist, removing the hand you were using to cover his mouth. “Aren’t you a little dramatic?” He whispered, completely ignoring the short distance that separated your face from his.
Yoongi’s breath smelled like the red wine he was drinking during lunch, and that should send some alert to your mind to warn you that he shouldn't be this close to you, but your brain seemed to be functioning on a different astral plane, and it was pretty much only focused on Yoongi’s lips.
You felt his hand opening to let go of your crumpled shirt, but then he slowly slid it back to your waist, grabbing you gently.
You gulped.
That seemed completely normal.
“Of course I am.” You whispered back, and you congratulated yourself for being able to speak. “That’s why I am hiding in a closet.”
“And you dragged me with you.” He remarked.
“You were screaming my name, you were going to give me away.” You accused him, digging a finger on his chest.
He nodded, pretending that what you just said made sense “Right, I get it. So… why are you hiding here instead of your room?” He said, emphasizing his words.
You took a quick look around the tiny dark room that wasn’t made to have two people in it. It smelled like bleach and it was full of brooms and dust. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to hide but it seemed like no one opened this room for the last four weeks, so it was safe. You returned your eyes to his face, biting your bottom lip. “My room wasn’t safe.” You explained, dead serious. “Do you think they stopped looking for me already?”
Yoongi rolled his eyes “You sound like someone is trying to kill you.”
Well, no. No one was trying to kill you, but why did you feel the need to run away as if someone was?
“No, it’s worse. If they find me I would have to tell everybody that I dropped out of college.” You effused, making him shake his head in disbelief “You are supposed to be here to support me, aren’t you?” You tried to remind him.
“I am here to support you.” He emphasized. “I am hiding in a closet with you, aren’t I?” You kept silent, knowing he was right. “But you can’t run away from everything, especially if it’s not worth the run, we’ll leave eventually and you’ll forget about your grandma for the rest of the year.”
You sighed, defeated. “I still don’t want to see fucking Aria.”
He scoffed, biting his lip to contain a laugh. “We don’t have to talk to her, we can just say hello and leave.” He said “I mean, but first we have to get out of here.”
He looked around, signaling the room you were squeezed in. He was right, again, he always was. You knew that it was absurd that you were hiding here in the first place, but something inside you urged you to stay there for a few seconds longer. Now you didn’t know if you wanted to stay there to avoid the guests or because you were getting too comfortable in his arms (you already knew the answer).
You had no idea what was happening in Yoongi’s mind, but you were too busy swimming in the warm brown of his eyes to even care, you were too busy dreaming to be interested in what this meant.
You must’ve been long gone for a few seconds, because you were only made aware that you’ve been silent for a while when you heard his soft voice.
“Pinky,” He called for you, pulling you out of the haze of your mind, but the thing that finally snapped you out of it was when you were suddenly caught off guard when you, out of nowhere, felt his hand touching your face, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers “are we going to stop hiding or not?” He calmly asked, making your heart skip a beat.
You blinked, feeling your knees getting weak. If you were speechless before, now you have become completely mute.
What. Was. He. Doing.
And what was he playing?
You couldn’t miss the way his eyes shined in the dark and how your heart swirled in your chest, becoming small the second you watched a flash of a smirk tugging at the corner of his pink lips. Was he fucking laughing at you?
And why were you standing there with your mouth hung open, racking your brain for something to say? Your mind couldn’t process if he was just playing with you, not right now, not ever. You didn’t know what game he was playing, but you decided you were not letting him win regardless. You grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face.
“Don’t treat me like a baby…” You said in a low voice, but you didn’t know what you were talking about anymore. Everything stopped making sense the moment you dragged him into this room.
He squeezed your waist, digging his fingers on your skin over your cotton shirt. “But you sound like a baby.” He murmured, leaning over you just enough to make your noses brush with each other.
Your heart dropped to your stomach, leaving you without air. God, you felt sick. This wasn’t real, this was a product of your imagination, like every single second you spent with Yoongi these last weeks. “Yoongi…” You whispered, trying to warn him, but instead it sounded like you were pleading. You might as well have done both; warning him because if he didn’t stop you would start believing whatever he was doing, and pleading because you were not sure if you could take it.
He freed himself from your grasp, grazing his thumb along your jaw bone. You couldn’t recall a time, not even in your darkest dreams, where he touched you like that.
“What?” He whispered back, his voice hoarse. “What are you going to do?”
The room laid in profound silence for a moment, the weight of your heart suffocated you and the urge to answer him, to smack him in the face, to run away, increased in your chest. You held your breath, watching him open his mouth about to say something, but then the room shook when someone knocked on the door like they were about to knock it down, being followed by the strong sound of your mom’s voice, making you jump away from him.
“Dear, don’t tell me you’re there again.” She yelled loud enough for the whole block to hear, knocking again for good measure.
Yoongi’s arms fell on each side of his body, and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He lifted an eyebrow, ignoring what just happened. “Again, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, pushing his chest to keep a proper distance between your body and his “Shut up.” You gritted your teeth, refusing to acknowledge the warm temperature of your face. You hated to see that there was no trace of embarrassment on his features, just pure amusement. Meanwhile, you didn’t need a mirror to know how red your cheeks were.
Three more knocks. “C’mon, get out there already!” Your mother kept yelling.
When you finally turned around and opened the door, your mother’s gaze fell upon you, looking at you with everything but surprise. It wasn’t the first time you hid there, you did it a couple times when you were a kid and fought with Simon. Your mother was well aware of your hiding place, you just expected her to think you were too old to be found here again.
The surprise came after, when her eyes caught a sigh of another face in the dark. She knew you were going to be hidden here, what she didn’t expect was to find Yoongi right next to you, maybe way too close to each other.
Her eyes widened, out of words “Oh, dear,... Yoongi… Uh, I didn’t- I didn’t know you were both here...” The sentence died in your mother’s lips, but you ignored her reaction, you stepped out of the room, fanning yourself with your hand to cool down and storming out of the situation.
“Sorry, I was dragged into this, Lila.” Yoongi explained, sounding way more composed than you, but the situation didn’t look good for either of you.
“Well, I can only imagine…” She said, but you did not miss her undertone.
You walked back to what was supposed to be your room (and Yoongi’s), leaving both of them behind.
“Your daughter can be very persuasive.” He continued to explain, his voice following you.
A low hum of your mom finished the conversation, she left trying to put together what she just saw, and you hurried your pace so you could lock yourself in the room and leave him outside.
“Pinky!” He exclaimed, stopping you at the door frame.
You needed a second alone, but he was not willing to give it to you.
You turned around, exasperated “What!?” You snapped, but he didn’t care one bit.
“Didn’t you want to get out of here?”
Present
The day Ian came to your apartment to pick up the last box with his things, you finally called your mother to tell her you and him had broken up. You had only told Minnie by then, but it got stuck in your throat for two weeks, ready to be vomited at any moment.
Your mother always said that it was important to grieve things, to be mad about them, to be sad, to cry about them, otherwise you were going to carry that weight while pretending to be okay until, someday, it would explode in your face in the worst possible way. When you broke up with Ian you patiently waited for the tears, for the pain in your chest, for the sad memories of three years with him to arrive one night at three am. You waited for the grief in your car when some sappy love song started playing, or when you went for the groceries and came face to face with the huge advertisement with his face on it, but it never came.
You had an affection for Ian that was not easy to understand, but you liked his company, you liked his unconventional jokes, that he was politically incorrect, that he laughed in the worst moments, but you were never sure you loved him, were you a horrible person for that? For not feeling bad, for not crying for him?
When your mom picked up the phone and you told her why you called, you broke down crying before finishing the sentence, you felt all the emotions stacking up your throat as you sobbed uncontrollably. You soon realized you weren’t crying for Ian, you weren’t crying because you missed him, not even for the proposal, you were crying because you needed a hug from your mom and she was four hours away.
“Women grieve during the relationship.” Minnie theorized when you told her that you didn’t feel bad for Ian “It’s normal if you don’t miss him.”
Maybe she was right, but maybe you were not grieving your relationship with Ian, but the person you were before leaving home.
Now that you were there, sitting at the table with the people that have always been your family, you knew that you were supposed to feel at ease, but the anxiety you felt at the thought of someone mentioning the big break up, as Minnie called it, was stronger. You knew everyone knew, and you knew everyone was thinking about it. Everyone but you, because you were a bit too distracted with a certain someone sitting across the table, just in front of you. A certain someone who couldn’t stop crossing looks with you.
“Aren’t they planning to make a movie about that?” You heard Simon ask, shaking off your thoughts.
As much as you wished not to be the center of attention, you should’ve known that none of your wishes would come true tonight, because every topic, every question, every comment was being redirected at you and your life in the city.
You weren’t paying much attention to the conversation, but you were sure they were talking about a play you starred in two years ago, which contained one of your most acclaimed performances. You remembered those days with pure contentment and pride, but you had numerous reasons for not wanting to talk about it.
“So I’ve heard.” You just said, looking at the half eaten portion of lasagna on your plate.
“Shouldn’t you be in it?” Nari asked this time “You were wonderful in that.”
You smiled, shrugging. “Thanks, but if they don’t offer it to me beforehand I would have to audition again. It’s a different process of casting I suppose.”
You heard almost everyone humming in response, and felt a pair of eyes fixed on the side of your face that you were still trying to ignore. In that moment you decided you would not concede said eyes another single glance tonight, as if you could ever keep your promises.
“But wouldn’t you like to be in it?” Your mom nonchalantly asked “If it were the same casting, I mean.”
You looked at her for a moment, expecting her to realize what she was asking, but she didn’t. You knew she had no business remembering every play you’ve been in, or every casting, or every detail of the life you decided to never share, but you still waited for a moment, expecting her to remember that in that very same play you ended up killing Ian’s character by stabbing him in the heart.
Nothing like reality, you thought.
“Not really.” You chuckled, bitterly “Some things are made to be done just once, it might wear off.”
You breathed out, thinking that you successfully avoided the topic without having to give any explanations.
But of course, once again, you were wrong.
“Oh, sorry, baby.” Your mother backtracked “I forgot you were there with…”
The name died on her throat, immediately knowing that the comment was unnecessary.
You pursed your lips, shaking your head “It’s fine…”
The conversation could have followed its course then, you could have changed the topic yourself, you could have perfectly saved the conversation by making something up, but Nari was quicker.
“Oh, darling, I’m sorry about that, I just heard about it this morning.” She followed your mom, giving you the condolences as if someone just died. “I had no idea.”
“Mom…” You heard Yoongi’s voice echoing in the room as a warning, and without noticing, your gaze landed on him again for a brief moment, immediately breaking your promise. You mentally cursed yourself, taking your eyes off him when he offered an apologetic smile.
Nari looked at him, annoyed at him for scolding her, “I’m just saying, I hope you’re okay, I know it’s not easy.”
“Mom.” Yoongi spoke again, this time more insistent, but his mother paid it no mind.
“It’s okay.” You said without looking at him “I’m okay, things like this happen.”
You didn’t know what things you were referring to, if the break up, the proposal, the leaked pictures, the fact that your ex boyfriend stabbed you in the back. Things like that did not happened everyday, you weren’t supposed to get used to them, but you acted like you already were.
She nodded, looking at you with eyes full of concern. “I was so surprised, honestly. Didn’t you want to get married?”
The directness of the question caught you off guard, so you couldn’t help but chuckle nervously. Everyone could sense how invasive and personal was the question, but the fact that she wasn’t trying to tip-toe around you made you smile softly. You loved Nari, and you knew she meant no harm, so, only for now, you decided to answer with the truth.
“Well, yes, someday.” You quietly professed, the words leaving your mouth like a sigh “But with the right person.”
That was enough to end the conversation, she smiled at you the same way you smiled at her and you could swear she could sense the pain in your heart, not because of Ian, but because of everything else.
Then, Phil began talking about something else and everyone joined the conversation, too scared of saying something wrong and making you cry, but you were still stuck in the moment. After some minutes, when you felt the ache in your chest increasing, you excused yourself and left the table to exit the house through the back door in the kitchen.
You took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill your lungs as you closed the door behind you. You sat at the bench next to Phil’s plants, trying to catch your breath. You were sure you were about to find a home somewhere, you found yourself surrounded by everything that used to feel like it, but you still felt like a foreign person, you still felt like a stranger, a traitor. You couldn’t find the person you were, or the fragments that you didn’t make disappear.
You weren’t strong enough yet, you understood that now. The wind in your hair reminded you that you still tried, but the lack of air in your lungs just told you how immature you still were. Still, you were mindful none of this would be easy, but you just needed a few seconds to compose yourself and then you could come back to the dining room to finish your lasagna. That sounded just fine.
When you were about to get up from your seat, you heard it. The creaking sound of the back door opening, you observed the trace of warm light that came from inside, and then, you heard that voice again.
Inevitably, your eyes met him again, whose head was peeking to verify if you were outside, and when he saw that you were, in fact, there, he closed the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone in the cold darkness of the night. What was he doing?
“You’re here.” Yoongi’s words were accompanied by some misty breath, lingering in the air before disappearing. You lowered your gaze, nervously looking at your feet. ‘You’re here’, he said, and for some reason he sounded relieved.
You were confused, you didn’t understand why he chose to follow you to the backyard, but he invited himself to stay there, leaning on the wall far enough from you.
“It’s cold here.” He announced, trying to dissipate the tension you were creating by staying silent.
You nodded your head, agreeing, but you believed you shouldn’t even grant him that.
Yoongi sighed, “I’m sorry about my mom,” He finally said “I’m sure it wasn’t her intention to put you in an uncomfortable situation.” You tried not to roll your eyes. Was that was he doing? Playing the role of an advocate? “She didn’t mean to sound rude or anything, she just has no filter.”
“It’s okay, I know.” You murmured under your breath. “It wasn’t her fault, it’s just me.”
He kept quiet, he didn’t seem too content with that answer but what could he do about it? You both knew it was the only thing you were going to tell him.
“Fine, but… you shouldn’t be out here… without a coat.” He awkwardly said, making you frown “It’s cold.”
You suppress the urge to punch him in the face, instead, you put your hands between your thighs because he was right, it was cold and you didn’t have a coat on, if you stayed too long outside you were going to get sick.
“I know it’s cold.” You acknowledged “I’m going inside in a second.”
You waited patiently for him to leave, expecting those words to be enough for him to leave you alone for a few more seconds, but he didn’t. He stood there, in the other corner of the porch looking at you like he had something else to say. You didn’t care, you wanted to not care, it was meaningless.
“Are you… I just, uhm… Are you okay?” He stumbled over his words, but you dismissed the way your heart clenched in response.
“Yoongi…” You groaned, intending to sound annoyed at him, but the name came out of your voice like something intimate, something like a secret, it echoed in the air, resonating with the same tenderness that he pronounced your nickname upon seeing you tonight.
“What? I mean-”
“I’m okay, I’ll be there in an instant.” You interrupted him. He didn’t have another option but to agree.
He made his way to the door, but lingered in there for a moment. With one hand on the doorknob, he glanced longingly at you as if he was expecting you to stop him. “You can go now.” You rushed him.
“I know, I know, sorry.” He said, knowing he was caught. “I’m just glad to see you, that's all.”
Before you even got the chance to curse him, he disappeared through the door like nothing happened, once again.
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9.1 Bucky
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,
Word Count: 1.8k
Previously On...: You spent a lovely day at the Compound with Bucky, even if he did tell you he thinks you should stop having sex so you can focus on getting to know one another better.
A/N: In the interest of saving my arm, I'm going to move to a temporary every other day posting schedule. So, for the time being, updates will be Mon/Wed/Fri/Sun/Tue/Thus/Sat etc, at least until I am fully better.
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Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Lily paced in the empty common room as she waited for Bucky to get back to the Compound from wherever he’d been when she’d texted him. She was furious. She was more than furious. She was enraged. After all the work she’d put into preparing their ‘friend’ date, he had the gall to stand her up, and not let her know until fifteen minutes after he was supposed to pick her up! What kind of a friend did something like that?
And then! When one of her recruits had come in after lunch, telling everyone who would listen how he’d seen Bucky Barnes ride off the compound grounds on his motorcycle with “a hot piece of ass” on the bike behind him, and that the “piece of ass” was wearing one of Bucky’s Henleys? How the fuck was she supposed to take that, if not a blatant slap to the face of their relationship? It was all her recruits could talk about for the next twenty minutes, gossiping like a bunch of little old ladies with absolutely nothing better to do with their time.
Until Lily made them run ten miles.
She couldn’t believe he was doing this to her. Risking their four years of friendship.
And all for what? Some random slag? Was he really that desperate to get his dick wet? Fuck, she’d be more than willing to help him out with that if he’d just ask her. Why was he being so difficult?
She stopped mid-turn when she heard the sound of the elevator doors opening. Spinning on her heel, she watched as Bucky exited and made his way slowly into the common room, looking like a man about to walk into his execution. Good, she thought. Let him feel ashamed for humiliating me like that.
“Hey, Lil,” he said when he’d finally reached her.
“Don’t you ‘hey, Lil’ me,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “What you did last night was really hurtful, James”
“I said I was sorry, Lil,” he protested with a sigh, hands thrust deep into his pockets. “I didn’t mean to bail on you– it’s just… she was willing to give me another chance after I fucked it up yesterday morning. I didn’t want to risk blowing it.”
Lily scoffed. “So, you decided that impressing some random hookup was more important than keeping plans you made with your best friend of the last four years?”
“She’s not a random hookup, Lil,” Bucky said, his voice rising slightly. “I told you– I really like this one. I want this to work out between us.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “So, what? Her vagina is so magic you’re gonna let it turn you into a shitty friend?”
Bucky seemed taken aback by that, and Lily began pacing again. “Lil?” He cleared his throat, the sound stopping her in her tracks. “Is the reason you’re so bothered by this because… because you have feelings for me?”
Lily could feel all the blood drain from her face, and she was grateful not to be facing him because she knew she’d look as white as a ghost and completely give herself away.
“It’s okay if you do,” Bucky said into her silence. “I’d never invalidate your feelings, but you have to know that I don–”
“Ego trip much, Jamie?” Lily asked, turning around and giving the cheeriest fake laugh she could muster at a time like this. “You’re my best friend. I mean, I love you, but only as a friend. Don’t be ridiculous.”
She watched in dismay as a weight seemed to be visibly lifted off of Bucky’s shoulders as he leaned against one of the couches; his entire demeanor seeming lighter at her denial, and she was so glad she hadn’t been honest with him. If she had confessed how she felt and he had outright rejected her… Well, she didn’t know what she would do, but she knew it wouldn’t be pretty.
“Why would you even ask me such a thing?” she prodded, attempting to hide the desperation in her voice to know how the seed had been planted. “Honestly, how did that idea even get into your head?”
Bucky shrugged. “You just never seem to like any of the girls I date,” he said. “I thought that might’ve been why.”
Lily scoffed. “I can’t help it that your taste in women is terrible, Jamie,” she said, and felt a twinge of satisfaction when he flinched at her words. “And if I’m not mistaken, I’ve yet to be wrong about a single one of them in the end, no matter how great they seemed at the beginning. But that doesn’t mean that I want to be with you.”
She was lying to him through her teeth, and she knew that she should feel bad about it, but right now, nothing seemed more imperative than to protect herself from his rejection.
“I don’t care how much you like this girl, Jamie,” she went on. “It was still an asshole move to leave me hanging so that you could go fuck some slut you barely know.”
“Hey,” he said, rising to his full height and using a tone of voice that he had never used on her before. An angry tone. “I admit, taking off like that and not giving you more warning was not my finest moment, and I am sorry that I hurt your feelings, I really am. But she is not a slut, and I won’t let you call her that.”
Lily blinked at him for a few beats, her mouth hanging open in shock. He had never, not once in the entire four years of their friendship, raised his voice in anger toward her before. It was a little frightening.
And kind of hot.
“Okay,” she said with a sigh, trying to make her voice sound contrite while hoping for maximum pity at the same time. “I’m sorry. Look, I don’t want to fight with you. It just made me feel like you didn’t care about me. Like I don’t matter to you the second something better comes along.”
Bucky walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Lil,” he said, giving it a gentle squeeze, “you know that’s not true. You’re one of the most important people in my life. I messed up, and I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.”
“I feel like you’ve been saying that to me a lot lately, Jamie,” she said, and was rewarded when she saw him look away from her in shame. She’d cut him a little bit of slack. “How do you plan on making it up to me this time?” she asked with a smile.
Bucky’s entire face lit up, and Lily’s breath hitched. God, but he was beautiful when he smiled at her like that. “I was actually thinking,” he began, moving around the room as he grew excited, “that since I got you so pissed off, what better to get it out of your system than to go destroy some shit at The WarZone?”
Lily just stared at him, shocked. “That’s the place owned by that bitch Natasha invited to the bar on Friday, isn’t it?”
Bucky slowly nodded. “Uh, yeah… Major… Her name’s Major.”
Lily scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Seriously, Bucky? After the way she treated me that night? You can’t honestly expect me to patronize her establishment after the way she humiliated me in front of all of our friends!?”
Bucky frowned at her, and Lily felt something in her stomach twist at his expression. “She didn’t embarrass you, Lil,” he said. “She was just responding to something you said to her first.”
“Well, I don’t care if that’s how you see it,” Lily said defensively. “She was still a nasty bitch to me. I don’t want to have anything to do with her, and I’m sure as shit not going to hang out with you in the business she runs.”
Bucky sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lil,” he said, as though it were paining him, “it’s really important to me that you make an effort to get along with Major.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “Jamie, how could it be that important for me to get along with a random girl you just met the other—” The realization crashed over her like a ton of bricks. “Oh,” was all she could say.
Bucky blushed and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Yeah,” he said almost bashfully. “Major’s the girl I’ve been talking about, Lil. She’s the one I went to see last night.”
Lily’s stomach soured at the realization that Bucky had been sneaking around, lying to her these last few days, in order to go see that fucking bitch. “I—” she began. “You had sex with her Friday night, after you brought her home, didn’t you?”
Bucky nodded, not meeting her eye. He had lied to her face, again.
“I honestly can’t believe you’d put some slut you just met over your best friend, Jamie. That makes this whole thing even worse!”
“She is not a slut, Lily,” Bucky said, his voice clipped in renewed anger. “Don’t you dare call her that!”
“Well, what do you call a girl who sleeps with a guy she’s only known for a couple of hours? Would you prefer ‘tramp,’ or ‘floozy’? Something more in line with your times?”
“I had sex with her after only knowing her for a couple of hours,” Bucky said. “So, I guess you think I’m a slut, too.”
Lily’s eyes went wide at the implication of her words. “Of… of course not, Bucky. I would never insinuate–”
“There’s no difference between what she and I did, because we did it together,” he said. “So, either were both sluts, or neither one of us are.”
This conversation was getting horribly out of Lily’s control. “Look,” she said eventually, trying to get things back on track. If she had any hope of surviving this, she was going to have drastically change her tactics. “I don’t even actually care if you slept with her after only knowing her a few hours.” Oh, but she did, she reminded herself. “I’m pissed because ever since you’ve met this girl, it feels like you’ve done nothing but lie to me and toss me aside. That’s not the Jamie I know, and frankly, your behavior is concerning me.”
Bucky’s face softened, his anger dissipating at her words. “You’re right, Lil. I’ve been a dick, and I promise you, the lying is done. And I’m gonna be more considerate when it comes to communicating with you if I have to cancel plans,” he said.
Lily’s jaw twitched at his choice of words. Not ‘I won’t cancel on you again,’ or even ‘I won’t let this new girl come between us.’ Just a veiled threat that he would bail on her for Major, again and again. She was going to have to play this game very, very carefully if she had any hope of actually breaking them up. That meant, for now, keeping him on her side.
“Thank you, Jamie,” she said, plastering on a hundred watt smile. “You don’t know what that means to me.”
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
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Chapter 11: On Begged And Borrowed Time
Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy?
Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Handjobs, Mirrors, Party, Semi-Public Sex, Quickies, Unsafe Sex, Tags Updated Per Chapter
Author's Note: sorry this took so long!
Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay@nn-hh192 @photo1030 @just-pure-trash @julialoopeezz @hqxee @salientseraph
Chapter List
Failed Robbery in Saint Denis: 2 Dead, 1 Arrested, 6 Missing
You’d lost track of how many times you’d reread the article, the newspaper creased where your hands gripped it. You already knew what the article stated, yet you reread it at every free moment.
The Van Der Linde’s bank robbery had gone wrong. Terribly wrong. Pinkertons had been quick to arrive on the scene, resulting in a shootout that killed two members of the gang, as well as arresting John.
There was a pang in your chest when you saw the sketch of Hosea provided. You hadn’t been close with him, not like Arthur was, but you respected him deeply and were quite thankful for him. To see him listed as nothing more than a failed bank robber and lowlife was disheartening; you knew better.
There was another man pictured alongside Hosea, someone you didn’t recognize. You had been shocked when you first saw him, as he looked barely old enough to be an adult, let alone a part of the gang. Leonard “Lenny” Summers, his name read, and you took a mental note to ask Arthur about him later.
A deep sadness washed over you when you thought of Arthur. Unimaginable relief had flooded you when you hadn’t seen his picture in the newspaper article, meaning he was one of the six on the run. You just hoped that wherever he was, he was alright.
Glancing at the date at the top of the newspaper, you sighed deeply. It had been printed three weeks ago. Three weeks since you last saw Arthur, and possibly for the last time.
You quickly shook that thought from your mind. You refused to even entertain the idea that Arthur might’ve died. Until you saw his body, you didn’t let yourself think that he was anything other than alive. Worse for wear, but alive.
“You reading that damn newspaper again?” Hans’ voice startled you, and you dropped the paper like it burned you. He stood in the doorway of your bedroom, arms crossed over his chest, staring disapprovingly at the newspaper that had fallen back onto the nightstand.
Hans’ demeanor had turned sour over the past three weeks. He was more irritable, a constant scowl on his face, barking at you instead of speaking evenly. You figured it was the stress of his moonshine operation falling apart, and from nearly entrusting his operation’s security into the hands of the failed robbers of Saint Denis.
“Sorry, it’s just…” you sighed. “It’s just so shocking. They seemed so nice!”
“That’s what they want you to think. Can’t fault you for falling right into their trap.”
You’re the one who fell into their trap, you fool. You nearly rolled your eyes, but you forced them to remain still. “It makes me wonder how many liars I’ve trusted.” Like you.
Hans remained silent for a moment, the furrow in his brow deepening, making it almost look like he was glaring at you. “A thought that has passed my mind as well,” he finally said, sounding more like a threat than anything. He didn’t get to see your bewildered expression, though, because he disappeared from the doorway.
His words unsettled you deeply, anxiety brewing in your mind. Did he know? Was he suspicious? Or was he just speaking in an angry tone, with no idea what you were up to?
Grabbing the newspaper, you decided to hide it from your sight, realizing it was doing you more harm than good. Out of the clear of your husband, you grabbed the lockbox, and it took quite a bit of forcing to fit both newspapers in there. Next time Hans left, you’d have to clip out the important parts and discard the rest.
Your mother’s letter appeared as you were messing with the papers, a mixed sense of dread and happiness washing over you. You hadn’t told Hans about your letter. You couldn’t. You weren’t supposed to have reached out to your family, and a part of you dreaded that your mother was coming over because then you’d have to explain yourself to him.
You had no idea when she was coming over, but you knew it had to be sometime soon. Ever since that letter arrived, you’d been expecting her arrival daily, just adding to the stress you were feeling because of Arthur. To say the last few weeks had been difficult would be an understatement, but you pushed through.
Tucking the box away, you headed downstairs, the bedroom causing too many emotions for you to handle right now. You didn’t have to knock to know that Hans was in his office, the door locked shut when you passed.
Sitting on the couch, you picked up the embroidery you were working on, a hobby you’d taken up over the past two weeks to try and distract yourself, Hans permitting, of course. It barely worked, operating as more of a means to pass the time than anything.
Your thoughts were always occupied with Arthur, your stomach constantly in knots. You hadn’t had much of an appetite, and it was starting to wear you down, the bags under your eyes prominent.
It had been a startling discovery, seeing yourself in the mirror after these weeks. You looked how you did when you met Arthur, the sparkle of joy in your eyes that he brought vanishing. Your cheeks were gaunt, and you just looked exhausted.
A light knock at the door startled you, nearly stabbing yourself with your needle. You waited for Hans to emerge from his office; maybe he was expecting someone today.
But when a minute passed and he didn’t emerge, your heart hammered in your chest. Another light knock made you move, setting your embroidery on the couch. Shakily, you made your way to the front door, and you took a deep breath before opening it.
On the other side stood your mother, looking a few years older, yet still the same woman all the same. People always joked when you were a child that you were just a younger version of your mother, but as your eyes fell on her, you realized how right they had been.
A warm smile appeared on her face when she saw you, a smile that had brought you so much comfort. Even now, you feel like all the weight on your shoulders has been lifted. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to move, emotions rendering your legs useless, staring at your mother like you’d just seen a ghost.
It was when she said your name softly that the spell you were under finally broke. A sob tore from your throat, and she had barely opened her arms before you were crashing into her, your own arms clinging to her. Right now, you weren’t Mrs. Kerrigan. You were just someone who needed the comfort of their mother.
Immediately her hands were soothing you, one running through your hair, the other rubbing circles into your back. Your tears were staining her dress, but neither of you cared. For the first time in weeks, you finally let go of all the emotions that had bottled up inside of you, stress and sadness and grief pouring out, unable to hide them any longer.
You’re not sure how long she held you for, letting you cry on her shoulder. You’re sure your commotion caught the attention of Hans, but that was an afterthought. Eventually, your sobs receded, and you pulled away, your eyes puffy and cheeks red.
Tears of her own flowed down her face, and you felt her gently wipe your cheeks. “My beautiful daughter…” she murmured, and your bottom lip trembled. “I’ve missed you.”
“Me too,” you sighed. “How… how is everyone?”
“They’re well. But sweetheart, are you well?” You felt one of her thumbs brush beneath your eyes. “You don’t look it.”
“These past weeks have been… tough,” you admitted. “But that’s a conversation for later.” Where Hans won’t be able to hear me. “Oh, where are my manners? Please, come inside.” You took a step back, gesturing to the still-open door.
“Since when have you worried about manners?” Your mother teased, but you missed the slight bit of concern in her voice. “Before we head in, there is someone else who would like to see you. Margaret?” Your mother shouted to the carriage that you now saw behind her, and an even larger smile appeared on your face as you watched your sister step out.
If you looked exactly like your mother, then she was a carbon copy of your father. But when she smiled back at you, you swore you saw yourself. Her excitement was contagious as she practically ran to you, skirts bunched up in her hands as she bound up the stairs. YOu nearly toppled over as she barreled into you, and a fresh stream of tears poured down your face as you held her.
“Maggie!” You exclaimed, partially in shock. “You’ve grown so much!” It was true. Long gone was the young teenager you’d left back at home. In front of you was a grown woman, a maturity in her eyes that you weren’t expecting when she pulled away. But it was astounding to see she hadn’t lost her energy, her joy for life. A part of you almost felt envious, as much as you hated to admit.
Your name was barely audible, muffled as she hugged you, making you laugh. “You should’ve seen her when she saw your letter,” your mother smiled. “We haven’t had a moment of peace since.” She didn’t sound upset about it.
“Is that true?”
Maggie nodded her head, leaning back to look at you, her arms still wrapped around your body. “I’ve missed you so much!”
“It ain’t a competition, but I think I’ve missed you more.” Maggie playfully rolled her eyes, and you pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She was still shorter than you, but you weren’t about to comment about that now. “Let’s get inside. We’ve got a lot to discuss!”
With your arm around Maggie, you led her and your mother into your house for the first time. Their eyes danced around the spacious downstairs, and although they were used to seeing wealth, they could still appreciate the beauty of your home. If only you felt the same. Even with your family in it, it still felt foreign.
You led them to the living room, letting them sit on the couch before excusing yourself to the kitchen, going to grab drinks. Or at least you tried to until your mother stopped you with a gentle grasp of your hand. “Sit, sweetheart.”
“But-”
“You don’t have to bring out the formalities for us. We just want you, improper and perfect.”
Biting your trembling lip, you nodded, letting her sit you between her and Maggie. She didn’t let go of your hand, her other hand resting atop yours, and Maggie adjusted so that she was sitting closer to you. “You’ve got a beautiful house.” You nodded, an empty thanks leaving your lips. “Although it’s quite… empty.”
“If you’re asking about children,” you laughed, albeit bitterly, “I’m afraid me and my husband haven’t been blessed in that department.” Thank God. You weren’t opposed to children, no, but you did not want them with Hans. He’d make a terrible father, and you’d be stuck managing them by yourself.
“Is your husband around?” Maggie asked, and you struggled to come up with a response. How could you say that he was, but he locked himself away in his office at every spare moment?
You didn’t have to respond, though, because a loud cough from the staircase behind you answered for you, all three of you turning to face the noise. “Her husband is around and is quite confused. Care to explain, dear?” The endearment was dripping with vitriol.
You instinctively grasped your mother’s hand tighter. Confusion and concern were written across her face, already not liking the confrontational tone Hans had adopted. “Hans, this is my mother, Irene, and my little sister Margarete. Mother, sister, this is my husband, Hans Kerrigan.”
“I know who they are,” Hans interjected, slowly stepping towards you all. You failed to notice the slight panic in his voice. “What are they doing here?”
Your mother opened her mouth to respond, but you cut her off, afraid that she would mention the letters. “I don’t know,” you lied, and you missed the look Maggie and Irene shared. “They just showed up. Isn’t it great?”
If Hans believed you, you couldn’t tell. A forced smile found its way beneath his beard. “Great, yes.” If you thought your lying ability was terrible, his was even worse. “A pleasure, ladies.”
“Mr. Kerrigan, as lovely as it is to meet you, I’m afraid that we have… business in the city we must attend to.” Panic gripped you. “All three of us must attend to.”
Your husband's expression was unreadable, and you had no idea if he’d let you go. “Can I?” You asked, hating that you sounded like a child asking their parents if they could play with their friends. This was your family, you didn’t have to ask anyone’s permission to be with them.
It seemed your mother felt the same way, cutting your husband off before he could agree or disagree. “No daughter of mine needs permission from anyone. She’s going with me.”
A tense silence filled the room, making you shift uncomfortably. The look Irene gave Hans was deadly, her head cocked to the side like she was daring him to say something against it. Her actions confused you, though. She was advocating for your independence, yet she had no protest against a marriage against your will. Yet again, she had seemed surprised about your marriage, so maybe she didn’t have as much say as you thought. Just another thing you needed to ask her.
Hans’ eyes flicked to you, almost disbelieving. He didn’t respond, merely scoffing before retreating upstairs. You could feel the anger rolling off of him, and you knew you were in for it later.
Your mother stood, rather abruptly, yanking you to your feet as well. “We’re leaving,” was all she said.
You knew there was no room for argument, but you tried anyway. “But we just sat down-”
“We are leaving.” You didn’t offer any further protests. The house was suffocating right now, and you needed to escape. After putting on your shoes, Irene brought you back outside, Maggie hot on your heels. The tense silence still hung in the air, even as you sat in the carriage, your sister sliding in beside you, your mother across you.
Even as the carriage began to move, heading anywhere but here, no one spoke for a good five minutes. You were the first to break the silence. “I’m sorry,” you began, “he’s usually more… amicable than that.” It wasn’t a complete lie.
“You don’t need to apologize-”
“You left us for him?” Your sister interjected, not bothering to hide the hurt in her voice.
“Maggie,” your mother warned, but she just shook her head.
“No, I can’t believe it. You left us for him?” Her voice rose in anger. “Here I thought you ran away because you were in love, because you found someone who treated you well. But you ran away from us, from… me, for him? You ran away when I… I needed you. I needed my sister.”
So she also thought you ran away, and was rightfully angry at you for something you didn’t do. “I’m not sure I know what you’re sayin’. I didn’t run away.”
“Don’t lie to me. I found your note.”
“What note?” You were truly bewildered now, looking to your mother for clarification. You hated that she looked upset at you as well.
“The night you disappeared, you left a note on your bed, detailing why you were leaving. That was the last time we ever heard from you. You don’t remember?”
You felt like you were losing it. “I’ve got no clue what you’re talking about.” You scoffed, “You of all people should know that I didn’t run away.”
Now it was her turn to be confused. “What do you mean?”
“You think I wanted this? To be stuck with a man that hates everything to do with me, who controls me like I’m just his goddamn toy? In no world would I run away from my family to be with someone like him.”
“Then why did you leave?” Maggie asked, her voice surprisingly soft.
“I didn’t have much of a choice. Father set up this marriage to save the family from falling into financial ruin. I did this to help us. You know this, mother!”
You didn’t know if you should be relieved or concerned when you saw her shake her head, pure shock on her face. “He did what?” Her words were clipped, upset, but not at you anymore.
“You… you didn’t know? He officiated it and everything!”
She continued to shake her head, leaning back against her seat. “He wouldn’t…”
“But he did. He did it easily.”
Tears had begun to pool in her eyes, and a hand came to cover her mouth. “But why? How?”
So you told them. You told them how your father had woken you early in the morning, barely letting you get dressed before escorting you to the carriage that sat outside. Your belongings had already been packed, but he had not explained anything, not even during the few days of travel south. When you finally reached your destination, you had been whisked away, stuffed into a dress, and sent to the altar, where you met Hans for the first time, and then married. You realized now that the reason it had just been you, Hans, and your father at the wedding was because he wanted to keep the rest of the family in the dark. “I found out later it was done for financial security. We were about to lose everything.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either.”
“No, I mean I don’t understand why.” Her next words made you pale. “We’ve never had financial troubles. At least not severe enough to warrant… this.”
“Maybe he didn’t tell you?” If your father had withheld the details of your marriage, then it was likely he kept the details of the family’s finances from them as well. But maybe you were desperate for the last two years to have any sort of meaning, for it to not all be in vain.
“He couldn’t have hidden financial troubles from us. Not as well as he hid, well, you.”
“Then what was it all for?” You whispered, your voice on the verge of breaking. “These past two years, what were they for?”
“I wish I could tell you, sweetheart.”
“So I didn’t have to leave? So I could’ve stayed at home, where I was happy, where I would’ve taken over the family business, where my dreams wouldn’t have been put on hold?” You were rambling, but you didn’t care. Tears poured down your cheeks, mourning a life you could’ve had. “I could’ve had that?”
“Why didn’t you leave?” Your sister asked, her hand finding its way to yours.
“I couldn’t. Mainly because I was under the impression that my marriage was what was keeping you well, and I couldn’t jeopardize that. But I didn’t have the means to leave either. And where would I go?”
“You could’ve come home!”
“I had no idea where you moved to, though. The only reason I was able to write to you was because I had a… friend find your new address. Why did you move, by the way?”
“Father didn’t say, although I’m beginning to suspect it was to keep you from finding us.”
“Why would he do that though? What would require such secrecy?”
“I have no idea.” Those words seemed to be the running theme of this conversation, and you sighed, your cheeks still damp. You had no idea how to process all this new information, anger and betrayal clouding your thoughts.
“You said you had a friend,” your mother began. She was trying to distract you, which you were grateful for, but thinking of Arthur just made your heart heavier. “Who’s she?”
“Well, he…” your mother and sister shared looks, “he’s kind. He’s helped me a lot over the past months. But… But I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“Do we know him?”
“How often do you read the newspaper?” You joked, with no humor in your voice.
“Every Sunday. Why?” Maggie asked, hesitantly.
“You’ll know him then. His name’s-”
Shouting from the carriage driver announcing you’d arrived in Saint Denis cut you off. It felt like no time had passed, and you weren’t expecting to be in the city already. The rest of your family seemed to be feeling the same way, a sense of wariness shared between the three of you.
“Come. Let us forget about this, if just for a moment,” your mother wiped at her face, forcing a smile on her face. “Terrible revelations aside, I wish to spend the afternoon with my daughters.” She got out of the carriage first, a gentleman escorting her out. Maggie was next, and you took a moment to compose yourself before stepping out.
The sound of the city hit you first, shouting and bells and whistles assaulting your ears. The stench was next, and your sister had a poorly hidden expression of disgust. “You’ll get used to it,” you whispered to her, remembering that she’d never been to Saint Denis. Glancing around, you saw that you were near the outskirts of the city, close to where Bronte lived.
Your mother extended an arm to each of you, and you both linked your arms with hers, walking beside her as she led you further into the city. You tried to distract yourself with the colorful imagery around you, yet your mind kept wandering to the words that had been spoken in the carriage.
You truly had no idea why your father would marry you off. You were his eldest daughter, set to be the heir of his business, his pride and joy second to his children. Your entire life, that is what you were led to believe would happen, and he seemed to believe it too. Why would he disrupt everything by sending you away?
So caught up in your thoughts, you failed to notice the different atmosphere the city held today. It was lively, sure, but it seemed almost on edge. No one greeted you as you passed, even if they recognized you, and people seemed to be almost somber.
“You’d think someone just died,” you heard Maggie mutter, pulling you from your mind.
She hadn’t been quiet, though, and the couple walking in front of you shot her each a dirty look. “That’s because someone has, girl.”
Her eyes widened. “My apologies,” she stammered, embarrassed. “Who?”
“Angelo Bronte.” Your responding gasp didn’t deter them. “They found his body in the swamp, eaten by gators. Maybe read the paper before spewing such ignorant things.”
Your mother and Maggie weren’t affected by their words, their attention was immediately on you and your reaction. “Did you know him?” Your sister asked, and you nodded.
“Not personally, but I’ve been to plenty of his parties. He was a prominent figure here, a rich one at that. He practically runs… ran this city.” You lowered your voice so only they could hear, “I’d say he got what was comin’ for him, though.”
“That bad?”
“That bad.” You sighed. “But let’s just hope the city doesn’t collapse without him.”
Your mother turned down a street, not having joined in on the conversation yet, but she was paying attention. You and Maggie continued to chat lightly, and for a moment you’d managed to successfully forget the worries in your mind. That was until you passed a wooden board, something you didn’t pay attention to until a familiar sketch caught your eye.
You suddenly stopped, much to the confusion of your sister and mother. But you didn’t hear their concerned questions; the only thing you could focus on was the bounty poster in front of you, which contained a sketch of someone you now saw to be Arthur. His features were almost shaper, the artist making him look as intimidating as possible. He was depicted like he’d been described in the papers, a bloodthirsty bank robber, a ruthless vagrant, pure evil in the public eye.
Yet even this depiction could not lessen the love you felt for him.
“Sweetheart, what is it?” You finally heard your mother, who was shaking your arm gently.
“I… I know him.” You shook your head. “Sorry, it’s nothin’.”
“Arthur?” It was incredibly strange hearing his name from your mother’s mouth. Recognition flashed across her face, most likely having read about him in the paper. “Did he hurt you?”
“What? No! Never!” You rushed to say. “He’s my… friend that I was takin’ about.” You were certainly more than that, but you were not about to explain that to your mother.
That surprised her, and she didn’t have any words. Maggie stepped in for her. “The outlaw with the five-thousand-dollar bounty is your friend?” She was in just as much disbelief as your mother, and you shushed her.
“Just tell the whole damn city while you’re at it,” you hissed. “Yes, he is my friend. Yes, I know it’s ridiculous. No, I will not go into further detail.” You spared one last glance at the poster before continuing down the road, dragging your family along beside you. Seeing him, even as just a sketch, made your heart ache. Maybe Arthur had hurt you, just not in the way you thought.
You hoped your mother didn’t see the way you reacted when you saw him, an expression you’re sure that filled his longing. An expression that wouldn’t be appropriate for “just a friend”. You hoped your sister hadn’t seen the tears that had sprung to your eyes as you read Wanted: Dead or Alive sprawled across the top.
They both didn’t question you about it, even though you knew they were dying to. They left you in silence, letting you process your emotions, which you were grateful for. If they made you talk about him, you were certain you’d burst into barely contained tears.
Your mother let you lead the way for a few more minutes, but she eventually took the reins again, steering you and a very curious Maggie to a tailor. She ushered your sister inside first but halted you when you tried to follow. Any protest died in your throat when you saw the adamant expression on her face, and so you let her take you by the arm to the narrow alleyway adjacent to the building.
“Talk to me.” Her voice was demanding yet kind.
“Mother-”
“You love him, don’t you? Your ‘friend’.” You cast your gaze to the ground, fighting tears. Were you that easy to read? Hesitantly, you nodded, and she softened. “Sweetheart…”
That broke the dam, a stifled sob leaving you as she pulled you into a hug. “I’m sorry,” you managed to get out, and you felt her shake her head.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because I love him.”
“That is nothing to be sorry about,” she nearly laughed, pulling you back to look you in the eye.
“But I’m married. I’m… we’ve… it’s not right.”
“Maybe not,” she agreed, “but perhaps it’s what’s best. You’re miserable with Hans, and I can’t blame you. Why your father would ever agree to marry you to him is beyond me…”
“Are you sayin’ I should leave him?”
“Yes,” she responded with no hesitation. “You’ve no reason to be married to him any longer, no? It’s terrifying, but is it not scarier to imagine a life where you’re stuck by Hans’ side for years to come?”
The idea did make you shudder, especially now that you had Arthur. How long would you be able to keep your affair hidden? How long would you be able to pretend like Hans’ very presence didn’t revolt you? You guessed a few more months, tops. “Would he even agree to a divorce?” You whispered.
“I can’t answer that. But when you’re ready to ask,” she took your hands, “I’ll be right there by your side. We all will.”
“And if I don’t ask?” You blurted out. “What if I just… ran?”
“Then you’ll be running for the rest of the time Hans is on this Earth. Although, it seems like you’d have someone beside you who is quite good at not getting caught.” She sighed. “I can’t tell you what would be the best decision. But just know that whatever choice you make, I’ll support you. All I wish is to see you happy.”
You nodded, a new sense of hope growing within, something that had been lacking for a while. “If Arthur returns, I’ll do it.”
“When he returns,” your mother corrected. “Have some faith. If he cares about you nearly as much as you do him, he’ll make his way back to you.”
“He always has…” you muttered under your breath. “When he returns, I’ll do it.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
She smiled warmly at you after planting a kiss on your damp cheek. “Now, let us join your sister before she comes looking. If you couldn’t tell, she’s not the best at being subtle.”
You laughed, wiping away your tears, letting your mother lead you to the store. “I’ve noticed.”
The bell chimed as you stepped in, Maggie rushing to your sides as soon as you did. “What took you so long?” She whisper-shouted, making you laugh harder. She was as inconspicuous as a bull in a china shop. “What?”
“I told you.”
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
By the time the three of you had returned to the carriage, the sun had long since set, the moon washing the world in a cool white light. The vehicle was not only stuffed with you, Maggie, and your mother, but various bags and gowns from a successful shopping trip to the city. Your mother had not been lying when she said the family was not struggling financially, as she had easily paid for your new dresses and other items. Laughter flowed easily from the three of you, your minds fully distracted from the information of the morning.
That cheery mood lasted the whole ride, up until the driver turned down the familiar road leading to your house. Your smile fell, and you felt your mother grab your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “You won’t have to deal with him for much longer, sweetheart. You’ve got this.”
“Can it be over now?” You practically whined, anxiety bubbling in you.
“Why can’t you just come home with us?” Maggie asked, having been informed about the conversation you’d had with your mother.
“I’m not leavin’ without Arthur. Once he comes back, I’m gone.” You weren’t sure if you were convincing them or yourself.
She didn’t let go of your hand, not until the carriage came to a halt. “It’s been wonderful seeing you both,” you began. “If I’m not gone in the next few weeks, come and get me. Please.”
“Gladly,” your mother responded. “If you and Arthur need a place to stay, to lie low, just know that our, your house is available. With or without your father’s permission.”
“Get some answers from him. And give my regards to everyone else.”
“I love you, sweetheart. Always remember that.” She kissed your cheek. “We’ll see you soon. That’s a promise.”
Hugging Maggie, at least as best you could, you left the carriage before your nerves rooted you in place. With your arms full of items, it took some careful steps, but you eventually made your way up the porch. You watched as the carriage drove away, smiling as brightly as you could at your sister through the window, before letting it fall away completely.
Taking a deep breath, you walked into your home, heading straight to the staircase. Climbing up the stairs with all the stuff was also difficult, cursing under your breath when you kept stepping on the skirts of your new dresses. It took longer than necessary, but you managed to stumble into your room. You’d only taken a single step in until an unseen force hit the back of your head.
Your vision went black before you made contact with the floor.
#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan#arthur morgan rdr2#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x female reader
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-> Music Monday
We're back!!
The playlists and docs have been updated with the submissions from last week. Go give them a listen!
Daylight - Shinedown
I was diagnosed with a fear of getting too close
Had to tell the ones I love, I was on the ropes
It's amazing what the hard times can reveal
Like who shows up, who walks away, and who's for real
You saved my life, not once but twice
You keep me free from falling
You saved my life, make it all alright
When I don't feel like talking
You make sure I always see the daylight
To me, this song encapsulates the relationships between everyone on the show. It's about the people who lift you up and have your back no matter what.
Fade In / Fade Out - Nothing More
Just the other day I looked at my father
It was the first time I saw he'd grown old
Canyons through his skin and the rivers that made them carve the stories I was told
He said,
"Son, I have watched you fade in, you will watch me fade out
When the grip leaves my hand, I know you won't let me down
Go and find your way, leave me in your wake
Always push through the pain, and don't run away from change
Never settle, make your mark
Hold your head up, follow your heart"
When the morning comes and takes me
I promise I have taught you everything that you need
In the night you'll dream of so many things
But find the ones that bring you life and you'll find me
This is an emotional one, y'all. Firstly, I implore you all to check out the music video for this song. Bring tissues!
This song reminds me of Carlos and Gabriel. It's about a father and son that have a complicated relationship and grow apart as they get older. In the end they get to a point where they want to reconcile, but unfortunately, it's too late. However, the father knows his son is going to go achieve great things. It's bittersweet, yet hopeful.
Moondust - Jaymes Young
I'm building this house, on the moon
Like a lost astronaut
Looking at you like a star
From the place the world forgot
And there's nothing that I can do
Except bury my love for you
Yeah, I'm living far away, on the face of the moon
I've buried my love to give the world to you
The brightness of the sun, will give me just enough
To bury my love in the moondust
I long to hear your voice, but still I make the choice
To bury my love in the moondust
This is the ultimate breakup-era song! Carlos is trying to build his life and his home while loving TK from afar. He knows he may have to let him go, and he'll bury his love if that's what it takes for them both to move on and for TK to find happiness.
Time - NF
That's when I look at you and tell you I'd be better alone
Just the pride talkin', isn't it? 'Cause both of us know
I'm the definition of "wreck" if you look into my soul
Comes out the most when I feel I'm in a vulnerable place
Made a lot of mistakes I wish I knew how to erase
When I'm afraid, might get distant and I push you away
But no matter the case, I'ma do whatever it takes
Yeah, way before I bought you the ring
We were fighting back and forth like you were wearin' the thing
Two passionate people not afraid to say what they think
Lead to passionate conversation when it's hard to agree
And I know it hurts knowing that I carry this weight on my chest
Making it difficult for me to open up and connect
Lot of regrets, I apologize for all of the stress
That's not what I meant to do, you know I love you to death
Even if we both break down tonight
And you say you hate me, and we go to bed angry
I know everything will be alright
I'll be here waiting, I promise I'm changing
I just need time
Time is a very universal song when it comes to relationships. It's about recognizing your own issues and working on them, not only for yourself but in order to be a better partner. This is what TK and Carlos do every day.
Tags!
@strandnreyes @goodways @nancys-braids @captain-gillian @lemonlyman-dotcom
@carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @literateowl @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos
@welcometololaland @reyesstrand @bonheur-cafe @heartstringsduet @theghostofashton
@goldenskykaysani @freneticfloetry @eclectic-sassycoweyes @whatsintheboxmh @honeybee-taskforce
@messymindofmine @fandomswonderland @kiwichaeng @reeeallygood @toomanycupsoftea
@firstprince-history-huh @fitzherbertssmolder @safeaswrites @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut
#har rambles#911ls music mondays#music monday#911 lone star#music tag#if you saw me accidentally post this yesterday no you didn't
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⌦ Introduction ⎙
Hello and welcome to syspport, a help and support blog for those who are a system with a complex dissociative disorder
⌦ About the blog ⎙
This blog is directed to all the dissociative systems out there who wants help, support, advice or any kind of safe place to stuck and understand, grow or any need they can think that doesn't break with the blog rules and boundaries
Some of the things this post we'll have well be:
Informing and talking about CDD
Validation and positivity post for CDD systems
Answering questions regarding CDD
Coining terms, roles, sysboxs and various things for systems
Open submissions to talk about your experiences
Tips, templates, and general help for simply plural
Presenting resources and tools for systems
Advices and tips for dealing with some dissociative and/or system-like experiences
And any kind of help and support you need and we didn't list here you can ask and we'll probably provide!!
All of our post will have the syspport tag, and in the beginning of the post we'll clarify the topic/themed is aligned to thanks to our emoji code for topics
The emoji code is:
💻 = Info about CDD
💽 = Positivity and validation
📻 = Tips, advice and similar
🎞 = Submissions
🔖 = Coining
⚙ = Tools and resources
& = Simply Plural related post
🎨 = Templates, sysboxs, name ideas, etc.
📱 = Other kind of post
(Probably gonna update this emoji code if needed)
If you want to interact frequently in an anonymous way you can claim anon emojis!!
⌦ About the owner ⎙
This account is run by the 3 principal hosts of The Persmo:
- Rowlpy | He/It | -🔩🎭
- Namelnom | Any but she/her and fem neo/xeno pronouns (Preference by He/They/Hl) | -🐺🦉
-Neomel | Same pronouns as Namelnom | -📚☕
In some post we would leave our sign offs so we leave them here
Sometimes we'll talk about us in the blog, but I doubt it would be a various time things
We normally use tonetags, so hope that doesn't get an inconvenient when looking our blog
⌦ Boundaries ⎙
This blog is CDD systems exclusive, so if you're not one please go off our blog, you can interact tod do questions and read info about CDD but please don't interact outside that and don't use our posts, terms or anything we do here if you don't have a CDD, education is ok, but do not claim or attack, we won't hesitate in blocking blogs and accounts for the safety of the blog and its followers
(This rule applies to non disordered systems and singlets)
This blog is a safe space and isn't open with syscourse, discussion nor debate regarding system topics. There can be some posts and things that mention or a are aligned to this kind of topics but it's not a discussion blog, so please take that in mind
Submissions are always open, but please have in mind this rules before using it:
If is necessary add the corresponding TW/CW above the submission
No slurs, attacks, mockery or any kind of bad behavior to anyone in the submissions (And if you're gonna mention someone censor and give a nicknames, don't reveal information)
Be respectful when making the submission, and if you have a request (Coining, designing or talking about something) use "please"
Specify if you want a submission to be published with the message or if you want a separate post with no submission attached
DNI:
Basic DNI, non-disordered plurality, singlets, radical-pro endos (we don't accept syscourse here), closed mind people, trans-id (Specially trans-plural), doesn't have system accountability, anti-recovery, syscourse blogs, say things like sysmed or traumascum, any kind of passive-aggressive people
The break of one of our boundaries will be an instant block
#endos dni#did osdd#system things#traumagenic system#cdd system#cdd community#system template#pluralkit template#system userbox#simply plural#sysblr#system stuff#system coining#osdd system#did system#plural system#osddid#system help#system questions#system support#syspport#system flags#alter term#alter roles#traumagenic#actually did#system community
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Hi there hello, I'm sure you're wondering either
A) Why tf I just reblogged a bunch of stuff in the span of like 30 seconds
B) What's going on in general
C) What's the point of this post you're reading
D) All of the above
Well dear viewer, I'm gonna give you a TL;DR and then under the cut give a more in-depth explanation, I'll even cut it up into different sections to make viewing easier :)
⚠️ Trigger Warnings ⚠️
Randy (duh), a LOT of swearing (duh), suicide mentions, pedophilia/attempted grooming/etc mentions, queerphobia (transphobia, homophobia, etc), misogyny, mentions of sexual things, slurs, harassment, general 16+ content mentions
Disclaimer
Randy is a 14 year old minor (allegedly) as of the time this post was made, please DO NOT INTERACT with him, just block him and report him as many times as you want. This post's purpose is to spread awareness and maybe hopefully get him banned from Tumblr. Please do not go after, attack, or interact with him or his (supposed) "girlfriend" (he has her tagged at the bottom of his pinned post). I suggest you block (NOT REPORT) his "girlfriend" too, you can never be too careful.
As of the time this post was made Randy's father and school have been contacted, and we are waiting on an update.
Please offer all the victims of Randy unconditional love and support, they deserve that and so much more for all the bullshit this kid put them through, don't you dare even TRY to victim blame them. I will flame you if you attack them at all in any way shape or form, no excuses, ifs, ands, or buts.
I am also a minor in high school (not giving my age for my own safety), so take that how you will. My pronouns are they/them/he/him if you don't know already :D
One more thing before we get into it (if it wasn't obvious already),
GET THE FUCK OFF OF MY PAGE AND BLOCK ME IF YOU'RE QUEERPHOBIC (transphobic, homophobic, etc) OR AGREE WITH RANDY IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM. DO NOT FUCKING INTERACT WITH ME EVER AGAIN.
Thank you, you may now proceed.
Links
The Google Doc (Alllllll the info about this guy in one place, most reliable source of info) | Randy Tag (Second-most reliable source of info, all posts related to him will [hopefully] be here) | Randy's Interactions With Me (proof of him interacting with me) | Google Photos Album (just all of the screenies of proof in one place, I'm gonna tryyyyy to keep this updated as much as I can but no promises)
My response to the 1st ask he sent me | My response to the 2nd ask he sent me (pretty much the same as the first one)
The Short Explanation
So basically this whole fiasco is about @randysworld-multi-fandom-fan or otherwise known as randysworld2009
His crime(s)?
1. Hypocrisy
2. Queerphobia (transphobia, homophobia, the works)
3. Misogyny
4. Perversion (being a pervert)
5. Suicide baiting
6. Pedophilia accusations (all of which are false, and carelessly thrown around)
7. Attempted grooming(?) of fellow minors
8. Slurs (need I say more?)
9. Harassment (in case that wasn't obvious already)
Among other things
He's been interacting with accounts in the following fandoms (as of the time this post was posted):
The Amazing Digital Circus (TADC)
Hellaverse (Hazbin Hotel & Helluva Boss, or HV/HH/HB)
Murder Drones (MD)
SMG4 (Super Mario Glitchy 4)
Yo Gabba Gabba (YGG)
TL;DR this guy is a 5yo Gen Alpha brainrotted kid stuck in a 14yo kid's body, and he's been harassing multiple (mainly TADC) accounts on Tumblr for a bit now, and just being a nuisance and damaging people's mental health.
That's the simple explanation, if you're still not convinced you need to block this guy (and his [supposed] girlfriend) and report him until your hands hurt and/or would like to know more thennnnn
The full explanation + evidence is under the cut ✨
The Long Explanation
Okay so I'm gonna be quoting the Google Doc a LOT here, you'll be able to tell which parts are quoted and which parts are me.
"Randy or randysworld2009 is a Tumblr user that appeared around TADC blogs in the beginning of 2024. Since then, he has built a history of harassing said blogs, mostly roleplay/askblog accounts and artists, forcing roleplay and specially spouting misogyny towards women mods and fem leaning characters, transphobic and homophobic towards queer people. At one point he started getting his information messed up, saying that he was super straight and then later on a “half-bisexual”, also often times approaching people with romantic/sexual intent and then getting angry when those same people state that they are not interested or are above legal age, which he supposedly is not. It is believed that Randy is 14 years old, but at this point, we can’t be certain of what information is true or false. For all we know, his blog could be just a troll."
So yeah, this guy is bad news. That was a direct (formal) quote from one of the victims.
If formal isn't your style, here's a more casual one
"Randy first appeared around the beginning of 2024. He began harassing tadc ask blogs then that led to harassing their mods. Eventually others got involved and Randy basically snapped. He got EVEN MORE batshit and started spouting misogyny, transphobia, and dilution. He's chronically online and believes everything is a roleplay. He's obsessed with getting a girlfriend and has sexually harassed many. he is the horniest bastard you could fucking meet omg"
Another direct quote from another victim, this one he treated the WORST.
(Some) Screenshots
There are more screenshots in the Google Doc and the Google Photos Album I made, but these will be a few tidbits of evidence that will hopefully convince you by now if you're not already. (With some additional commentary/explanation from yours truly underneath each screenie✨)
Additionally, all the images will have links to their sources. (Please let me know if they don't work, I'll update this with usable links if that's the case)
Exhibit A - The Bastard Himself
(Mb for light mode jumpscare here, even more reason for your eyes to bleed when looking at this immature fuck's profile)
Just his profile (as of the time this post was posted) so you know exactly who to block and report as many times as possible
Exhibit B - His Interactions With Me
This is some evidence of him interacting with me, there's more in the Google Photos Album I made of proof he interacted with me
(Mb for light mode jumpscare again, it's the only way I could show the post and the comments in the same screenie)
His comments on my pinned post, if you saw this or this you know I demanded that he delete his comments on here (while flaming the fuck out of him), so here's a screenie of what they were before he (hopefully) deletes them
The first ask he sent me, my response being the awesome giant rant where I DEMOLISHED him (I'm way too proud of it if you couldn't tell)
All his interactions with me from when he initially found me
The rest of his interactions he's ever had with me
Like the first ask he sent, I answered with the same thing, ANNIHILATING this fucker (still way too proud of it)
Exhibit C - Direct Victim Testimonies (to yours truly)
These are asks that I sent to the main 3 victims I had gathered evidence from before gaining access to the Google Doc, they're my main sources so far (send all the love and support to them please [especially Sunny's system they've all been hurt the most from what I can see], they're very sweet outside of all this and more than deserve it)
Dia answered first, their answer helped me gain access to the Google Doc and get a HUGE chunk of the evidence I'll be showing here
Second half of Dia's answer, a summary of the wholeeee situation straight from a direct victim
Sunny was the second to answer my ask, this is what I mean when I say clearly Sunny needs the most love and support out of all the victims (as far as ik) cus like how can you not man- also this is how I found out they contacted Randy's father and school, very big piece of lore (and you'll see why they have soon don't worry)
Lilith was the last to respond to my ask, this being how I found out that it was them specifically that contacted Randy's dad & school (which I commend them for, it was a very good move so bravo to them man genuinely)
Exhibit D - Evidence
And now the moment you've all been waiting for, if this doesn't convince you then shit idk what will-
This post was my first exposure to what Randy is ACTUALLY like and wowee what a doozy man, it started me down the rabbit hole that lead me to making this post rn (make sure you look at the notes [both comments and the reblogs] too those also have even more info aside from everybody FLAMING the fuck out of this kid lolol)
Also GO OFF ON HIM GLITCH GET HIS ASS WOOOOO
(Sorry for the light mode jumpscare yet again, evidence is evidence)
1. Misgendering. What the fuck. (Dia's pronouns are they/them)
2. EW. Need I say more???
3. This post is how I found my main 3 sources up until Dia answered my ask
4. You'll start to see that this post and the following posts show that he's SPECIFICALLY targeting fem-adjacent blogs (including blogs that are run by enbies that he assumes identify as femme and promptly misgenders) and generally being a misogynistic and transphobic BITCH
This post is an example of Randy
A) Accusing a fellow minor of pedophilia (very carelessly and incorrectly might I add)
B) Not even getting their age right? Hello???
C) This kid clearly does NOT know what the difference between slang and genuine predatory behavior is which shows how fucking SHELTERED this kid must be oh my GOD
D) Another example of him misgendering and being misogynistic/transphobic
This post is more proof of him being misogynistic and sexually harassing people, and might I add a HORNY ASS PERVERT
Rabid is actually someone I followed way before all this dude, I'm guessing that's how Randy found me unfortunately
After this screenie Dia answered my ask, so all the screenies beyond this point are straight from the Google Doc (some had links to their original posts, some didn't for the sake of anonymity which is completely understandable)
This post backs up what I said regarding the other screenie where Randy assumed Lilith was like 20, istg this kid does NOT know what fact checking is holy fuck
This was a certified screenie I got from the Google Doc might I add
This post, another one provided by the Google Doc, is an example of him
A) Harassing TADC ask blogs (and it leading to harassing the mods)
B) Sexually harassing people and being misogynistic in general
He just doesn't know when to quit huh
(Sorry again for the light mode jumpscare this is the last one I promise)
This one didn't have a post linked to it so I only found it cus of the Google Doc (so yay ig you don't have to click the links to the OG posts for more info anymore beyond this point), the mod spitting FACTS
Once again lovingly provided by the Google Doc, wowee this kid sure loves slurs
Conclusion
I know this might not get to many people, but I'm hoping it at least has some sort of positive impact, because I want to try my best to warn as many people as possible and keep him from having any more influence than he already has.
To the victims involved in this: PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEE PLS PLS PLS LMK IF I NEED TO CHANGE ANYTHING I TRIED MY ABSOLUTE BEST TO BE AS ACCURATE AND RESPECTFUL TO YOU GUYS AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE I'D REALLY APPRECIATE FEEDBACK IF I GOT/DID SOMETHING WRONG
Thank you for reading my ramblies on this important news, have a cookie for getting this far and you're an LGBTQIA+ ally 🍪 (plus an additional scoop of ice cream if you're queer 🍦)
And Happy Pride Month, TRANS PRIDE BABYYY
Plus some Anti-Randy spray for the road (lovingly provided by Sunny and Lilith) ✨
(in case of any confusion, the colors kind of mean different things but not really, it's not that important- but red is for trigger warning stuffs/disclaimers and general important things, green is for section titles, blue is for links, and that's about it really-- and yes I did make a subtle RGB joke. Sue me, I wanna be at least a little funny to make light of all this grim dark stuffs. All those super super serious call-out posts can be kind of depressing so I want to find the happy middle ground between serious and lighthearted, it gets the message across and it still feels important without being too much of a downer yanno? Anyway do tell me your thoughts in the comments after dropping a reblog, I would appreciate feedback on what you think of my writing style here :3)
(Oh, and if you're wondering what purple means? It's a secret 🥰)
#randysworld-multi-fandom-fan/randysworld2009#yo gabba gabba#the amazing digital circus#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#murder drones#smg4#ygg#tadc#hh#hb#hv#hellaverse#md#super mario glitchy 4#psa#important#transgender#trans
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People are so fucking outrageous you take some time for yourself that you told us you were taking and now they're up in your asks demanding stuff tell them to pay you for it, sincerely someone who doesn't mind waiting for whatever you post
on god i literally spent the last few days driving hours on end and just got back yesterday, today is my first full day back home. and i've been traveling out of town for the outreach clinic i have to work at the next few weeks, and even then i've still been writing allskdjf
lmfao i don't want to shit on that anon too much, and i'm def not trying to be rude or anything, but i'm also going to hijack your ask real quick to address stuff since i do have quite a few new followers.
while some users might not mind questions regarding when someone is updating/if they have anything planned for an ongoing series, and things like that, i specifically have it in my rules to please not do that, which is why i got a little short with them even though they arguably weren't being rude or malicious (unlike a few anons in the past have when asking things like that). this one is especially annoying because it's been literally eight days since i last updated for that, and i have other series i've been working on! like even though i'm not posting for it, i've still written a couple thousand words for pet!au, and i just finished a chapter for in limbo i'll have up for early access here in a bit, and then on tumblr probably tomorrow or wednesday.
but mostly, the reason why i specifically request that people don't ask if i have plans/when i'm updating/if i'm updating something is because i literally have an irl life. i've been pretty open recently about how i've been traveling and the work i've been doing, it's not a secret or anything lmao. it just feels... tone deaf, you know? like you come into my inbox not talking about the work, or what you like about it, or otherwise engaging with it, but just to ask if i'm giving you more, like i didn't just do that a week ago. hell, even if it's been months or years that's still rude imo because if you like something enough, then you'd probably be doing more than just asking for more, ya know? at least that's how it comes across to me. and like i said before, some people really don't care, which is why i made sure to specify it in my rules, because i do care. it ruins my mood to write and create because then it feels like a chore and people are waiting on me just to consume it and then beg for more rather than tell me what they actually enjoyed about the work lmao.
anyway, no hard feelings against that anon at all, i'm sure they didn't mean anything by it, so please don't show them any hate or anything. but just use this as a reminder to read the rules of the blogs you interact with please. or at least don't be surprised when you do something that irks them and then they're annoyed at you because of it lmao.
sorry about the rant in the tags
#core responds#like i think i even wrote a little blurb in in answer about ps!gaz yesterday or something like that too#about his breeding kink lmao#and like how else am i supposed to respond to that type of ask besides yes or no?#like i'm not going to spoil what i have planned#that was also supposed to be a fun little series to work on inbetween my larger projects#and now it feels like a chore!#i'm glad you all love the man but#you act like i haven't written 22 things for him since april#i am not an endless content machine and that's what those asks make me feel like!!!#also why do i get those asks RIGHT when i start talking about something else?#like my mafia au?#speaking of that#i actually forgot to add a lot of my mafia au drabbles to my 2024 works#i'm actually at a 180k words for this year!#so literally!!!#i am writing so fucking much!#180k words in a little over 5 months!!!#and it's still “are you writing more”#fucking hell#okay rant over i've got like 5k words of in limbo to edit#actually no not over#i wrote literally 3k fucking words today#imagine working all day and being proud of yourself and posting about it and someone has to come in and be like “but what about this series#what about it bro?#i'll fucking get to it#i get you don't have to read every series i put out but let me work at my own damn pace#okay rant over for real now otherwise i will lose my marbles
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i did not know you were following me your eddy/chrissy work makes me emo but in a good way
<3 thank you, I promise yours does the exact same to me. I don't know if I can pick a favourite eddissy fic of yours but the words you read (my heart's been displayed) has been living rent free in my head since I read it
Thanks so much for reading put your lips close to mine! I'm glad you like it!
#honestly not sure i've ever had so much fun writing for another fandom#all of you are so kind and welcoming#i was intimidated to write stranger things fic but now I have no regrets#especially because amazing authors interact with me like this? like?? i have followed hearjessroar since her jatp days#(bc tay kept sending me their fics and they were all so good)#so this is just. blowing my mind#anyway thank you lovely <3#edssy#eddissy#put your lips close to mine#<- look guys i have a fic tag now! I just went with this one#so if you want updates for it then that is the tag to follow#but thank you again i've been squealing over this ask since i got it#hearjessroar#any followers of mine who haven't read their stuff yet pls go do so#it's very very good
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could you make a moodboard that smells like cloves, and old books?
i feel like that’s a really weird way to ask that but also the only way i can explain it? Masc, please!
Please and thank you!
Definitely!!
#this one turned out so cute!#i hope this is the vibe you wanted#the description kinda sounds like dark academia!#anyway#I JUST HIT 300 FOLLOWERS#?!#that's so crazy#as always idk how to make a real post for this so im sticking it in the tags#sorry sam for using your request as an update post#anyway i love you all#I'm still sick sadly but I'm working on it!#moodboard#sfw agere#sfw interaction only#age regression#agere#sfw littlespace#agere moodboard#that was so many tags#i rambled for too long
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Going to do a Nevermoor series reread in June + July + August ? if anyone else also wants to do a reread around that time, could be fun to have more of the fandom prepping for Silverborn
Did initially make a roadmap plan to split the books up into weeks on top of already being months, so that people could focus on specific parts and discuss each week….. but between the fact that I messed it up the first time, Silverborn kept getting delayed as I planned it, and I’m actually really bad at keeping to stuff like that (looking at you, Silverborn Countdown Challenge…) I’m deciding to just go for it at whatever pace happens.
#will def be June/July but we’ll have to see if I get into August. may want to keep most of that + September as Silverborn Hype Months lol#nevermoor#silverborn#if you ever followed my rereads thoughts masterpost for my (reread?) eternal reread and wondered ‘why no hollowpox’? boy is it a doozy#beginning of the year Apple Books updated and I’m not huge on it!#and since I couldn't fix I decided I would try and delete and reinstall the app.....#…..forgetting that my books and notes are tied to the app and not saved otherwise…..#so I lost all my notes INCLUDING all my reactions and thoughts from my very first reread that I was excited to look back on and share 🥲😭😭😭#so I’ve just been in mourning and never continued out of my personal beef with the app….#so this time I think I’ll take use of all my different physical copies and read them physically to give myself a break from screens lol#this summer is just grindset time of getting back into drawing and trying to get good so this reread I also want to draw stuff alongside#like try to nail some character designs and such to make it easier for Silverborn lol#I fear I will need to figure out how to draw dragons……#anyways. if you’ve read all these tags you are now required to join in on the reread with me 🫵#this also reminds me I need to keep working / actually work on the nine spreadsheet / masterpost. will do that ✍️#I have had several drafts saved of posts I want to respond to with theories that I’ve been saving for my hollowpox reread that now I’m like#do I just save them for Silverborn?? lol
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im sorry to say, that by ignoring the plague of apollo, you have doomed the danaans to further misery. Farewell my bitch
#apollo#agamemnon#book 1#update here cause new post and all! thank you to the anon who informed me about a slur in a prior post#i was not familiar with the term and def shouldve checked it out and changed it before turning the dril tweet around to fit everything here#the fact that it is a dril tweet itself though is….hm#anyways! apologies! the post has been edited#all this is reminding me again is that i should be making more posts and just following the format cause. this is not the first time#that ive encountered very offensive tweets#i havent done it in a hot bit though cause im fairly busy with work now. gonna start phasing the tweet based ones out again soon#also. please inform me if anyone at all finds anything on here that i should tag or edit in the future#i really dont want this to be a place of pain of any kind (other than war crimes)#and ive been running this since i was like…14 so there is likely bound to be smth that should be revisited
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EO3 (partial) lineup - November-December 2022
Peak MAbo is collaborating with your best friend for a(n admittedly unfair) final project (for web development!!!! an elective!!!), saying you would post it, forgetting about it for a year, posting it on Artstation and forgetting about it again.
As always, AC drew the lineart, and I colored. Designs were more of a collaborative effort between the two of us!
Probably should have shared this when the HD collection came out... anyway it's here now!
Some design ramblings under the cut :0! There's a lot i wanna share especially given that we recently did a soft rewrite that departed from the guild system entirely ^^" and EO3's cast was actually one of the first that we had, surprisingly!
Micah is quite clearly alt gladiator 3, but in an entirely different profession. instead of going into the labyrinth, he works in what i imagine would be an analogue to the forge in Tharsis (aka helping people make things busted af). It probably works best for his character, since he was always a gizmo freak even in his first iteration! geomagnetic (or submagnetic, ugh) gizmo is AC's idea!
Micah's brother, Eva, is a very loose spin on zodiac 3, but with a wayyyy lighter colour palette. Admittedly, i did steal a little bit of the spiritmaster's coat from bravely default, but AC managed to spin it back to resembling the original coat that the class had. Eva works as an astronomer, hence the little telescope he always has on him.
Next up we have Eva's protégé, Miri (who was imported from AC's stories)! Theoretically, Miri would be a second zodiac, and, after watching some EO3 speedruns, would probably be really strong in the earlygame when working with Eva in an actual playthrough. AC's design heavily borrows from Patho II's Grace, hence the coat + dress combo.
Following Miri in this lineup would be Noa, her admittedly very lazy but clingy sibling. I think it's apparently here that we didn't have much time to filter what a believable design would be in an EO setting, given that Noa's clothes were translated directly from our designs of them in school attire. It's actually funny how for we diverged from their original portrait (buccaneer 3) to the point that she is literally unrecognizable. Truly a pipeline from good sea boy to j-horror twist character.
Last in the OC section would be Masaru, who recently found work for the Senatus. Admittedly he does have another example of "incongruent time period" clothing (the jacket), though it's a lot more reworkable than Noa. We also made his design a lot less poofy and rugged compared to the original, and I mixed the base and alt color palettes as well to make him less, well, glaringly red. Probably one of the funnier things is that his clothing palette made him blend in more with the likes of Kujura, but given that they work for the same place, it'll probably work out fine.
Now we go onto NPCs, and who better to start than with Flowdia! Admittedly, her art was one of the last ones that we did, hence why her design looks relatively plain (sorry lola). Probably one of the things I would like to add would be more ornate patterns, perhaps of butterflies to tie her closer to Gutrune!
Before we get to the Princess, we gotta get through her bodyguard first! >:0 I honestly don't like Kujura because I answered honestly in his first question, and he said that I was prideful, but AC likes him so he looks really good here. He isn't as rendered here as he is in his portrait, since he was also one of the last characters we made, and I didn't really get to notice that he doesn't have as much value contrast in his clothing as Masaru does. Probably something to think about next time I color him >:0
Next up we have Gutrune!! We decided to make her look more jellyfish-like, while still keeping it a bit uncanny and unsettling. We tried to give her a more traditionally Filipiniana look (mostly on the Maria Clara gown), but we haven't yet made a poncho design that mixes well with butterfly sleeves without looking cluttered. As such, she has a more nightdress-y look here. AC drew in a few tentacles, and I couldn't help but make them look squishy.
Last but not least is Olympia! We wanted to align her appearance more with her background, hence her altered design :0 Having rips of the artbook easily accesible online also helped us flesh out her hair in particular, since we didn't want to just transplant Gutrune's hairstyle onto her.
And that's all of them!!! I'm honestly hoping to draw more EO characters, though Seyfried's design scares me (honestly the reason why I couldn't make a Reversed Emperor comic).
Currently, I've made a lot of progress on the EO4 game, and I'm excited to draw up the three N-turned-PCs + Xiuan >:'0!!! I don't think I can ever get as cool as Morika tho. If you've come this far and aren't into EO, please check out their blog!! Their art is stunning and has come a really long way :")
#etrian odyssey#etrian odyssey 3#etrian odyssey iii#idylls of the abyssal forest#gawang abo#colorist#noa minjin#miranda minjin#gutrune#olympia#kujura#flowdia#micah abdelghani#eva abdelghani#I'LL GIVE THEM SURNAMES WHEN I NEED TO#honestly why i never got to finalize work on the CR x RGU series is not just because I wanted to animate it#but also because i had to give the students surnames#like ye they're ~10 characters but surnames don't come easy to me >:'000#and i'm super particular with names so :AAA:#issa trap i'd rather sidestep entirely#also if you follow me for CR... hi i'm sorry but i reverted back to my oldest brainrot to cope with thesis + the new game updates#NOT TO SAY THE NEW UPDATES ARE BAD#but i realized i cared more about crafting a story than following along the trail of another :")#i still want to work on the CR stories and animate them and put them up!#it's just that i need time to recoup i guess#community is also really buck wild. I don't think i ever got over the whiplash of them saying “we will not play *ends up excited anyway*”#it's ok if u enjoy it naman but the speed in which they get stoked for updates was like “:”D? i thought we were protesting. what y'all doin#i'm sorry if u read thru all these tags and saw me processing my trauma with the cr fandom#i'm doing a lot better now!!! please have a good day as well and take care of yourself!#EDIT 04.27.2024 THEY ALL HAVE SURNAMES. HURRAH!
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Does the fact that DP now has an official canon continuation affect you while working on the comic
Like does the new canon stuff influence your own vision or has your vision for your reboot remained the same since you started?
Sorry it's taken so long to answer so I'll match with a long answer and update in my process, I'm so sorry lol
But no, an official canon continuation will not stop me from making the comic. And while I do own the new comic and plan on getting all the future official DP merch I can get my hands on, it wont effect my story in the slightest because I haven't read it. Plus I've already written my story and I'm very happy with it. I will someday read the new comic but not anytime soon, I'm just so happy it exists and that it's in my hands either way.
What might stop me (for a little bit at least) is a full on rebooted series, not a continuation/revival because the fandom has been around so long and we've all influenced each other in big or little ways. And since we're all playing in the same sandbox there's naturally some overlap. But this started as a pitch bible/proof of concept for a full on reboot of my own and if there's an active reboot airing I'd be very sad it wasn't mine (so silly I know lol but it's true).
What has stopped me is the a back and forth issue I have on the comic in general. I have found a style of comic I enjoy making, but I have gotten in my own head about it being stiff and bad. I know practice make progress and I'm getting more confident about it and also considering making it into a fic with art and slowly adapting it into a comic just so I can have some thing to post and put out there. But my iPad is dying and outside of sketches on paper I haven't been able to write or draw to the extent I'd like. I've been saving for a new one for a while now and about half way there but life happens and it takes a toll on my savings.
So I'm trying to decide what's the best way to proceed and I have a lot of options and that's also a little overwhelming, which sounds silly typing out. But it's easy for me to feel guilt every time I try to commit to one game plan because all my best options rely on me getting a new iPad
#ask me anything#danny phantom reboot planning#going ghost comic#goingghostcomic#its been hard saving for an ipad lol#i have to take care of bills and my mom#plus im slowly getting merch to open a shop#and hopefully that'll help too#all ipad time i can get has been to prep merch for sale#im at over 40k words at the halfway point of my second detailed draft#one more sweep and it might be fic ready#i just haven't decided whats the best route to take because I have SO MUCH in the concept and rough stages still#i might be bitching and moaning in the tags about money#but im sure as hell not going to ask for it unless I have something solid and tangible in return#but this is why my art production has functionally halted#sorry for using your ask as an infodump update#ive been hesitant to make one because I dont want to let anyone down#not you or my followers or myself
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fyi for those who came to my blog because of my carmen sandiego/she-ra posts: i'm into this funny little horror project called welcome home which you may have seen around/heard about. it's been a major obsession/hyperfix of mine since i found out about it in april of last year. there's going to be an update to welcome home's website - like a major update for the first time since last july - on friday, march 1 (this friday!!). just. prepare yourselves for the enslaught of welcome home content. thank you for your time
edit: fuck. (the update got delayed by a whole ass week. new day to prepare yourselves for is march 8. kill me.)
#em rambles#welcome home#please be aware of this new mutuals/followers whom i have gained via my carmen sandiego posts#liveblogging may come to a hold#not a complete stop per say#(i usually get my daily carmen sandiego watch in while i'm walking on the treadmill which is a daily/almost daily thing for me so like-)#(-i'll still be watching it for the 50 minutes i take to walk)#but there will be a decrease in the amount of cs posts i make#y'all can filter tags/post content if you want i don't mind#but this is just a huge heads up because i KNOW the update will plunge me right back into my welcome home hyperfix
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