#the same way they did not respect the academicals you cannot love. This. This is far from love actually. Very.
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Insanity is substantially better than dumbassery, fucks.
#people stick around. And they will remember the fucked up shit you do. Nothing you can do changes that.#I never led you around. you did that yourself.#You think you are so entitled to me that I am obliged to give you whatever you want you trust fund baby#Like all other people including you in that hellhole school. fuck. a doctorate would not justify cruelty. In the same way my age and gender#does not entitle you to anything.#the same way they did not respect the academicals you cannot love. This. This is far from love actually. Very.#the same way actual knowledge involves thinking and not simply acquiring thy holy notes of your university#people pay for a reason my god. They make that choice for themselves and are willing to pay the money because they find it suitable#for themselves in that they will have as much to gain from learning in an institution as they are willing to fork out cash. because this is#not cheap at all. Money does not grow on trees. And capitalism is a bitch. Your privilege of wealth does not change this fact either.#Or the fact that hey. We actually do things.#If learning were really that linear and following only this and this and that and pieces of specifically gatekept books and such#that would be a cult. But oh no. You need that. To feel important. You abuse that knowledge that you seek only to justify things that are#wrong but the books say is right. But what book are you following then. And why are you following it like you have no actual genuine choice#because you can. Except. Not in this world today. And not to the majority of us people either because bitch#we can think.#you do and say certain things like a rite of process and think that makes you god and gives you your mothafucking waifu.#just like the book says the passage can only have one meaning. That is a cult. If it did we would have no art.#just like the book says dictatedly math is an equation with different numbers at the front that you must solve by reproducing workings that#arent new. theyre just variations of what other people tell you to do. But math isnt following instructions. Its a system of laws and#bindings. but these bindings dont bind you. The same way the tool doesnt use and define what you make with it. You use the tool.#And you did not because you cannot. You can't. You aren't that capable. Because you don't even want to do anything.#Now who's truly lazy you fucks.
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—RING RING!!
Say hello to our Operator Number One, and A Fan-Favourite:
── .˳⁺⁎˚ This caller seems to be into Humiliation and Generalised Behaviour of a Male Thot
── .˳⁺⁎˚ Geto Suguru — Starring in ⌞Valedicktorian⌝
Synopsis: your favourite academic rival, he wants to respect you, he really does—but he just prefers seeing you cry more.
— Word count: 5.4k
— A/n: I know I know, we all love a cocky lil shit that my man is <3 and tagging @romiyaro @blkkizzat @driaswrld becauseeee I can <3333 (+this was supposed to be way longer but haha)+i know it's supposed to be more smut and kinky than story line but :( I apparently cannot do that
— Warnings: Smut!!MDNI!!AFAB! Fem Reader x Suguru; teasing on both parts; dubious methods of going along a lot of things; Suguru is almost like a soft Dom; hints at spitting; Suguru eats reader out through her panties; reader almost gives Suguru a strip tease or smn like that; Suguru is a cocky bitch; emphasis on academic validation somewhat; smut begins late; reader is a virgin; Oral (fem receiving)
~November Beginning~
[8:03 a.m.]
Your eyes scanned the board fast, alone you stood towards the first corner—aware all too well you’d never even fall below
the first row.
Rank Marks Allotted
Y/n L/n [Valedictorian] 97/100
Suguru Geto [Salutatorian] 91/100
You didn’t bother lowering your eyes any further—a huge grin remained etched on your smile as you rocked back and forth about your Position, waiting for him to drop by.
Eyes flitted simply through the screen of your phone—mindless swipes, mindless likes passed on Instagram as you patiently, a whole wait of 7 minutes, you counted—how so very careless.
You beamed as his silhouette came into view, and his best friend’s right beside—lanky, they both stood, you never cared enough.
“You’re late,” you murmured as he shoved past you—an audible grown let out even though he just knew with the way you stood, that he was beat again.
But this time the difference stood of a worthy 6 points—just 6, how easily that he could’ve had you.
Satoru simply cackled beside him—indulging you with the very complicated handshake he and you had designed in the first year of your college.
“You're both stupid,” he, satoru, grinned, “I barely passed and that's so sick,” you simply chuckled at his words—joy emerging more so at Suguru’s annoyance.
“You’ve got the scholarship from your football team Toru’, unfortunately for us—6 marks make a huge difference,”
“6 marks don't matter,” Suguru grumbled, a frown lay upon his lips — “we’re not kids-”
“-except you will cry like a kid when you go back to your dorm because 6 points was what stopped ya from Rank 1,”
A smirk you bore—he wanted to drill it out of you so bad.
“The only crying that goes off in my dorm are the girls I bring about,” he smirk was his this time, your face twisted in disgust.
“And had you spent that time actually studying maybe you'd have gotten somewhere—and is that a confession that you’re that bad a fuck?”
He was tall, but the certain way he towered over most was amusing–not you though, never you.
Equals, in most senses of the word.
“But then,” you continued, and grinned wide—“don't suppose two minutes could've saved you from anything.”
A brow he raised, “you've been learning insults from middle schoolers—and what would your virgin ass even know?”
Jaw clenched you stared, Suguru Geto had realized your insecurity quick back in the first year—exploiting to all ends possible.
“Maybe you should try learning from them, gonna help you with grades and STDs,” a thin smile you wore, a thin smile he did too.
“At the end of the day, we both get the same grade, same gpa and probably the same job offers,” he paused—staring at your face—you took your chance, “And yet you’ll always remember that I was the one that beat you to the first place.”
A wink you passed, a clenched jaw he stilled.
—.—.—
[1:10 p.m.]
The semester was finally over—Satoru’s parties galore.
A tradition almost, celebration of his, scoring marks enough to pass—an ‘ode’ he deemed it, to you and Suguru for tutoring him together.
More so just an attempt to to spew you both together, failing just as always.
“You’re gonna show up tonight doll?” Satoru asked—eyes staring at your face from beneath—head placed in your lap, feet in Suguru’s lap as you both read books that couldn’t have been more neglected when the tension between the two fell so high. .
A hummed you passed, “Will you let me say no?”
A snort Satoru let out, answer all too obvious.
You sighed, “Tonight, sure but I have some projects to catch up and-”
“-perfect,” Satoru interrupted, all to your annoyance, “hm?”
“Suguru has some remaining too, right?”
Interested piqued slow and with a topic that deepened his natural frown, he—Suguru stared at you.
“I’m in mood for help from her,”
Eyes narrowed, you scowled, “yes well I’m not offering any either ways,”
“Not like you could,”
“Says the- ah!”
A sharp yelp you couldn’t help when Satoru pinched your side in midst of your banter—Something in Suguru found the noise adorable—he hated this little something, “excuse you?”
“You wouldn’t shut up otherwise, right?” A bashful smile he held, and so it happened you just couldn’t hold him guilty, an eye roll and you paused.
“Whatever, I’ll show up tonight but don’t hold me up for the rest of the week ok?”
“As you wish, doll,” a sharp edge Satoru held to his words, invoking a sense of alert in both you and Suguru—neither daring to consult the other.
-
[7:55 p.m.]
“And who exactly are we wearing this piece for huh?” Shoko’s eyes fell on you hard—“Who’s got you that hooked?”
A roll of your eyes, “Just wanted to feel cute is all,” you muttered under your breath—and that was mostly true.
It’s wasn’t such that you’d found someone, nor were you dressing to impress, but then, it was out of spite in some sense.
His words rang in your head- in wasn’t an insult really, being a virgin was fine, it was ok, but you hated even the littlest ‘advantage,’ that he could hold on you.
And so you trudged it on, the little black skirt that Satoru gifted you, so small you’d initially kept it only as a joke—and oh how the turn tables.
The top wouldn’t stand any better at all, almost sheer it lay—a floral print to keep what little of your modesty you wanted to show.
Pathetic and desperate, you called yourself, for turning about so easily—pathetically desperate however, you wanted Suguru to be.
-
[8:15 p.m.]
A step into his mansion, a wolf whistle greeted you.
“Shut up Satoru,” you mumbled, a shy smile playing on your lips—almost guilty, “I know it’s not for me, so who’re you dressed to impress?”
A heat caught up slow on your face at Satoru’s words.
Your eyes landed on Suguru who came sauntering just beside him—jaw clenched at just the sight of him, the perfect way his jean jacket clung to him, “And why couldn’t I dress up for you?”
Satoru’s smirk only grew, all too aware of the hostility and the sexual tension that Suguru and you’d fostered—his biggest mystery lying in the way that it was third year of your college degree and you still hadn’t fucked the lights of each other.
A wink, charismatic, most would say, “because you know I prefer you without anything on princess,”
Had you not known Satoru you’d have probably been disgusted, but wonderous what two years of being together did to a person and their adaptations—and you wondered just why you hadn’t adapted to his black haired best friend.
A soft punch on his arm, you shook your head with a smile, “Really though, you look gorgeous—right Suguru?”
Your eyes moved slow, hesitant almost to meet his, “Yeah sure,” he shrugged casually, and just a little your heart hurt too.
Pathetic.
“You don’t look half bad,” you spoke still, adamant to be the bigger person—adamant to have something going.
He eyed you for a second, then another—a scoff, “what’s up with that top? Fix it please- you look like a slut,”
Silence, the music blaring almost stunned out.
Your face burned, heart all the more—a baffled “what?” Escaped your lips—and possibly Satoru’s, you weren’t sure
You weren’t sure if anything there on..
A roll of his eyes caught you off guard further, heart beat racing despite you when he leaned a little towards you, “if you’re going to try dressing like a prostitute, carry it with confidence—do you have any idea how many guys have been staring? Your boobs are practically falling from in there,”
You hated it, hated his words, his demeanor, his proximity—the way you almost found it endearing that he looked away when you tried your best to fix it, the way he almost ‘shielded’ you from anyone looking at you weird.
You hated it all.
“I don’t need you to ‘watch out’ for me,” you spat—Satoru lay forgotten in the moment, maybe he’d slipped moments ago—had he been there at all?
“Not looking out for you doll, just sayin it doesn’t suit ya,” you wanted to thank the dimmed down lighting, your tears were at the brink of falling, you wanted to punch him.
“What would you know what suits me and what doesn’t,” shaky a voice, drowned by the loud music—a smirk Suguru adorned, “think your rival would pay enough attention on you to know what suits you and what doesn’t,” his grinned only ever widened as he stepped back to stand beside you, “but sure, you do look fuckable,”
Jaw clenched, your eyes stared at each other, “whatever,” a shrug you passed, retired.
“Wait,” and wait you did, persistently at his words, “I’m assuming you don’t know most people here, given you’re the pretty nerd-”
“-do you have anything of material to say or should I go?”
The annoyance lay naked, so did the hurt in your voice.
Suguru was perceptive, perfect in the way his eyes trailed down your body, “I’m just saying, tag along with me—don’t want no accidents happening to my nerd,”
“You’re a nerd too,” a scoff, yours, “that’s what you caught from the whole statement?” A chuckle, his.
You bit the inside of your cheek hard, a mindless nod as you let him hold your hand, unsure of it entirely but never more certain that it was the right thing.
His nerd.
-
[8:45 p.m.]
“You drink?” A shake of your head and a sigh, his, “Really are a goody two shoes huh?”
A scoff you passed at his words, “Nothing goody two shoes about it, just that I don’t like the taste and-”
A snort interrupted you, “Pardon, the taste? Alright then, let me order my doll a strawberry milkshake,”
Your scrunched face only ever helped his face concort with laughter further, “I’m not your doll, or nerd or nothing. Don’t call me yours.” yours Words all too defiant, he smirked.
“Eh?” A pause, heavy, “Don't remember hearing objection for when you’re with Satoru,”
You bit the inside of your cheek-how exactly could he make everything so tough?
“Satoru’s a friend,”
“I'm not?”
You grinned, the lighting lay dim—his smile a blur, as was yours — “You're nothing more than competition,”
A grin, his too, “Ouch—after we spend so much time?”
“What, you enjoy it? You're masochistic too huh?”
“If you're the one who's gonna be torturing me doll,” a wink he offered, you bit the inside of your cheek, as insufferable as always.
However before a retort would fall, before your grin would broaden, before his smirks would lighten—“Here’s your milk shake ma’am!”
An internal groan and a condescending little, “be a good girl and finish it all up for me doll,”
A groan- which bartender even agreed to make milkshakes? At parties? At night?
Your eyes scanned the tag he kept attached, Toji F.
-
[11:44 p.m.]
“Suguru,” your words were frenzied, grip tightening on his arm—eyes moving over the surrounding crowd, “I don’t wanna play,”
Drunk.
The usual it was, late the party started and ended up almost at the next morning, you could hear Satoru Hollering down in the background, eyes narrowed down onto the group of your peers that sat in a circle.
Truth and Dare, the tradition.
Everyone you laid eyes upon, drunk, you were sure Suguru himself stood slightly tipsy, saved for your sake entirely, “Cmon,” his words a drag, “It’s just truth and dare, what’s the worst that can happen?”
And you knew well, that was exactly how all the bad teenage movies began.
“Everything, please, let me go if you wanna continue, that’s alright-”
“-no, can’t let you go,” you smiled slightly at the little pout on his face, adorable he surely was when drunk.
“Yes you can, I can walk back from here you know-”
Sudden, all too sudden he pushed you slight, pinned to the wall.
Words interrupted by his weight shifting onto you, your eyes widened at the closeness- “Won’t let you go alone, too many creeps,” a sincere nod was all you could pass, mouth dry and heart racing—he smirked.
“You like this?”
A shake of your head—another pout from him.
“You lie too much,” he murmured against your form, a hand placed softly on your waist—never moving an inch—“you would do well with a round of truth and dare actually,”
You giggled at his words, heart racing fast still as his hot breath fanned over you, “What if I just choose dare?”
Closer, somehow, he only seemed to move closer.
“You’re too chicken to do that,”
“But what if?”
“Do you?”
“Maybe”
“Ok,” he paused—stepping back, “here’s child’s play for you,” the smile he held now was concerning in ways—you didn’t mind it, “I dare you that if I manage to score better than you in the next semester, you have yo do everything I say for a good one day,”
You couldn’t help the laugh you let out at that.
“You have a thing for losing huh?”
A scoff, an eye roll—why was everything from him gorgeous?
“It’s a dare babe, take it or leave it,”
“Sure thing Suguru,”
“Atta girl,”
—.—.—
The tension was held high, the second semester was to end soon—you weren't all so tensed for that, however something did bother you.
Suguru Geto, for the first time that your eyes had seen, was studying.
Day in and day out, the library was where most people would find you—not Suguru Geto, certified fucker of the batch.
“Pass me the book when you’re done please,” your eyes narrowed at the tone, so damn sweet , “please,” uttered so carefully, you wanted to punch him for no reason.
“Of course,” you smiled back politely, wanting to be anything but so.
your eyes flickered over to Satoru—grinning as he texted the girl he met at the party.
“Why don’t you teach Satoru a lil something too though? He could use your help,” it was a constant, you and your little comments, hell bent on distracting Suguru, hell bent on getting more study time than him—hell bent on winning that particular bet.
He’d been drunk, you were hoping he’d have forgotten—hopes always lay crushed, for in the certain way he grinned when he looked at you, it meant something, surely a promise of winning from him.
Suguru Hummed as he always did—hostility between the two of you hadn’t ebbed exactly but it was bearable—he made it bearable, simply readjustments.
Ever since the party, you weren’t sure if you liked the change or no.
You weren’t sure if it was because of the lies Satoru fed you about him wanting you — or the half truths Your heart screamed, of Suguru wanting to screw you.
However, not being rivals never equated to being friends—obvious in the way not even his begging had softened your heart to lend him your notes.
“Why don’t you? Seem pretty done with the outline of it,”
You bit the inside of your cheek, pertaining a gaze on you softly, he grinned, “Too busy to let a friend fail?”
A defiant ‘yes’ you muttered, eyes stuck on Suguru- adding a little, “we’re not friends,” but pausing as the long fingers moved, long fingers reaching out to give you a note—“what’s that?”
He grinned as he shrugged, but before you could open the little piece of paper, folded all so carefully, “ah ah ah,” he chuckled, “open it outside,”
And you did—walking away with a huf—decided that the library was no longer just your spot, not a glance shared with Satoru, focused all so much at the objective of hogging as much study material as you could for the exam.
A sharp inhale though, annoyance seeping in as you viewed the message on the white piece of paper, decorated with all so many hearts, “Good luck losing, doll-face.”
—.—.—
~Night before the Exam~
“You’re sick for this, you know,” Satoru’s words rang in his head, he scoffed, maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t.
How could it even matter?
The flashlight remained tucked between his arms, working, quick, eyes scanning over the question paper as he stood in the Dean’s Office.
Being a good student, trusted student of course had it perks—the security cameras just somehow malfunctioning could be no coincidence either.
And then again, he wouldn’t cheat a lot, just enough, just to beat you — just enough.
-
And so the next day, while your confident farce broke just a little to see him ask for more sheets than you, to see him write longer—to see him almost do the exam better than you, something told you that the bet wasn’t made in vain, Suguru Geto was a man of plans.
—.—.—
~1st December~
You were sure you’d left before him, before anyone—as always.
And yet, just the way your stomach twisted when you saw his figure standing by the notice board—his grinning face—that was all it took for you to realize that something wasn’t right.
“The fuck are you grinning for?” The nervousness was obvious—Suguru loved it.
“Mind the language love,” he mused—stepping aside, letting your eyes find their own horror.
Rank Marks Allotted
Suguru Geto [Valedictorian] 95/100
Y/n L/n [Salutatorian] 94/100
And oh how he loved the way your face fell, how he loved the green in your eyes and the red tint of your of your burning ears.
“The test was hard though so you know-” the glint of victory all so evident, “-shut up,” you huffed.
“Shut the fuck up—it’s just-”
“-just one mark? Yeah, no.” He snickered behind you, “and ah? Aren’t you the one supposed to be doing what I say? No more teetering me about, doll,” a wink, a shiver up your spine.
He wasn’t wrong.
“Whatever, what do you want? Laundry done or what? Breakfast-”
Suguru’s head tilted to the side, adorably, as if a puppy’s, “you think that’s bad? Oh jeez y/n,” he grinned, “somebody’s in for a surprise?”
And before the realizations of what something worse had to be, before a retort could befall your lips, Suguru Geto had spoken once more—voice defiant, “To my dorm, now.”
The wind around you was cold, yes but chilly was the sensation you felt down your spine.
-
The room was organised, books on the right shelf, mangas on the left—his family photo on the right corner of the desk and a poster of his favorite baseball team right in front.
Nothing you would ever find your room as—scrawled up notes lay shoved in every corner—silly gifts from friends and a pile of unwashed coffee cups.
The contrast was thorough.
Your eyes bore into his, his into your figure-“what do you- why are we here?”
Suguru glared for a second, “what did you think would happen when you lost?”
Not this.
Or, well.
You’d assumed Suguru would use his chance to embarrass you, thoughts were quick though, infested you sat through seconds and hours, days even—thoughts of Suguru Geto and your “humiliation”.
It wasn’t that you wanted to lose, but you wouldn’t have minded—and so a blind eye was all you had to offer when Satoru dropped the keys to the dean’s office—a deaf ear turned when you heard him bragging of the plan to his girls, a stifled laugh when Suguru smacked his head for talking too much.
But now that the situation lay bared, maybe, just maybe it wasn’t the best situation to be in.
Maybe, the nervousness finally crept into the skin—maybe, you realised, maybe you shouldn’t have.
Fortunately or not though, Suguru was perceptive as he was caring—somewhat, “Don’t be nervous, I’m not gonna- you know,” he grinned, thoughts pertaining to your imagination—you didn’t like where and why it lead to everything it did.
Suguru hummed as he walked about, you stood all so awkward in the middle of his room—a hand patted the space next to him on his bed, “come on up here doll,”
You didn’t want to, but oh how the feet moved before they could stop.
“I don’t want to,” he smiled, soft, “well, you do realize what I want, right?”
A gulp, “I’ve never-”
“-I know,” he paused, “I’m not gonna force you into it, only if you wanna-”
You did want to, hell if there was anyone you wanted to trust, it would forever be Suguru Geto somehow.
“What if I say no?”
“Then feel free to just lounge about, I’d love talking to you,”
Heart pace quickened, you licked your lips—“I thought you- you’d make me…”
“Not a monster doll, not gonna do nothing you don’t want,” and just then you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face too, fuck, you really were into him huh?
A bite of your lips, a giggle his—“I think…I think you’ve won fair and square,”
Another small giggle, and boy was everything he did adorable—“you know I cheated-” you bobbed your head, and oh how he was down bad for you too.
“C’mere,”
-
15 minutes in, you’d already taken off your rings—the rules of the game Suguru wanted you to play were simple.
“You’re too smart for your own good,” he’d chuckled, “but, s’not gonna help today,” a book lay in his hands— “I ask the questions and you answer, for every wrong answer you strip, take off one piece of clothing,”
A grin you passed, “of course,” you’d snickered—sitting across him.
“What is my favorite color?” A brow you raised, confused still as to why Suguru even bothered opening the book which read, “NEUROROBOTICS” when all he bothered asking were stupid questions with stupider answers.
“It’s…white? Or uh, blue?” Shots in the dark, all wrong—what pained you though were his answers—“nu uh,” he grinned, “take something off again, and better not tease me again,” you giggled.
The last two questions were just trivial as this, about him, and you’d answered them right too—except he just didn’t accept them at all.
You cursed internally, for skipping wearing socks because as of now you you were debating for the crucial options, the jeans or the top.
Suguru grinned, “my favorite color’s that though, you know when you blush,” you groaned at his words—chuckling along with him because frankly, when had you ever ‘blushed’ for him at all.
Your eyes moved fast, the top it was.
His eyes were sharp, stuck onto your form, pulled right over your head—Suguru was loving his day.
“White huh?” he grinned, your face burned at the way he stared at your Lacy white bra, “it is my favorite color after all,”
“Ask the next question” you snapped—hand reaching for a pillow to help yourself.
Suguru’s smile was soft, “ok, how about…how long have you wanted to fuck me?”
It physically made you uncomfortable to how hot the tip of your ears had gotten.
“No point lying, since we're both here to fuck anyways,”
You pursed your lips, it was true but then—“since the beginning of this year,”
Suguru chuckled at that, clicking his tongue—“the pants now?” your face dropped, it was risky—it would be a first, and with the way Suguru sat fully dressed, humiliating.
“I'm not lying-”
“Liar,”
“I'm not-”
“I'll make ya take off two pieces if you keep this up,”
Two- pants and either of your bra perhaps, or panties, neither seemed better than the other.
A retired ‘ok,’ you choked out, scoffing at how he smirked when your fingers moved in to pull the pants down, slow—“what's the correct answer?”
“The day you first saw me,”
You despised the way he was correct.
Pushed down your legs and thrown aside your pants lay—your eyes and Suguru’s, trailed up all the way to your calves.
“Matching set? You wanted this to happen hm?”
And you despised the experience and knowledge he had—his gaze remained stuck on the white Lacy panties you'd decided to wear.
For him.
How scandalous.
“Continue the game,” Suguru grinned—”how long have I wanted to fuck you?”
Your mouth ran dry—oh?
“The beginning of the semester?” you guessed, truthfully, heartbeat fastening when he smirked—”you have no idea how long I've wanted you here, like this,”
He stood close now, very close, his hand itself moving to unclasp your bra—warm breath fanning your face, “how long?” you whispered.
“Forever. Since I saw you,”
A giggle you let out—“you- no way, you simp,”
A giggle, his—“and there, you ruined the moment,”
A giggle, together.
“Let me see?” Suguru murmured, pulling away softly, slowly the pillow off of your form—finally, the bra pulled away too—his hands held your breasts softly.
You were sure though, the nervousness all too evident in your face, “easy, I'll take care of you,”
You passed a nod in response— biting your lips as the way his hands squeezed you, held you—his thumb rolling onto your nipples—half hardened they stood already in the chilly air of his room.
“You're damn gorgeous,” he whispered- lips pressed against yours, fingers massaging your boobs carefully, “fuck I- you've never?”
A swift shake of your head, “mm’ gonna corrupt you tonight ok?”
And just like that, pushed down to your back you lay, “spread your legs doll,”
And you did, pace fastening as he leaned into the spot between your legs, hand lingering on your inner thigh—“are you turned on?” the smirk on his face was telling, of course you were, “got turned on thinking what I would do to you? Aren't you just the cutest?”
You were inexperienced, sure, but you weren't going to let him tease you all so much-“hurry it up I- hah!”
Or maybe you would, you didn't know.
A soft gasp interrupted your words quick, two fingers pressed directly onto your pussy, prodding about, dancing slight as he tramped about your opening.
“You must've touched yourself?” the question itself felt sickening, you shouldn't have to tell him—“yes,” you mumble slowly, “ever thought about me?”
Another ‘yes’ indiscriminately fell off your lips.
Right at your position you saw him smile, dumbfounded when he whispered a ‘me too,’
Suguru’s other hand—fingers ran close circles on your thigh, “I won't go all the way tonight, you're scared and that's fine—” you gulped, reassurance flitting through you, “wanna make you feel good though,” and exactly as his sentence ended, he propped your legs all the way to his shoulders, despite all that he was doing, an almost innocent —“comfy?” he dropped in the name of formality.
“Relax,” he cooed, soft and gentle as he slowly leaned in, “you're in good hands ok?” your breath hitched still as the first lick came about, wetness spreading all the more than it already was—you were sure you’d never found yourself all so wet.
“Suguru- I- c-can't we do this without the-”
Without the panties—you were already wrecked for him.
A Cheshire smirk spread on his features from down below, “no, we'll go step by step, that's how the studious ones go, right?” you held back a moan when his fingers found your clit—rubbing slow circles, panties getting drenched in your own slick.
“Was that a moan doll?” his words suddenly caught up—a sharp slap landed on your pussy, eliciting a small cry, ”I wanna hear everything from you doll, every whimper, every cry and moan—everything,” you could only nod, and gasp slight as he dived in to press a kiss against your clothed folds.
“I'm so glad you're wearing white sweets,” a devilish grin his and an embarrassed squeak yours as he pinched your folds through your panties—drenched in result of his spit and licks and your own slick, completely see through.
And all throughout, Suguru was relentless in the way he spread apart your folds easily, peeking at the hints of your exposed cunt.
Fingers hooked to repeatedly rub your clit, so slow, never the right pressure or pace—snickering at how your mouth hung ajar, eyes drooping with pleasure.
Low pants and shy breaths only encouraged the raved haired boy still, sparing fingers and diving right in with his lips attached to your pussy lips and panties—tongue pushing against so obscenely against your hidden hole.
A sheepish grin he held, “Suguru,” you let out a broken sob, “please,”
The whine had him feeling back, looking up at you—eyes never Fuller, almost as if drunk in your juices, “hm?”
“Want more—pl-please,” it was almost a drag, your words.
Sobbing almost, at the way he chuckled—“nu uh, this is still technically your punishment, you know that right?”
But even so, Suguru knew he wouldn't deny you pleasure, just…maybe, just tease you a lot—drive you over the edge with his words before his tongue would do it, but he would get to it, surely.
And deep down he knew it too, he couldn't have had anything in him to deny you it either, not when you squirmed for him so adorably.
Just as before, Suguru attached his tongue to your see through panties, swirling around your folds and nub—until he playfully nimbled on it—basking in your gasp and sudden clutch of your fingers on his hair.
Suguru wrapping his lips over your clit once again, feverishly suckling on the swollen flesh— tempted to just move your panties to the side and eat you out like a starved man who hadn’t eaten in weeks.
But then, even with, close to none, experience that you had —you were sure that is what carnal desire would be presented as.
The idea was enticing, to just have it all flipped to the side—but he wasn’t one to give up so easily—and then he did want to see you suffer and cry all for him. Even if he’s currently losing his mind to actually get a taste of your pussy.
“S-Suguru—please, s’close!” his tongue danced about your folds, warping and swiveling the mushy flesh until your legs started to shake—as did you.
Your back arched, loud moans leaving your mouth—almost pornographic they sounded, as your hand was still gripping Suguru’s locks tightly.
Fat tears rolled down your cheeks with your jaw slightly hanging open but no words were escaping your lips, your body spasmed, your grip on suguru’s hair loosened as you held onto the sheets underneath you instead—before you came really hard, drenching your panties even more with your cum.
Suguru was kneading the soft flesh of your thighs as he looked up to you, licking his lips, practically tasting your cum on his tongue already. You swallowed thickly, meeting his intense gaze on you and before you could mutter or say anything— Suguru had beat you to it.
“Not done yet doll,” he grinned—fingers hooking in the waist band of your panties—“next question decides if you become the good little student that you are, and I teach you how to please me—or you get punished more when I get it actually gt to play with your pussy,”
A broken giggle escaped you, “oh well, what is it?”
Suguru couldn't help but giggle at you too, so damn cute that he found you, “how many times are you cum for me?”
All of this work is entirely original and my own, please refrain from copying or reposting.
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#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#geto suguru#geto x reader#suguru geto#geto suguru x reader#suguru smut#getou suguru#suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen suguru#geto suguru smut#jjk suguru#getou suguru x reader#suguru geto smut#getou suguru x you#getou suguru x y/n#getosuguru#getou x reader#jjk geto#jujutsu geto#geto smut#geto x you#geto x y/n
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sunrises & liquor (m) | myg
worth it (you are)
pairing: yoongi x reader
series: sunrises & liquor
rating: m(18+); cursing, alcohol consumption, smut, explicit content
genre: bar workers au, barman yoongi au, (kinda) forbidden relationship, angst, fluff, smut
summary: after a failed academic pursuit and a few meaningless and disappointing relationships, you decided to go back to what you never thought you would: the bar industry. There you find a family, friends, heartache, misunderstandings and one particular barman who just won’t get out of your head.
warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption (duh), smut, dom!yoongi, switch!reader, dirty talk, biting, slapping, oral sex(f. receiving), protected sex(wrap it before you tap it folks), workplace sex, body worshipping(sort of), vomit inducing fluff, angst
a/n: YES, yes, two S&L updates in a week, a miracle. we’ve been waiting for it folks, they get nasty nasty. Also, quite a few exciting things happen(squeeeeeal) this was just very fun to write! I hope you enjoy, don’t forget to leave comments if you did! <3
// thanks to my dear friend who beta’d for me, @lilredtot couldn’t have done it without you I love you<3
chapter word count: 6.9k *wink wink*
previous | next
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You’re a hypocrite. Such a hypocrite.
Because you always tell people it’s ok to make mistakes, it’s human, and the only important thing is how we handle them, how we apologize and try to do better.
But as soon as Yoongi made a mistake, you dismissed him and cut him off. Yes, the way he acted was reproachable and he needed to take time to think about how his actions hurt you both.
He didn’t deserve the way you treated him though, like he’s disposable, unimportant. Because he’s not, god he’s not. He’s the most impressive man you’ve ever met, the most caring and attentive. He did fuck up, and you still weren’t sure if you could build anything on such a shaky foundation.
But wasn’t he worth a try?
Taehyung was right, you are closed off. Self-sabotaging even.
As soon as you saw a possibility, vulnerability, you squashed it down mercilessly. You did it without even realizing. You only understood a few days later, after pondering over what happened on Saturday night again and again.
Yoongi texted you on that night, to ask you if you had gotten home safe and you replied to tell him you did. Since then, it’s been radio silence between you both. You did tell him you needed space to think, he’s simply respecting your wish.
It still hurts though, and you’re a goddamn hypocrite.
You let out a dramatic groan as you turn around in your bed, burying your face in your best friend's chest.
“I don’t want to go to work tomorrow, please don’t make me,” Your voice comes out muffled.
Taehyung rolls his eyes, “No one’s making you do anything,” He strokes your hair softly. “You will have to face him at some point though, so why not make money at the same time. It’s a win-win situation if you ask me.”
You lift your head up and shoot him a panicked look. “I literally cannot face him, Tae, I was such a bitch to him. How do I even begin to apologize?”
“You say ‘Hey I’m so sorry I was a right cow with you, though you did kind of deserve it, can we talk’ and voila.” He says, matter-of-factly.
“Can you be serious,” You shoot him a deadpan look.
He sighs exasperatedly. “I am being serious. You overthink shit way too much, just be honest and straight to the point. You guys need to communicate better, start with that.”
“What if he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore?” You whisper.
Taehyung sends you a warm boxy smile, and it’s so comforting you can’t help but relax a little, loosening your hold on his stomach. “Somehow I doubt that.” He soothes.
You nod and lay your head on his chest. “I’m scared, Tae.”
He strokes your hair again as you close your eyes.
“I know.”
You wake up in a sweat, barely remembering your nightmares, though you know they must’ve been terrible to have you wake up in such a state. Taehyung’s long gone, he probably left as soon as you fell asleep.
You must’ve been exhausted not to notice him leaving.
You begrudgingly get up, glancing at the clock as you do, it indicates two in the afternoon.
“Fuck,” You curse out loud, realizing how long you’ve been sleeping.
You have two and a half hours to get ready and get to work. Not impossible at all, you just hate not having enough time to read a little, listen to music and peacefully drink your coffee.
You sigh as you make your way to the shower, almost falling asleep as you stand in it. You end up spending forty-five minutes in there, getting out only when the water gets too cold to stay.
You’re stalling, you know it, not looking forward to spending the night working with Yoongi. It’s completely pointless and stupid, you’re only cutting your own alone time short.
You spend the next hour and forty-five minutes getting ready. You’re so anxious you smudge your eyeliner and have to wipe your face clean and apply makeup all over again.
(“I fucking hate myself,” you whispered to absolutely no one but your pathetic self.)
And so, you get to the bar five minutes late, panting as you run down the street from your car to the bar, not bothering to go get coffee on the way. A decision you regretted immediately because how the fuck are you supposed to survive this night without coffee?
You almost fall down as you run into a crack in the pavement, barely managing to maintain your balance. Why does life hate you.
“Woah there,” Namjoon breathes out as he hurries towards you.
You shove your hair out of your mouth,
“I’m fine, I’m fine. Crisis averted."
“You look on the verge of a mental breakdown" He chuckles.
“Please don’t remind me," You aim for the door handle, only for Namjoon to stop you.
“I was joking." He shoots you a strained smile, no dimples. You prefer his real smile. “Are you okay?"
“Did Yoongi tell you?" You shyly ask.
His eyebrows shoot up. “Nah, I haven’t been able to talk to him all week. What happened?"
Your heart sinks, this isn't good.
“Nothing dramatic, don’t worry. Talk to you later, yeah?" You lie.
“Yeah, okay." He eyes you suspiciously before opening the door and letting you in. You jump up the stairs, very aware of your tardiness.
You sigh in relief when you don’t spot Yoongi and grin as soon as your gaze meets Jimin, quietly cleaning tables with a rag. You amble towards him, engulfing him in a tight hug from behind as soon as you reach him. He jumps at the contact, and swivels around, relaxing as soon as he sees you.
“Fuck you scared me," He brings a hand up to his chest.
You giggle. “I missed you Chimchim."
Jimin rolls his eyes but a wide grin stretches upon his cheeks. “We saw each other last monday, you big softie."
You pout and he laughs, flicking your nose playfully.
“Is Yoongi not here?" You bite your bottom lip.
“I’m here."
Jimin barely conceals his amusement as your eyes widen.
You swirl around towards the sound of his voice, your heart hammering in your chest as you mentally curse yourself. You meet his gentle gaze, which only worsens your overall state.
“Oh," You blush furiously. “Hi." This is pathetic, you’re pathetic.
“Hey," He retorts, eyes still focused on you.
Jimin eyes dart between the both of you before he sighs and continues wiping the tables clean. “This is painful to watch. You’re both coming to my place tonight whether you want it or not, and I’m locking you in my bedroom until you fucking talk."
“You’re kidnapping us?" Your eyes shoot daggers at him.
“Very rude," Yoongi grumbles. You think you can make out amusement in his tone.
A booming voice makes you jump as soon as it hits your ears.
“Ahhh, the best team is in the place," Jungkook chants, clearly not reading the awkward atmosphere.
Yoongi rolls his eyes, though you can see mirth swimming through them. “The best team should probably get ready for opening."
“Hey! I’m working“," Jimin huffs indignantly.
“Hyung, you’re no fun," Jungkook stares Yoongi down, which makes you cackle loudly.
“Yes, I’m the most boring person you’ll ever know. Now whoosh," He chases him away with his dirty rag.
You go to the employees lounge and get ready for the night, a little less nervous than you were before.
Funny how the man partly responsible for your nervousness can also be the one to chase it away.
There’s so many customers that come in and out throughout the night that you can barely catch a break to go to the restroom. When closing time arrives, you’re hungry as fuck and way too sober for your liking.
The same cannot be said for Jimin and Jungkook, the happy-go-lucky pair cleaning serving trays as they sing a duet, a song you don’t recognize. Perhaps it’s because they can barely pronounce the words correctly.
Yoongi is still in the office counting the cash register and you’re busy putting back the clean glasses to where they belong, laughing quietly at your friend's shenanigans. You wonder when they managed to get this drunk, considering the busy night you just went through.
You hear loud footsteps echoing through the staircase and lift your head up. Namjoon is quickly making his way up and towards the bar, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm himself.
“I know I’m not supposed to come up but goddamn, it’s so fucking cold outside."
“I don’t think Seokjin would mind," You chuckle.
“Hyung, are you cold?" Jungkook stops singing and heads to the employees lounge, coming back just as soon holding his winter coat. “Here, put it on." He drapes the warm coat on Namjoon’s shoulders then pats his hair in a caring manner.
Namjoon’s face reddens at the younger man’s actions. “Jungkook-ah, I can’t take it, you’ll be cold."
“Nah I won’t, I’m rarely cold. Look," He brings his hand up to the older man’s neck, the latter’s eyes widening as he does so.
“Y-yeah, you’re really hot." He sputters.
And you can’t help but cackle loudly at his words, they’re both way too cute and awkward for their own good.
“Yeah, you’re really hot Kookie," You tease.
Jungkook looks confused but ultimately shrugs and goes back to his task. Namjoon sends you a glare, which only prompts you to laugh even harder.
“Why is Kook-ah hot?" Yoongi chips in, which causes your heart rate to alarmingly quicken its pace. The man will be the death of you.
“You should ask Namjoon-hyung, '' Jimin says, a wicked grin plastered upon his features.
You double over in laughter, abandoning the task at hand while Namjoon turns an even deeper shade of red.
“Is there something I’m not getting? Why is everyone laughing?" Jungkook irritatedly inquires.
“You’re both way too oblivious I swear to god," Yoongi chortles.
“Oblivious to what?" Jungkook says, getting more and more irritated as you, Jimin and Yoongi go on laughing.
“Just accept that you’re in love with each other already, please," Jimin says through a fit of laughter.
“I don’t have to accept anything, I already know I am," He snarls before dropping the rag he’s been holding and marching decisively towards Namjoon, grabbing both sides of the older man’s face and planting a determined smooch on his plush lips.
You all stop laughing at once, sharing bewildered looks as Jungkook and Namjoon unashamedly kiss. They part after a few seconds, staring adoringly into each other’s eyes while the three of you stand in complete silence.
You never thought they would actually take the plunge.
“I love you, hyung," Jungkook whispers as he caresses the bouncer’s cheek.
The older man’s eyes widen comically. “I love you too, Jungkook-ah," He whispers back, leaning in for another sweet kiss.
“Well, umm," Jimin starts. “Congrats?" You and Yoongi hum in agreement, too surprised by the turn of events to say anything else.
But they both ignore the lot of you, too enraptured in each other’s devoted gaze to notice anything else. And so you swiftly go back to what you were doing.
Yoongi helps you put the glasses away while Jimin finishes his task.
“Well, I guess it finally happened," He declares, incredulous.
“Never thought it would," You reply, just as bewildered.
“Sometimes it takes longer than normal for the best relationships to properly flourish.” He says, a serious undertone to his voice.
You still at his words, unsure if you’re still talking about Jungkook and Namjoon. “Yeah, I guess..”
You both go for the same glass as each other, his slender fingers brushing yours as you do. You feel goosebumps bursting out like thorns on your skin and snap your head up at the contact.
Yoongi peers into your eyes, seemingly as shaken as you and opens his mouth slowly, as if unsure what to say. Which is when Namjoon decides to speak up,
“I’m sorry Chim but tonight we’ll be going home together, me and Kook-ah. Rain check next friday, yeah?” He wraps an arm around Jungkook’s waist.
“Don’t tell me that you’ll start ditching me now that you got together,” Jimin pouts, crossing his arms over his chest.
Namjoon chuckles at this, adorable dimples on display, and you can’t help but feel so fucking happy for your friends.
“It’s just for tonight I promise.”
Jimin still pouts but gives him a small nod before turning towards you and Yoongi. “You guys are coming right?”
You bite your lip, your uneasiness slowly creeping back in. Yoongi opens his mouth to speak, but upon seeing your face, he closes it. You focus on the tiled floor, hiding your embarrassment to the best of your abilities.
Your anxiousness must’ve been very apparent because when he speaks again, it’s to decline Jimin’s invitation.
“I have a few things to do, but next Friday it’s on though.” He gives him an apologetic smile.
The younger man looks dejected.
You wipe your wet hand on your skirt, now done with the dishwasher. “I’m sorry Chim, I’m kinda tired.”
“Ugh, fine. Y’all better be paying for beer next week.” He heads to the employees lounge and you all soon follow, grabbing your belongings before closing the lights and heading out, down the stairway and out the door.
You wish your friends a good night and trudge down the street accompanied by Jimin. Soon enough, you get to your car and pull him into a tight hug.
“I’m really sorry, I’m just really not up for it tonight..”
He squeezes you tighter. “I was only half-joking, it’s fine babe. I’ll text people and see if anybody’s awake.”
“Mmhm, by people you mean a certain red haired someone?” You smirk against his shoulder.
He huffs and flicks your hair before heading back in the bar’s direction, where Jungkook and Namjoon are waiting to drive him home, a small smile on his lips. “Maybe.”
You chuckle, unlocking your car and slide in as fast as you can to spare yourself from enduring the cold breeze any longer. You start the ignition and peer outside, waiting for the heat to defog your windows.
You see Namjoon’s car take off and wait a little longer, replaying the night’s events in your head.
And you smile softly when you think about your two friends finally getting together, about Jimin calling up Hoseok at four in the morning.
But your smile falters as soon as you think about Yoongi, and how everything about you and him is complicated. You wish you could just call him up and ask him to meet you in the early morning hours. You wish he could come back to your house after work, where you both could watch the sunrise peacefully. You wish you didn’t turn him down because of your stubbornness and self-sabotaging ways.
Sometimes you wish you could be someone else, unburdened by all the baggage you carry around, day-in and day-out.
You reach for your purse and search for your cell phone, wanting to play music to drown out the noise in your head.
“Where the fuck..?” You mutter to no one but you.
You search your hoodie’s pockets, unsuccessfully. You must’ve forgotten it inside.
“Why am I like this?” A quiet groan escapes your lips.
You get out of your car and head towards the bar, your eyes darting from left to right to make sure no one’s around. You hug your shoulders as you approach the door, the lights are off. Of fucking course. You all left together, the place is closed and locked.
You whine loudly and slowly slide your back down against the door, closing your eyes in the process.
You breathe in and out. “It’s fine, you work tomorrow you can just grab it then.” You whisper to yourself.
You open your eyes again, and hope suddenly blooms in you as they catch an interesting detail.
Yoongi’s car is still there.
You quickly get up and grab your purse from the ground before tentatively pulling at the door handle.
It opens, producing a small rusty noise as it does, and you quietly head inside, unsure of exactly why you’re acting this way.
You try to make minimal noise as you leisurely step up the stairs, and let your eyes adjust to the darkness when you get to the main floor.
There’s no lights on, only darkness. And you wonder where Yoongi is, if not in the main room.
Maybe the office?
You hastily head towards the bar, trying not to bump into anything.
You end up failing, walking right into a chair on your way there. It falls to the ground, the loud noise reverberating through the silence.
“Who’s there?”
You freeze as soon as you hear Yoongi’s hoarse voice.
“I-It’s me,” You whisper.
As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you make out a silhouette a few feet away from you, sitting at a bar stool.
You step closer. ��Why are you sitting in the dark?”
He clears his throat, you can see him clutching a large object in his arms. “Why are you here?” He deflects. You frown and sit on the bar stool next to him.
It’s a guitar, he’s holding a guitar. He was playing.
“I think I forgot my cell phone,”
“Oh,” Is all he says.
You lean on the counter, trying to take a good look at him. You can’t really see his eyes, or features.
Damn darkness.
“Why are you sitting here, in the dark, instead of at home?” You ask again.
“Didn’t feel like going home.” He shrugs, avoiding your gaze. “You should go home, it’s getting late. I’ll walk you to your car.”
He carefully drops his guitar on the counter and gets up. You panic, though you don't understand why. “Wait-“
He looks up, meeting your gaze and you freeze, unsure of what prompted you to stop him.
“What?” He asks, almost pleadingly. It tugs at your heartstrings.
You wanna tell him. Tell him that you’re so fucking attached to him you cant bear the awkwardness anymore, would do anything he wants to get back to what it was before, have another chance to not fuck this up. Maybe have something like Jungkook and Namjoon, further down the line.
But barely anything comes out except a soft, airy,
“Stay”
You can see it in his eyes, despite the darkness, the moment he gives in and sits back down on the stool he had occupied moments ago.
“Yeah.. I can do that.”
You both stay silent for a few seconds before Yoongi speaks up.
“I’m sorry..”
You put your hand on his forearm and squeeze it lightly. “I know.” You start. “I blew this way out of proportion, I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head vigorously. “No no. You were right, I acted like a total ass, I shouldn't have expected the worst of you. You didn’t deserve that.”
You feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, and for fuck’s sake, you wish you could go through one conversation with him without crying.
“Yeah you shouldn’t have. But I shouldn’t have treated you like I did either.” You shakily reply, taking a deep breath as soon as the words are out.
“I guess we both fucked up, uh?” He chuckles, the sound coming out strained from emotions.
“I guess we did,” You giggle, two lonely tears escaping your eyes at the same moment. “That’s what people do.”
He abruptly stands up and you shudder when he steps closer to you, sending you a slightly alarmed look as he strokes your hair.
“Hey, hey, why are you crying?” He soothes, his deep gruff voice sending a wave of warmth throughout your whole body.
“I just-“ You hiccup. “What’s gonna happen now?”
He gently grabs your chin, tilting your head so you can only look him straight in the eye.
“What do you want to happen?” He whispers, his breath fanning over your face.
“I don’t want to lose you,” You shiver.
He brings his soft lips to your forehead, leaving a gentle kiss there. “You won’t.”
You grip the front of his white t-shirt, as if it could help you deal with your emotions, ground you. All it does is send your mind into a frenzy as you feel Yoongi’s skin against your own.
“I’ll be there, even if only as a friend.” He continues, coming back to eye level with you.
“But I want more than that,” You murmur, flushing as soon as the words leave your mouth.
Yoongi stares at you for a moment before caressing your cheek. You lean into his touch and close your eyes, bracing yourself for whatever he’ll decide to reply.
It’s easier when you’re not looking at him.
“Then what do you want, love?”
You utter the next word so low you’re not even sure he’s heard it,
“You”
Yoongi inhales sharply. “Look at me.”
You comply immediately, meeting a pair of dark orbs looking at you in almost reverence.
“You have me, whatever you want, it’s yours.” He firmly says, holding your gaze and swiping his thumb in circular motions across your skin.
You feel overcome by emotions, after everything, he still wants you. And that’s too much, you don’t know what to do with all this affection threatening to burst out of your heart at any moment.
“Kiss me,” You plead, eyes shimmery and wet.
You notice how his jaw twitches almost imperceptibly, and he blinks in a drawn out manner, inhaling as he does so. You watch him anxiously.
“That’s an easy request,” He grumbles before closing the gap between both of your mouths, leaving you breathless as soon as his pillowy flesh latches onto yours.
You choke out a sob and throw your arms around his neck, bringing him closer as he cradles your face with both hands, gently, like an anchor amid the turbulent sea of emotions raging through you.
He doesn’t press, content on moving his lips against yours in soft, languid motions. He waits for you to deepen the kiss, as if unsure if you really want it, letting you decide where to take this.
And god, you want this. You’ve been wanting this for so long. Not the explosive moment you shared in the back alley last week, not the sorrowful kiss you shared as you left either.
You wanted this, Yoongi pressing against you with devotion, making you whimper as he nibbles at your bottom lip with fervor. This is everything you wanted, and more.
So you show him exactly how much you want this, slightly tugging the hair at the bottom of his nape and sliding your tongue against his lips, asking for permission. And permission, he grants.
But before you know it he takes control of the situation, sliding his grip down to your hips and licking at your mouth in expert strokes, taking over you in a matter of seconds.
But you won’t let him win, not this easily.
You push him back slightly, smirking as he stumbles onto the bar stool and sits down in order not to lose balance. You stand up and straddle him, giggling as you notice the sheer look of surprise adorning his face.
“What are you-“
You shush him, bringing a finger up to his lips as you settle onto him. He brings his hands back to your hips, sending a wave of goosebumps up your back. You can feel him smirk against your digit.
And god, you really want to wipe that gorgeous smirk off his face right now.
So you hungrily crash your lips against his, relishing in the moan that escapes him as you roll your hips against his hardening covered length.
He suddenly tugs your hair in one quick motion and you’re forced to detach from him, a thin thread of saliva connecting both of your mouths together as you quietly moan, your undergarments soaking almost immediately at the display of dominance.
Yoongi nibbles at your ear, the action spurring an aroused shudder out of you.
“Be careful love, you’re advancing into dangerous territory here.” He all but groans in your ear, you can’t help but shake in his hold.
You may not have the upper hand in this after all.
“What if I want it?” You whine.
The blond man chuckles.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” He drawls, teasingly licking at your ear lobe.
You roll your hips against him again, earning you a hoarse groan in warning. “Then show me.”
He tugs even harshly at your hair and this time you whine loudly, too gone to give a single fuck about how loud you are.
He examines your face before huffing in disbelief,
“Are you sure?”
“Y-yes,” You whisper brokenly.
“Then you’ll have to tell me exactly what you want,”
You wriggle in his hold, very shy of a sudden. Because you can’t tell him exactly what you want.
“Yoongi,” You plead, squeezing your eyes shut.
“Nuh-uh, none of that. If you want something you have to tell me love,” He draws soothing circles on your back while still holding your hair in his other hand.
Your voice comes out small and uneven,
“I want you”
He tugs again as he jerks his hips up, brushing against your core. “Last warning, tell me exactly what you want.”
You feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes in pure frustration as you yell out the next words,
“I want you inside me, you asshole!”
He chuckles deeply before loosening his hold on your hair and stroking it. “Now, now. No need to get mean.”
He pushes against your neck, and connects his lips onto yours once more, immediately swiping his tongue against your own to assert dominance. You let out a wanton whimper as you let him plough into your warm mouth.
You try to grind against him, though your movements are uncoordinated and shaky from the sheer intensity of the need coursing throughout your whole body.
But Yoongi soon understands what you want and starts grinding upwards, hissing against your mouth at the much needed friction.
“Fuck,” He inhales deeply through his nose. “Take this off.” He tugs at the seams of your crop top.
You take it off slowly, it’s the best you can do considering your current state. You feel your breast sag down as soon as you lift the piece of clothing off and shudder at the myriad of curses that escapes Yoongi’s mouth.
“Fucking hell love, you’re not even wearing a bra, are you fucking kidding me.” He grunts as his dark and hungry eyes bore into yours.
“I- I never d-do-“
You can’t even finish your sentence before you let out a sharp cry as Yoongi’s skilled lips latch onto your right nipple, sucking and biting lightly as his other hand pinches and rolls your left sensitive nub between its index and thumb, making you throw your head back in pure pleasure.
“Y-Yoongi,” You strangle out, gripping his hair loosely as he continues to expertly ravage your perth nipples, a pool of warmth settling into the base of your stomach.
He drags his teeth onto your sensitive skin one last time before he kisses you again, so aggressively that you’re sure your lips look completely used and abused by now.
“God I fucking love these tits,” He growls as his hand leaves a sharp stinging slap on your left breast.
You grab the front of his shirt in your tiny fist before whimpering hoarsely,
“I want it off, please.”
Yoongi smirks confidently before tugging his shirt off. “Anything you want love.”
You feel your guts churn as you admire for the first time Yoongi’s naked chest. Inches of soft, pale skin begging to be touched, and so you do, sliding your palms gently across the smooth expanse of his chest, tracing each and every line with your index finger, spurring shivers out of Yoongi as you do so.
Yoongi waits patiently as you try and burn each and every dip and moles, every inch of skin, into your mind. You notice a small scar, close to his hip and caress it delicately. “Where’d you get this?”
“A car accident,” He shrugs, taking your wandering hand into his palm and linking your fingers together. You look into his eyes and find him staring right back at you, adoringly.
“You’re beautiful,” You whisper faintly.
Yoongi hums quietly before bringing a hand up from your hip to your face, a bashful grin plastered upon his criminally handsome face.
“You sure you want this?”
You nod firmly, you’re sure. So fucking sure.
“If at any point you want me to stop or feel uncomfortable with something, you need to tell me. Alright?”
“Alright” You murmur.
He grabs your chin and seals your lips together in a searing kiss that has your head spinning and your toes curling. You feel like your blood has turned into lava, like your whole body’s burning from the inside out.
“Then take this pretty skirt off,” He groans against your lips.
You mewl unashamedly and quickly leave his lap, almost losing balance as your shaky legs plant on the ground if it wasn’t for his strong hold onto your hip, keeping you from falling down onto your bum.
Your skirt pools around your ankles as you slip it off, soon to be followed by your now soaking wet undergarments. You kick them off to the side as you settle onto Yoongi’s lap once again.
He leans forward, grabbing your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging lightly on it.
“Nuh-uh. Get up and sit right here.” He pats the bar surface, you widen your eyes at him.
“Don’t look at me like that love,” He teases.
“But-“
“Do you not want me to eat you out or what?” He taunts.
You gulp audibly as you clench around nothing, completely blindsided by his words.
“Can you-“ Your voice breaks.
He taps on the bar stool and you tentatively climb on it. You feel a sharp sting on your bare ass and wince in pain.
“Couldn’t help myself,” Yoongi chuckles darkly before helping you up on the bar counter. You timidly sit at the edge, thighs rubbing together as you anxiously stare at the ceiling.
A rough hand grabs your chin and tilts your head down. “None of that bullshit. Open those pretty legs baby.”
You blush furiously at the sheer obscenity of his words, though you do part your legs a bit, as if guided by primal instinct.
But it’s not enough for Yoongi, and he pulls them wider apart as he slots in between them, leaving a quick harsh kiss onto your bruised plump flesh.
“Gonna eat that pussy out ‘til you come apart on my tongue, got it?” He promises darkly, you nod and whine weakly. “Use your words, love.”
You bite your sensitive lip and beg, full on beg,
“Yes, please, Yoongi-”
The man chuckles and bends down, hooking both of your thighs onto his shoulders as he kisses your inner thighs teasingly, the warm touch sending you into overdrive. He lays one thick swipe of his tongue from your entrance to your clit, making you jerk as soon as his wet warmth comes into contact with your needy cunt.
“So fucking wet already baby,” He purrs against you, the vibration tearing a high pitched moan out of your raw throat.
And then he dives in, sticking his tongue in and out of you in sweet agonizing motions, then focusing on your clit and sucking lightly on it before expertly rubbing circles on it with the tip of his tongue. You let out a chain of broken moans, absolutely unable to keep them at bay, the heat in your gut burning obscenely as you grip his hair in an attempt to steady yourself.
He continues licking at your sensitive nub, and you almost lose balance as he slides a digit, then two, into you, dragging the flat tip on his fingers onto your tight walls.
“Yoongi!” You yell out, feeling the familiar burn of your high quickly pooling at the bottom of your stomach in an unstoppable manner. He slips his fingers out of you, soon to be replaced by a slick tongue prodding at your entrance as his fingers come into contact with your clit, rubbing quick circles onto it and drawing your orgasm close at a dangerous speed.
“I’m- I’m gonna cum,” You sob, grabbing the edge of the counter to steady yourself as you feel your body tingling, so close to the edge you can almost taste it.
“Cum,” He orders as he smacks a hand onto your clit.
And that’s all it takes for you to stumble over the edge, crying out as soon as the first wave of your orgasm hits you. It’s frighteningly intense, something you’ve never experienced before. You can’t even feel your limbs as you go completely lax in the blond man’s hold. It feels so god damn good you don’t want it to ever stop. You register Yoongi’s mouth leaving open mouthed kisses onto your thighs, caressing them soothingly as you come down from the heights of pleasure.
“Oh my god,” You dumbfoundingly whisper.
“You taste so goddamn good,” He stands up and puts his fingers in his mouth,sucking them dry of your cum. It’s so vulgar and arousing you might as well orgasm right on the spot again.
You blush furiously, hiding behind your hands.
“What? No one ever told you that?” He takes both of your hands in his large veiny ones and sends you a quizzical look.
“N-no,” You bashfully admit.
He stares in shock. “Well someone’s eaten you out before right?” You nod.
“Yeah they just.. They never made me cum from it. Never tried long enough.” You wriggle one of your dainty hand free and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear
“Fucking dumbasses,” Yoongi groans. “You’re a fucking treat, I could do this all goddamn day.”
You try to clamp your thighs shut but Yoongi’s waist stops you from doing so. He tuts playfully before flicking your chin with his finger.
“How am I gonna fuck you if you close those pretty legs love?”
You gasp as he forcefully strikes your thigh with the flat side of his hand, making you jolt in the process.
“Do you want to stop?” He inquires, voice softening as he peers into your eyes.
“No please don’t,” You answer truthfully. “I want you so fucking bad Yoongi,” You tug at his waist band, earning you a low growl from the blond man.
“Good, then you better not try to close these again.” He swats at your leg and dips a hand into his back pocket to retrieve a condom before unbuttoning his jeans and letting them fall down to his knees, soon doing the same with his underwear.
You marvel at the sight of his thick length, leaking precum right under his navel, it’s so inviting you just want to lick at it over and over again until the man whimpers your name.
But you’re brought back to reality when a large hand clamps down around your neck. You snap your eyes to Yoongi’s face, drinking in greedily the completely lustful look in his eyes.
He tears the wrapping with his teeth and wraps the protection around his length, pumping himself a few times before slapping your clit with the head of his cock, you jolt on the spot as a rush of heat washes over you.
“Gonna fuck this little cunt open now, yeah?” His vulgar words make your head spin and you feel sweat trickling down your neck.
“Please,” You rasp out.
“Look at me, don’t you fucking dare look away.” He hisses through gritted teeth.
You nod eagerly and your mouth opens wide as soon as you feel the head of his thick girth prodding at your entrance. You force yourself to look straight into his obsidian eyes despite the electrifying intrusion, though you can’t help but roll your eyes as he pushes in slowly.
He squeezes your throat lightly and you peer at him once again, focusing on his sinful gaze.
“Baby goddamn you’re tight,” He moans as he ever-so-slowly pushes against your pulsating walls.
You let out a sharp sob as Yoongi pushes himself to the hilt, his hips hitting yours. He breaks eye contact as his head throws back in overwhelming ecstasy at the feeling of warm heat clamping down around him. You feel yourself shaking from the intense stimulation, though you want more. Need more.
“You can move,” You breathe out.
And just like that, he starts rocking his hips against you, you can feel the tip of his length rubbing against your walls in tantalizing motions.
“Please,” You sob out as a single tear flutters against your eyelashes.
“Shhh baby,” He soothes, before slowly pulling out, only to dive back in as tension builds in your abdomen. He slides his hands down to the back of your thighs and grips hard enough to leave bruises, and you really wouldn’t mind.
He soon picks up his pace and starts ramming into you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin so fucking obscene you’d like to record it. You cry out his name incoherently, you’re not even sure you can even pronounce letters at this point, being way past behind coherent thoughts considering the relentless pounding Yoongi inflicts upon your bruised insides.
You wouldn’t want it any other way.
He suddenly lifts your hips up, deepening the angle at which he plows through you, and your back curves at the extreme pleasure the new position blinds you with.
“R-right there, Yoongi!” You moan out, arching your back even more.
“There?” He huffs out as he thrusts sharply into you, hitting the same sweet spot over and over again.
“Ah! Yes!” You cry out as you feel another high hurtling at you at record speed. You can’t even warn him before your orgasm overtakes you so suddenly you can only scream his name brokenly, over and over. You’re barely aware of it when he stutters and spills into the condom, his high coaxed out by the sharp fluttering of your walls, as he painfully digs his nails into your thighs.
You stay still for a moment, breathing heavily as you let your heart rates calm down and get back to normal levels. You delicately play with strands of blond hair, Yoongi’s head resting heavily against your chest as he runs his hand up and down your arm, it’s comforting you think.
After a few minutes you regain a certain sense of reality and you take in your surroundings. There’s clothes laying on the floor and the first rays of the sun peek through the windows.You sigh contentedly, you’re completly fucked out.
You try to suppress a hiss as Yoongi slides out of you. He lays a few open mouthed kisses on your neck which prompts a few goosebumps to break upon the surface of your skin. Yoongi smiles softly against your neck when he notices.
“Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” He genuinely asks, lifting his head to analyze your face properly.
“I’m more than okay,” You chuckle fondly, he’s so damn attentionate.
“Good.”
You feel a thumb skim over your lip before a pair of plush lips leave a sloppy kiss onto yours, which you reciprocate ardently.
“How are you?” You inquire and run a hand through his tousled blond hair.
He snorts. “I’m doing amazing love.”
You laugh quietly and peck his lips again. “Should we leave soon?”
“Yeah, probably,” He sighs.
You lightly flick his forehead,
“Then let’s go.”
You unhurriedly get dressed and grab your things, bantering in between playful slaps and gentle kisses. When you head out the door it’s already morning and you can hear a few birds whistling as a new day settles over the quiet city streets.
You head for your car but you’re soon tugged back into a warm and strong embrace that has you melt into a puddle on the concrete.
You sink back into Yoongi’s chest as he holds you tight and leaves a few kisses at the back of your neck.
And you feel content like this, like maybe things are finally falling into place for you. You wouldn’t mind getting used to these warm hands and beautiful soft lips drawing shapes onto your skin.
“Yoongi what are you doing,” You giggle. “I have to go home and sleep.”
He hums understandingly. “Yeah, you do. You could come to my place. We can sleep and I could drive us back here for our shift.”
You break out into laughter at his clinginess. That’s one thing you wouldn’t have expected.
“But I’d have no clean clothes for tomorrow.” You pout.
“We can drive by your place on the way back,” Yoongi tightens his hold against you.
“Okay, let’s go to your place then. Plus, I can meet Cat.” You chuckle as he nips at the sensitive skin of your neck.
“You just want to meet Cat uh, is that it?” He feigns indignance.
You roll your eyes. “Yes, of course. I slept with you to meet Cat.”
“Fucking knew it.”
You turn your head as far as you can and kiss him gently, though you soon part because of the very uncomfortable angle.
You ruffle his blond head of hair before happily whispering,
“Let’s go meet Cat.”
-
-
a/n: fucking finally, them fucking kids istg. anyway, thanks for reading lovelies it means the world to me I just love seeing all your comments and reblogs<3
// here’s the link to be added to the series taglist, click right here!
taglist: @vesperbells @tarahardcore @tea4sykes
@bonitaangel @kthstrawberryshortcake-main
@princesspiineapple @funkylittlebisexuall
@kikaninchen-2 @diorjgguk @purplelo
@lil6nmrll @perfect-bae @bwormie
@fragmentof-indifference
#bts fic#bts x you#bts x reader#bts x y/n#bts au fic#bts drabble#bts fluff#min yoongi fic#min yoongi x you#min yoongi angst#min yoongi x oc#min yoongi au#min yoongi drabble#min yoongi fluff#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi smut#min yoongi scenario#bts smut#bts scenarios#namkook#jihope#smut#bts imagines#min yoongi imagine#sunrises&liquor#yoongi au#yoongi x you#yoongi x reader#yoongi angst#yoongi smut
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hi cassy what are your thoughts on the stenny friendship dynamic
• they are the enablers ever. if they are together they are almost always on their bullshit. the type of whimsical shenanigans that has people in comments sections saying “this is what boys will be boys really means”.
• stan often comes to Kenny for advice on his love life; this is not helpful because 90% of the time stan just needs to get over himself so Kenny’s advice is just “yes that makes you VERY gay” or “Kyle’s already in love with you calm down”
• even though they’re being deeply unserious the majority of the time that they’re together, they both respect each other deeply. Kenny admires Stan’s stubbornness when it comes to what really matters to him, and Stan admires Kenny’s unwavering loyalty and belief in others.
• stan was the only witness to one of Kenny’s more drawn out deaths and Kenny would be lying if he said he wasn’t touched by the way Stan desperately tried to save him while sobbing
•they go through a period in high school where they’re very competitive over horse for some reason, like they’re on the basketball court for hours
• kenny does stan’s homework for a fee. he would have done it for the ability to say “you have to do this because I do your homework” over really small favors but stan insisted on paying. Stan gets the money from sharon by saying it’s for tutoring, which it is and Stan’s grades are proof, it’s just that it’s easier if he doesn’t tell her it’s Kenny so he doesn’t have to pull out his whole academic record as proof. But kenny is very good at explaining things in a way that stan understands; stan usually has no problem with the material once kenny goes over it with him but the way his teachers talk just does not register in his brain.
• in high school, in an effort to boost their resumes to get out of town, they are constantly volunteering together to make the volunteer work more bearable. Sometimes kyle accompanied them but kyle is much more of a pick one group and stick with it guy whereas stan and kenny might as well be on a mission to volunteer for every group in town that does not directly contradict their own values.
•I am a believer in stan-kenny-kyle roommates after college. When kyle is away for any period of time they’re eating the most abominable struggle meal creations unless they have money for fast food. Gatorade rice. Lucky charms three times a day. They don’t have to live like this btw. kenny is a passable chef, stan cannot cook anything at first but is pretty good once he learns (he just can’t be assed to actually do it if no one else is depending on him to). So why do they live like this? They live and die by the bit. The first time kyle left they legit did not have groceries and it was a blizzard so now they act like that’s the case all the time when it’s very much not. It has not occurred to them that they don’t have to live like this because that would require slightly more energy.
• stan is a frequent wingman for Kenny. It’s not that Kenny can’t pull it’s that people think he’s sleazy sometimes which he is not, he just looks like that. So Stan’s baby-animal-loving gentle giant aura reassures people that kenny must be a decent guy.
• as they become adults stan starts to take an interest in karen’s life as if they’re cousins or something. They hang sometimes with kenny but they’re not really friends or anything, but stan is still very proud of all of her successes and wants to help if anything is wrong because what’s important to his friends (kenny) is important to him.
• stan and kenny are frequently loaning each other the same $20. Passing that shit around like a blunt
• stan generally not a fan of weed because *gestures* but kenny is like the one person he will smoke with because he’s the perfect balance of chill and able to function
• every few months they come up with some scheme for a side hustle. They all inevitably fall apart but the longest one lasted a few months. Once they joined an mlm and they’d be sitting in the meetings or whatever with all these stay at home moms because they actually were very good at pyramid scheming, it’s just that the product itself started falling out of fashion and they jumped ship before they ended up taking any financial losses. Kyle was more than a little mad about the ethics of this until stan started buying him all kinds of nice shit. Nothing super fancy but nicer and more frequent than what the usual immediately-postgrad salary could provide.
• kenny likes to show up at Stan’s part time retail job and loiter. No one told him he could do this he just doesn’t have anything better to do and the manager is never in.
•they are each other’s go-to emotional support for various things. After realizing he has a crush on kyle, and into the beginning of their relationship, stan doesn’t really want to open up about his feelings to kyle lest he scare him away so he usually goes to Kenny. As a result kenny remains his confidant for most things; even when he is more comfortable talking to Kyle he usually also gets the Kenny perspective on the matter. Stan is kenny’s go to because kenny usually wants to vent, not to get advice, and kyle tends to think he knows what’s best for him which makes him incredibly mad, while stan is very empathetic and tends to make him feel better even if there’s nothing that can be done about the situation at hand.
•they place bets on the events of their friends’ lives like where Wendy will go for her phd or how long someone’s marriage will last
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Modern Family review of just the Tucker-Pritchetts' ending
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Being a college football coach is not a once in a lifetime opportunity. Being the first openly gay one in Missouri, yeah, but take a seat for a second. Think. It’s in the midwest, but also a bit southern and Cam’s consistently fluctuating/questionable/homophobic/racist backstory makes me think it’s not a great place for a gay couple with Asian kids even in 2020/2021 (the ever changing years/ages is another rant). Being near Cam’s family is not a good excuse. Nope. Not buying it, but also where did Pam go? She kinda just disappeared and the upstairs unit was magically available. Even if she returned to Missouri, she has beef with Mitch. She’s manipulative and more toxic than Cam. Barb is awful. Horrible. Nothing against the actress, I’m sure she’s sweet or at least decent, but Barb is depraved and Cam only enables her. I do not want Mitch or the kids near Barb. WHO THE HELL WROTE THIS?! WRITERS, WHY DID YOU THINK IT WAS OKAY FOR BARB TO KEEP ACTING THIS WAY AND CAM TO TREAT IT LIKE IT WAS A MITCH BOUNDARY ISSUE?! WHY DID JESSE AND ERIC THINK THIS WAS OKAY?! I get you’re the actors and you can’t do much to sway the script, but seriously? Why was this considered okay? Why was it passed off as a recurring ‘joke’ that she touches him every time she sees him and then kisses him on his wedding, idc if 'because she got drunk', Mitch should’ve exposed her to her husband who was RIGHT THERE even if they divorced. Also, Jay saw that and Mitch could’ve had the opportunity to tell his father. Cam, if ‘private parts are private’ why aren’t boundaries respected?
Some of Reddit seems to think Cam stayed for Mitch like he wasn’t here since at least 1997. Based on his age if he was 18 when he graduated from hs in 1990 and if he went to a four year college for music, ending in 1994, he could’ve moved between ’94 and ’97 in which Mitchell would be in law school. Not sure when he made the Greensleevers or the year of the LA Times article, but he went on a date with Pepper in ’97 and he knew Pepper. Cam knew Pepper longer than Mitch and enough to know he’s from Lubbock, Texas and his grandparents grew up in a trailer park. I feel like Cam stayed because of the gay community that Pepper was building/expanding. Cam and Mitch didn’t even meet until 2004 at one of Pepper’s game nights. And Mitch probably still uncomfortable and reluctant to be public with his relationships and Teddy probably recommended the friend group for a while until Mitch and Pepper met. Why do I feel like part of the reason Nathan Lane wasn’t in the finale was that they couldn’t come up with a reason Pepper would be fine with the move? I feel like Pepper would remind Cam of how much he’s gotten used to the city and how much he loves it.
Sal being the ‘final reason’ they moved is BS. Dump her. Seriously, she made two death threats against baby Lily and is antagonistic towards her the entire series which cannot be healthy for Lily. They should’ve dumped her years ago. Elizabeth Banks is awesome and funny and Sal had her funny moments, but a grown woman having beef with a baby for existing is pathetic. Luke jealousy when he was 10, I get it. It didn’t even last past Joe’s birth and he was fourteen. Still a kid, still reasonable. Also, Lily had friends and she was popular ‘there are nine girls who will freak if I don’t go to Jenna’s party’. I feel like there are a couple things she exaggerated so she could get her dads’ attention, but I doubt she would actually be okay. And what she said was concerning about dyeing her hair and getting an emotional support pig. She seemed to be saying sarcastically ‘no I wouldn’t be okay with it’. The writers mess around with her academic intelligence, like she’s smart, motivated, and popular enough to be cool with skip a grade, but later too lazy to do a proper project or start an assignment?
The same day they brought their baby home, they finalized the move into the new house. They had their house a month. A month and they decided fancy house that Mitchell feels good in doesn’t matter. Who has it out for him? Which writer screwed Mitch over? He was just starting to feel like the house is encouraging his talents and he painted a mural that’s just gong to get taken down by the next residents. It’s not like Cam was falling off, he got promoted to vice principal season 10, he can be relied on for school theatre productions, so he has things to do that encourage his talents. And wasn’t the whole chicken thing just enforcing Cam not liking even small farm work? They went to that store so they could have a taste of farm life while not going there entirely.
I get wanting to have the whole ‘separate ways’ thing, but why not leave that to the newer adult generation aka Dunphy kids and Manny. And it’s not like Jay and Gloria were moving to Colombia, just going to the summer (maybe so Colombia doesn’t come to Jay). Haley and Dylan just moved 10-ish minutes from the Dunphy house, they all lived in the same town. Despite Lily being 11/12 and probably in seventh grade, they could’ve had her mention an interest in a college in another state and tell her she still had high school to think about it which implies that she’ll go her own way eventually. I refuse to let Cam, who was called Jay’s son for the first time in six years, go off to Missouri and cause his family to be miserable. I hate that Jay and Claire didn’t even try to reason with or talk to them, just-next scene. The ending felt a bit rushed. I feel bad for hating on it because the actors loved the series and they did eleven years of it, but not all endings are great. Sarah Hyland didn’t feel ecstatic about her character’s ending and I can see that.
It’s a sitcom, I get it, but they do tackle serious/darker issues sometimes and for all the rightful bashing Dede gets, they give Barb none. She admits what she did was wrong, then continued to do it. Dede blamed medication/Gloria’s existence, but at least didn’t kill her when she saw her pregnant and allowed Gloria to come to her wedding. Barb gets no excuse. Why does Cam recognize Dede’s toxic behavior and comment on it but allows his mother’s behavior to thrive? And why can’t anyone tell Merle? Do Barb and Merle just operate separately as if they’re parents but not a couple? Is Nana Tucker his mom because he was absent in both of her appearances, the second being her death, like where was he? He appeared once in s3, then in the wedding. Barry Corbin is still alive, so what happened? Was he busy for Nana Tucker’s funeral episode? We get zero actual time for his character and his last line, I can’t-he sounds like a muppet…seriously, “If he’s doin’ it, I’m doin’ it. You comin’ Barb” takes me out of the emotional scene for a moment. It still would’ve worked if Merle didn’t say anything and just went to walk his son down the aisle and Barb silently followed, it would’ve been just as sweet of a gesture to their son. Even though frick Barb. I’ve killed her off in three stories so far. I’m sure Celia Weston is at least a decent person even though the first close up wikipedia pic of her is a jumpscare, I don’t hate her, I hate Barb Tucker.
#modern family#cameron tucker#mitchell pritchett#reviews#pls take with grain of salt or mountain of salt#vent post#i know its a sitcom
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Hi:) I love your writing so so much. Gorgeous characterisation, intelligent prose, etc! Just wondering if would you like to share your thoughts on Nottmort and Tomarry for that ask game👀 (and more specifically on Harry as a character, if you’d like, because I adored him in Made of Clay but I am also aware he probably isn’t a favourite character of yours, so I’m a little curious why, is all.) Thank you and have a nice day💗
Thank you for such kind words! ❤️ They’re lovely to hear. I’ll refer you in part to my past posts that touch on Harry, and also encourage you to send me a DM (here, Discord, wherever) if you want to chat in more depth! I love chatting. For the ask game, I’ll stay on the ships and limit it to a reasonable length.
Why don’t you ship Tomarry?
Because I dislike it and every trope that underlies it, and then at a certain point it became a matter of stubbornness and frustration as a Tom Riddle fan who did not ship it.
What would have made you like it?
I cannot give a fair and equitable answer to this! My dislike is as calcified as the tropes within Tomarry, lol. I will note that I rarely ship enemies-to-lovers, and so any possible way that I might ship this loses one of the essential pillars of their canon dynamic. I think that’s generally unsatisfying, as both an author and a reader, and so it’s best that I don’t try and find a vision of Tomarry which would work for me.
Despite not shipping it, do you have anything positive to say about it?
It’s the big ship for Tom, and I appreciate it so much when a Tomarry reader stumbles into my rare pairing corner and decides to give my writing a shot. Fewer people would be reading niche Tom fic if not for Tomarry’s popularity.
What made you ship Nottmort?
I accidentally walked into it through a fic that was meant to be another pairing tbh. But really, it’s the flexibility that appeals to me—Thoros isn’t even his real name, for goodness’ sake, it’s totally a fan construct. Nott Sr. exists as whatever I want him to be because there isn’t any canon to contradict that. We’re not going to have slap fights about correct characterization for Nott Sr. And what that amounts to is that I’ve gotten to create my own character, with exactly the traits I most enjoy, to pair up with Voldemort. It could have been some other surname-only Death Eater of that generation, so it having been Nott comes down to circumstance. Now that it is Nott, I’m never giving him back. Nott Sr. belongs to the canon of Harry Potter; my Thoros belongs to me.
What are your favorite things about the ship?
I love that Thoros is just as selfish as Voldemort—his key difference is that he expands the self out to encompass Voldemort as well, and Theodore in universes where Theo is born. It’s an interesting model for Voldemort to encounter, to have to reckon with; this is a man who suggests that it’s possible to have and maintain friendships, to function within normal society, all without adopting the moral values that someone like Albus argues are necessary. And Thoros isn’t hypocritical about it in the way that e.g. Mrs. Cole might have been, demanding virtues of Tom that she did not possess.
I love that a life with Thoros requires Voldemort to ask what his values actually are, and how he wants to prioritize him. My Thoros is stubborn enough to say ‘no’ when asked for something he’s unwilling to give, and so Voldemort is forced to confront that he cannot live eternally with Thor by his side. If it’s love, and Voldemort always does know that it’s love, then he must make a choice about what love is worth to him.
And the devil is in the details—these characters are peers, of the same age group; they spend formative years together; they have many of the same acquaintances and cultural references; they respect one another; they are both academically-inclined and value knowledge in the same way. There are a lot of similarities, which make the philosophical questions stand out more and feel possible to reconcile, or even make them feel worth reconciling.
Ultimately, I crafted Thoros to be exactly the partner I want for Voldemort. That’s cheating, I know. I fell in love with Thoros in his own right, though, and I take that as a success.
Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?
Unpopular versus… myself? Lol. I suppose it’s generally unpopular to write something other than enemies-to-lovers romance for Voldemort, but I’ll always make the case that there’s a huge world of relationships beyond enmity, and opening up to those gives a much wider range of potential tension points or disagreements on which to base a story.
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Shining Force World Book translation - part 4
Previous part here
Last force member entries, next part is the villains. I’ll also shove here the species and classes pages from further on the guide, just don’t get any expectation for those, they are very short and generic descriptions.
A knight who drifts carefree like a cloud
Pelle
Class: Knight
Species: Centaur
Gender: Male
Age: 33 years old
Height: 233 cm
Weight: 198 kg
Place of Origin: Runefaust
Starting Level: 8
Starting Weapon: Bronze Lance
Traveling lots of countries in the world while looking for his birthplace!?
A free man who wanders aimlessly while working as a mercenary knight. He doesn't know much about where he was born or who his parents are, but doesn't care in the slightest and continues to live as he pleases.
His pride and self respect as a knight are exemplary, and he never forsakes those in his actions.
Being an elite knight who has served in countless battles, he is also quite fearsome.
Strength is not all you need to win! His sense for battling is excellent!
Fitting for his personality, his growth by leveling up is uncertain, and can be fast or slow. He's a reputable knight, but that doesn't mean his attack is extraordinary or anything. In the end, his worth in battle might depend on how well he uses the spears and lances available.
He's more effective fighting as part of a team than taking the lead at the front.
_____
Alcohol is a source of power!
Vankar
Class: Knight
Species: Centaur
Gender: Male
Age: 44 years old
Height: 231 cm
Weight: 195 kg
Place of Origin: Runefaust
Starting Level: 8
Starting Weapon: Bronze Lance
The unhealthy lone wolf who does as he pleases
A centaur who drinks lots, and has more pride as a knight than anyone else. In his youth, he was an excellent knight of some country, but lost the job after getting in a fight with the minister. Even though that was due to the alcohol, he did not bother and has not quit drinking, working as bodyguard for taverns and traveling merchants in towns.
He cannot stand the heinous path Runefaust has gone down, and decided to fight alongside the force.
[Note: in game he joins by Koron’s orders, though it’s not hard to believe he also disliked Runefaust at the same time.]
He loves building more than fighting!
Lyle
Class: Assault Knight
Species: Centaur (subspecies)
Gender: Male
Age: 34 years old
Height: 204 cm
Weight: 181 kg
Place of Origin: Rindo
Starting Level: 8
Starting Weapon: Robin Arrow
A centaur who keep messing up with his laid back personality
Like Vankar, he couldn't stand Runefaust's ways and joined the force. As a centaur with a great sense of justice, he used to serve a kingdom. However, his laid back personality caused a lot of disaster and he was fired. After that, he immersed himself in his beloved inventions, and nowadays uses weapons he created himself. He joins the battle with his prized cannon.
His slow movement is a problem, but his power is outstanding!
Using a unique destructive weapon, his attack is great. But because his movement is low, he can't make the best out of that power. If you manage to support his low movement, defense and agility with the other characters, he can still be a power up for the party. If you want certain victory, he's a must have in the team.
[Note: Most other sources including the other guide book credit Crock for creating the cannon, but it’s not hard to believe they worked together, they’re just bickering over first author credit like any other academic.]
_____
An intellectual and poweful knight!
Guntz
Class: Steam Knight
Species: Armadillo
Gender: Male
Age: 21 years old
Height: 142 cm
Weight: 68 kg (not counting the armor)
Place of Origin: Rindo
Starting Level: 8
Starting Weapon: Bronze Lance
An armadillo who hates fighting but hides terrific power!
Member of the armadillo race, of which there are few around. He wears a heavy special armor. Unlike what you'd assume by his tough exterior, he's quite sensitive. He's hardworking and has dexterous fingers. Like Lyle, he works as an assistant to the inventor Crock, and has made a bunch of inventions.
He looks like he enjoys battling, has actually has more inclination to be an advisor.
The heavy armor is both his strong and weak point
Because he uses a heavy armor, his agility and movement are low, however his defense is quite high. His attack is also high, and he'll certainly be useful if you let him fight.
The most effective strategy would be to put his attack and defense to good use, slowly approach the enemies and then defeat them at once. But if you push things too far, his small amount of HP becomes a problem so you must be careful.
Species
A game world with countless species
In the world of "Shining Force", 17 species are shown, including humans. To help you understand what they are like, we explain ten of them here, from the common humans to dragonewts and the mysterious Yogurts. At the end of the explanations we list representative characters of each species as well.
Humans
Compared to other species they are short lived, weak, and have no special abilities. However they may acquire special abilities through the way they are raised and trained.
Representatives: The protagonist, Ramladu, Anri
Hobbits
They are generally short and robust. A race that prefers using their heads as opposed to fighting.
Representative: Lowe
Elves
They look much like humans, and are slender, tall and dexterous. They are skilled with bows and magic, and have long lifespans.
Representatives: Hans, Tao
Dragonewts
A humanoid dragon species. Superior to other species in power, skill, intellect and everything else.
Representatives: Nova
Centaurs
A species with a human upper body and a horse lower body. They use the same weapons as humans, and are drawn to fighting.
Representatives: Mae, Arthur
Birdpeople
A humanoid species with wings on their backs. Many like toying with their enemies with their distinctive swift movements.
Representatives: Balbaroy, Amon
Dwarves
They grow long beards, and have sturdy bodies. With very lively personalities, they usually work as warriors.
Representatives: Luke
Giants
They usually have large bodies, and are a violent and savage race. They are easily fooled by people, but their strength is superior.
Representatives: Gong
Wolfling
A species with wolf faces much like werewolves. They excel in fighting, and are proud of their own species.
Representatives: Zylo
Yogurt
A mysterious species that only appears in this game. Weird creature from the evil planet Yogurt.
Representatives: Yogurt
[Ah yes, this one makes some rounds on random trivia websites. The other guide book also brings it up in a section I didn't care much for translating, since it was just explaining secret items, Musashi and the Sound Test.]
What's the Yogurt Ring?
The weird animal, Yogurt. It is said he came from Planet Yogurt to turn all people into Yogurts. The Yogurt Ring is supposedly a tool for that purpose, but no one really knows the truth.
Classes
There are lots of classes!
We explain here in detail 8 classes, from the typical swordsmen and knights to the odd ones like birdpeople!
Swordsmen
They fight with smart moves, using mainly swords. They don't use heavy armor or big shields, having to rely on the sword for both offense and defense. In terms of constitution, many tend to be stout yet slim. In this game, the protagonist is a swordsman.
Knights
Usually elite knights at service of a sovereign. The king's orders are absolute, and they act on them even when having misgivings. They are loyal to the point of sacrificing their own lives to protect the king, They usually use lances, and fight mounted in horses. In the game, centaurs are the knights.
Warriors
A class for people who can use any sort of weapon. Not worrying with the loss of mobility and agility, they use armor to raise their defense. Their constitution is great and their have vitality, being capable of resisting wounds to some extent.
Archers
Skilled at shooting down prey from afar with a bow. Due to using long distance attacks, they usually have great sight and high concentration. But, they cannot use heavy weapons or armors, and many have low endurance as well.
Mages
A class lacking fighting skills in exchanging for acquiring magical abilities. They have no strength or endurance and cannot use heavy equipment, so they are weak in terms of defense. They also can only use staves as weapons. Tao and Anri are examples of mages.
Priests
Primarily a class that serves the gods. Instead of offensive magic, they use mainly defensive spells. Unlike mages their defense is high, and they can fight. Those of this class are intelligent, quiet and level headed. Lowe and Khris are examples of priests.
Monks
Usually ascetic monks training their body and spirit. Monks don't use weapons such as swords and axes, nor equipment like shields and armors. Their fight with nothing but their own body. The only force member of this class is Gong, who joins in Chapter 1.
Birdpeople
A class of winged people who used to fly freely through the skies. They patrolled their borders and castles using their wings. With superior movement, they are very useful for surveillance. Balbaroy and Amon are birdpeople.
#shining force#shining series#sf pelle#sf vankar#sf guntz#sf lyle#alcoholism#shining force world book#sf yogurt#long post#sf hobbits: we're an intellectual people focused on magic!#sw hobbits: we're descendants of fairies!#jaha waking upon a beautiful day in granseal: Oh I Am Going To Break So Many Racial Stereotypes *unwakes up*#also the giant thing continues to amuse me#giant representative: gong. the guy who rejected every culture thing we just said here#will we get an actual representative of that? haha no#these section are so unnecessary#'swordsmen don't use shields!'#deanna and mars strolling by with the coolest ass shields available: we can't hear you we're too sexy
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For the temporary explicitness….could we have Alma when she was working on a site abroad? Maybe there’s a cute girl at the dig site! Maybe with an accent?
(I actually had another Alma request as well...this did not go as planned and is not very sexy, I apologize, though sex is had.)
The pub was busy. Alma was at the bar, on the far end, nursing a beer. Dinner sat leaden in her stomach. The dig was phenomenal, her colleagues sharp and her finds bound to fuel her academic career for at least the next year.
But she was terribly lonely. The professors leading the dig were a married couple and mostly concerned with their own company or shepherding their flock of undergraduates, who were thrilled to have the opportunity. Alma was the lone doctoral student, several years older and enough of a managerial figure that they treated her with bemused respect.
She’d had dinner alone every night this week. Spent the nights in her hotel alone too. Her old bad sleep habits caught up with her and she found herself doomscrolling at odd hours of night, just wasting moments.
Maybe she should just hit up a club tomorrow, even if the general thought was unappealing.
“Is this seat taken?” Someone asked. It took her a moment to realize they meant her.
“No,” Alma picked her purse off of it, “Sorry. Go ahead.”
“Oh thank God,” a woman slid in next to her. “I was hoping you were alone. Oh! That sounded creepy. I’m just alone too and a man I cannot stand is a few seats away just waiting to take advantage if I’m by myself.”
“I can pretend to be a friend, but the accent makes me stick out like a sore thumb,” Alma swiveled in the stool to face her.
She was lovely. Older than Alma by some measure, but unknowable by how much. She had a short bob haircut, severe in a way that suited her otherwise round face. Her top was a no-nonsense work blouse, but given the size of her chest, it still revealed a great deal of cleavage.
“American?” The woman guessed.
“Guilty,” Alma smiled. “You’re local?”
“Born and raised in Glasgow,” she agreed. “Diane.”
“Alma. Can I buy you a drink?”
Diane tilted her head, regarding her, then smiled. “Yes. You can.”
Diane said yes several more times. Enough times that Alma was soon sitting on the edge of her hotel room bed, watching that sensible blouse float to the floor.
“You look like a doll,” Diane told her.
“I promise I don’t feel like one,” Alma smiled at her. It was far from the first time someone had said that to her. She knew that the makeup, the clothes, the hair, could give the impression of a porcelain princess. “Come find out.”
They kissed slowly, Diane’s hands landing soft on Alma’s shoulders. Like birds alighting on a branch.
Alma wanted something more. Had hoped or a little fire or hunger. But Diane was someone that apparently liked a finer touch. That was fine. She could do that too. Alma didn’t nip at the full roundness of Diane’s beautiful breasts. She just weighted them in her palms, kissed and licked to coax out sound and reaction.
It had been a year or so since she’d last gone down on someone with a pussy, but Alma remembered the way. She moved with that same slow care that Diane seemed to respond to. She licked gingerly, used her fingers sparingly, coaxing her along. Diane’s sounds were soft, huffs of breath and barely there moans. As if she was afraid of waking someone very close by.
“That was very good,” she murmured after she seemed to have come. Alma wasn’t sure, it had been such a non-event. “Let me take care of you now.”
Alma lay down. Spread her legs. She smiled. She moved through the motions. It was good. Diane was practiced, but uninspired. The lave of her tongue became irritating before it became better.
“Not working for you?” Diane asked before Alma could ask her to stop.
“I- no. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Diane shifted, getting up on her knees. “We can try something else. Or maybe...would you just like some company.”
“Yes,” she could’ve cried. “I would love that, actually.”
Diane stretched out beside her, resting a hand on Alma’s hip. “I got divorced last year. I did much the same just after.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. Did you lose someone?”
“A few months ago, but I don’t know. I’ve been lonely for a while. I have great friends, but none of us live close together right now. Then coming here...I’m a little unmoored.”
“Suppose that happens to everyone sometimes.”
They talked about the dig, Diane had heard a little about it. Diane told her about her ex-wife and their dogs, who they ferried back and forth between houses. Even as they spoke, Alma knew they’d never see each other again, but she was desperately glad to have it. When Diane glanced at her phone and said with a sigh,
“I’ve got to be getting home.”
Alma just nodded, “Thank you. For staying.”
“Thank you, doll. And don’t worry. These things come in cycles, I think.”
They kissed a last time there on the bed. Alma watched her leave the door closing quietly behind her. She lay there for some time, thinking almost nothing at all. Then she snagged her phone off her bedside table. It would be early evening back home.
Alma: i miss you
The response came almost immediately and that in itself was settling.
Ingrid: miss you too. What’s up?
Alma: Can I come visit when I get back? I’ll have a few days. Do a girl’s weekend?
Ingrid: I’d love that. Give me some dates, let’s make it happen.
She pressed the phone to her chest. She would see Ingrid when she got back. Maybe swoop by Shawna on the return journey. There was an email in her box that she had to reply to from Owen. They were still out there, her tiny network so carefully cultivated. The net would catch her if she fell.
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i hesitate to share the intimate details of my personal life on here -- in the same manner i hesitate to do so with even close friends more generally -- for favor of my hobbies and intellectualizations (you know, de-broglie bohm, whitehead, pink floyd, bjork, and whatnot)
in the past, the periods of solitude in which i found my refuge from difficult events would eventually return me to a state of calm. however, it has now been made harshly clear to me that i continuously protract the present retreat in a manner that brings worry to loved ones who have supported me through such times in the past. my primary intention with this post is to alleviate any undue stress or rightful confusion i caused in a way i am currently comfortable with, knowing that at times my hilariously private ass sometimes gets “stalked” by people i care about on this weird page.
in late 2021, i was diagnosed with an eating disorder. the presentation, diagnostically and of course personally, was extreme, and due to the severity of my illness, i was involuntarily hospitalized. this was financially devastating. i requested a formal leave of absence from my academic semester to enter treatment, and am proud to say i have been fully committed to my recovery since april 2022.
but if you know me and are reading this, you probably already knew that. and you also probably already knew that there is a lot this clinical briefing struggles to fulfill in delineating the much grander scope of the situation -- which most certainly includes my health and lack thereof, but ultimately cannot be reduced to it.
as briefly as possible (and really honestly, for fear of triggering it again as well as the fact that it is extremely difficult to talk about by nature), i experienced extreme intimate partner violence. my experience of the abuse was overwhelmingly verbal and psychological, although it eventually escalated to physical abuse.
i feel terrified writing this publicly. i know now in my heart i did nothing to deserve it, and though i’m ~super wordy~, i believe my prolix internal world may have magnified the traumatic nature of the similarly wordy abuse. this was all but confirmed to me when later in my ongoing recovery, when i grew healthy enough to isolate any other medical extenuating factors, i was also diagnosed with severe obsessive-compulsive disorder. i experienced abuse in the past -- incredibly common among ipv survivors -- and doubting my own perceptions is one of the “causes” of my little writing habit, as well as my very strong retainment of the contingent world through means that are entirely verbal.
i repeatedly and incessantly heard myself as “disgusting”, “gross”, “ugly”, “full of shit”, “pathetic”, “masculine”, “a slut / slutty”, “attention-seeking”, “weak”, “high body fat”, and of course, “fat”. i was often fetishized for and reduced to my racial background while also being chastised for my ethnic heritage. it was all without provocation. this is only the short list with respect to frequency. the worst of the abuse was coincident to periods in which i was cheated on, which i knew because another and almost equally large part of the abuse was comprised of a. my being informed of the cheating and b. being frequently, cruelly compared as inferior to cheating partners, exes, passers by, and celebrities. i was made to change my fashion sense and “aesthetic”. i was suddenly yelled at, at one time while the perpetrator was driving erratically for not “behaving” properly during dinner with their family. the physical abuse occurred when i was fully and forcibly isolated, and when i think was the most traumatic period of it all, as i was thousands of miles away from home in a rural area for the first time when the entire region emptied for break. following it, i was taken into the woods (of course, verbally assaulted). i distinctly remember my fear for my own life.
because it implicated my own sanity, the psychological abuse was far more insidious. i was told i had done things i had not done and that the perpetrator had already shared this information with their social circle. i heard the perpetrator repeatedly deny the abuse and once threaten me as the real offender. i lost someone to self-inflicted death in the past, and the abuser not only taunted me with it, but implicitly threatened me with their repeating of the traumatic event. i want to reiterate that i did absolutely nothing to warrant any of this. additionally, i am ashamed to say that if not for the verbal and physical distinct manifestations of the abuse, i would have failed to recognize the calculating, controlled, and skilled manipulation at work, and the danger i was (and acknowledge that i still am) in.
i hope you understand why this period has been difficult for me and how difficult this was to write. it has proven hard to hide behind the mask of intellect. my heart is forever filled with gratitude for anyone who has taken the time off their day to read this
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[Short Romance Story] The Moon
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, real people are used as reference but not in anyway representative of anyone or my relations with them.
The song of romance has been well written across time and culture. Lyrical and enchanting, full of melody and melancholia. I've never been able to well experience it. One of the joys and sorrows I've been unceremoniously excluded from. But I will try to explain it from my meager experience. It wasn't much of anything but it wasn't nothing.
If you would know anything of romance, you would know it is not grounded in reality. It is a fleeting charm and beauty, that comes and go. She wasn't as beautiful as you thought she was. He wasn't as handsome and amazing as you thought he was. It is just an illusion but it is the illusion we cling onto. Well-maintained physique will help you keep the illusion, reminding you of the roaring years of your youth. Which is also why love grounded in the physical will erode away. Yet we cannot deny it is the physical that will trigger our neurons. We can call it spiritual, we can call it fate but we cannot deny ourselves that the partial core truth of love is physical.
Yet if love was only purely physical, it would not have permeated through all of media and persisted through time and culture, poems, lyrics and prose. It would not have meaning in art and roses, in gems and stones. It would not exist in other symbols if it was just carnal.
And so, I shall attempt to write it, a story. A story that is just a little bit off the tone of reason. A nostalagia for the disaster that is my unrequited love.
My experience with the opposite sex during my youthful days were limited. I came from a boy school and did not interact with girls until I was in my late teens in Polytechnic. When I first spoke to her it was for a project, yet I did not feel the nervousness that a young boy teen would when he speaks with an attractive counterpart. But rather, I was above all, confused.
You see, even at a young age, I was full of self-doubt and low self-esteem. A clearly attractive girl talking to me with respect and without disgust, surprised me. I didn't have my hair done, I did not dress well, my skin complexion was awful (and still is). To watch and sit right next to her partaking complete, deep conversations with her, felt so satisfying. She was a natural academic. We both studied sociology as our elective but she was in a different field, food science. I wonder how far she got with that.
We had many conversations but she was mainly the one doing the talking, which I loved. She can go on and on about sociology and random little things. About how cute the way hair buns sat upon our classmates heads, about how qauntities of our daily energy was burnt by our brains during studies. And I would just sit there and listen, throwing in a joke or two and she would laugh. Those were simpler days.
Unfortunately for me, she was already with someone else. She never talked about him but not for the lack of love. But simply because they had spent so much time together that they were comfortable with each other. She had something precious and it was something she cherished dearly.
I knew I couldn't give her a better life. I knew I couldn't promise to make her happier. I knew myself too well, to believe that I could treat her better. I knew it wasn't possible.
But I did love her.
I knew the words that would cheer her up when she was sad. I knew the gifts to buy when she was feeling down. I knew the songs she would love when we were just relaxing. Every gift I bought, I took considerations. I care to be thoughtful but not romantic. What she treasured most, I treasured too. I do not dare to say we shared something. But there was something that was drawing us together, our love of the same intangible little things and value of what we considered good in ourselves that were not superficial. She drew me in, like tides to the Moon.
There was a day we were out on an assignment that required us to be out in the field, filling surveys with the public. We were paired up as a team and had to go door to door to have our surveys filled. Me being an extreme introvert, hated the acitivity. I was extremely nervous because I had to interact with strangers and moreover, she was dressed in a basic formal work attire with make up on. And that somehow, was extremely attractive to me. By the end of the day I was wrecked, distracted, tired and barely got anything done.
By the last hour, I was ready to give up. And she said, why not do one last block? But this time as a game between us both. To see which one of us could finish knocking all the doors whether answered or not. And as if the universe was responding to the call, there was unexpectedly another pair of surveyors from another team in the same block. Knowing this, we both sprinted, to race each other and the other team to knock as many doors as we could. We could hear each other talking to the residents as we went down the blocks, gauging each other's progress. Her sweet chiming voice gave me more motivation to move along through doors faster. With a simple suggestion she changed my tone towards the assigment. We had more surveys filled in that apartment block, than any other blocks that day. At the end of the night, we were exhausted but we were happy. We had so much fun and I wonder if it could stay that way. But I knew it couldn't.
At the end, the course didn't worked out for me. She excelled in her's while I struggled in mine. The studies were about people and I do not work well with them. No matter how hard I worked, changed or adapted. I could not achieve what I needed to achieve to follow where she went. Besides, having your significant other work in the same field as you is a terrible idea ( at least that was what I told myself ).
She eventually caught on and had a inkling about my feelings for her. Things became awkward and I withdrew. But we did not drift apart in bad faith. And she did not cut me out of her circle. I could still see her holiday photos of her and her partner and their families on social media. Which is all fine with me, I feel no sorrow, I am happy that she is happy. I feel no regret because I had given what I could give.
She was like the Moon to me and I am the man in the valley. Gazing up at her in the field of many stars. She was the one I felt closest to, despite being so far. She was not my first love and probably not my last. But she might have been the one that is the most enchanting and more radiant than a star.
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maybe unpopular opinion but from someone who was brought up very religious, has not been religious for a very long time now, no longer associates with religion on a personal level at all, is respectful of all religions, in fact is interested and excited about other people’s religious journeys, has also done academic studies on multiple world religions and is sometimes yearning to go back in time to when I had faith but knowing I never will again in the same way bc I just don’t believe the same way little me did and I cannot at this point in time but regardless I liked who I was more back then and I miss how simple it all felt in comparison to when I stopped “believing”.. I really think when it comes down to it, no matter what religion you are following, religion and faith teaches you to have respect for yourself and love for yourself and that’s why people feel saved. Whilst some people externalise God and aim to serve God by being their best self, my personal belief is that God is just you. God is something within you. Every day when you pray to God you pray to yourself. You believe God will pull through for you therefore telling your subconscious that you can get through this. You know that God has a greater plan for you therefore you trust in the universe and make the best of your situation. You are a child of God or whatever it may be so now you have a purpose in being yourself. I really think the concept of God is just a way to externalise your inner good. It’s easier to pray to God than to beg of yourself to get it together when you have nothing to visualise putting your faith into. You’re so much stronger with God because you have strength in yourself. Totally respect if people disagree and open to exploring this further myself as I can’t know the truth for sure, but it’s just something I’ve always seemed to understand through my personal observation and experiences I guess. Either way I just really want to respect myself again to the extent I used to when I knew wholely that God was the same God in me and the animals and the trees and that God loved us all :,)
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scum villain is a greek tragedy disguised as a regular tragedy disguised as a comedy disguised as a danmei
this is going to be long, and this is only PART ONE.
a.k.a, Analysing the plot of Scum Villain’s Self Saving System through Aristotle’s Poetics, because I Have Mental Issues
Part One: Introduction and the Tragic Hero
Scum Villain’s Self Saving System is a tragedy disguised as a comedy, unless you’re Shen Yuan, in which case it’s a mixture of a romance and a survival horror. It's a fever dream. It's a horrible, terrible book that made me feel new undiscovered emotions when I finished reading it.
The thing is... SVSSS shares characteristics with some of the most famous tragedies in the West, such as Oedipus Rex, Medea, Antigone, the Oresteia... if you haven’t read these, I’ll explain everything. But the gist of my argument is this: SVSSS is the perfect tragedy. In triplicate.
Tragedy as a genre is old as balls and so it has meant slightly different things to different people over the last few thousand years. I'll be focusing on ancient Greek tragedy, which was performed at the yearly Festival of Dionysus in Athens during the 500-350s BC (give or take a hundred years). Aristotle, when writing about this very specific subset of tragedy, had no idea that one day Scum Villain would be written, and then that I would be using his work as a way to look at Shen Qingqiu’s Funky Transmigration Mistake. Anyway!
Greek tragedy greatly influenced European dramatic tradition. I have a lot of opinions about white academics idolising and upholding the classics as the "paragon of culture" but I'll withhold them for now. I have no idea if MXTX has read Greek tragedy or not, so don't take this as me saying they are writing it.
In my opinion, tragedy is a universal human constant. We are surrounded by pain and hurt and none of it makes any sense, so we seek to process that pain through drama, art, literature, etc. We want to understand why pain happens, and how it happens, and try to make sense of the senseless. The universe is cold and cruel and random. Tragedy eases some of that pain.
On that note: Just because I am analysing Scum Villain through a Greek lens doesn't mean that it was written that way. I'm pasting an interpretation onto the book when there's probably a very rich and deep history of Chinese tragedy that I just don't know about. If you ever want to talk about that, please, god, hit me up, I would love to learn about it!!
Anyway, tragedy. MXTX is excellent at it! Mo Dao Zu Shi? Painful dynastic family tragedy. Heaven Official's Blessing? Mostly romance, but she managed to get that pure pain in there, huh?
But in my opinion, Scum Villain holds the crown for the most tragic of her stories. MDZS was more of a mystery. TGCF was more of a romance. Neither of them shy away from their tragic elements.
Scum Villain would fit right in between the work of Sophocles, Euripides and Aeschylus. How? Let me show you. Join me on my mystery tour into the world of "Aristotle Analyses Danmei..."
Part One: The Tragic Hero
What is a tragic hero? Generally, Greek tragic heroes are united by the same key characteristics. He must be imperfect, having a "fatal flaw" of some kind. He must have something to lose. And he must go from fortune to misfortune thanks to that fatal flaw.
There are two (technically three) tragic protagonists in SVSSS and all of them are tragic in different but formulaic ways. Each protagonist has their own version of “hamartia” or a “fatal flaw”.
Actually, hamartia isn’t necessarily a flaw - rather, it is a thing which makes the audience pity and fear for them, a careful imperfection, a point of weakness in the character’s morality or reasoning that allows for bad things to happen to them. For example, in Oedipus Rex, the king Oedipus has a “fatal flaw” of always wanting to find the truth, but this isn’t exactly a flaw, right? Note: this flaw can be completely unwitting, as we see with Shen Yuan. It can also be something that the protagonist is born with, some kind of trait from birth or very young.
Shen Yuan
Shen Yuan’s “hamartia” is his rigid adherence to fate and his inability to read a situation as anything but how he thinks it ought to be. He believes that Bingmei will grow into Bingge, and it takes several years, two deaths, and some truly traumatising sex to convince him otherwise.
Shen Jiu
Shen Jiu’s fatal flaw is his cruelty. It is his own sadistic treatment and abuse of Binghe which directly leads to his eventual dismemberment. This is kind of a no-brainer. Of course, it isn't all that simple, and as an audience we pity him for his cruelty as much as we fear it because we know it comes from his own abuse as a child. This just makes him even more tragic. Delicious.
Luo Binghe
Luo Binghe’s fatal flaw is a complicated mix of things. It is his position as the “protagonist” which compels him to act in certain ways and be forced to suffer. It is his half-demonic heritage, something entirely out of his control, which sets in motion his tragic reversal of fortune when he gets yeeted into the Abyss. He also, much like Shen Yuan, has the propensity to jump to conclusions and somehow make 2 + 2 = 5.
As well as having their respective “flaws”, all three protagonists match the rough outline of a good tragic hero in another way: they are in a position of great wealth and power. Even when you split the different characters into different “versions”, this still holds true. Yes, Luo Binghe is raised a commoner by a washerwoman foster mother, but his dad is an emperor and he also ends up becoming an emperor himself.
Yes, Shen Jiu is an ex-slave and a victim of abuse himself, but Shen Qingqiu is a powerful peak lord with an entire mountain’s worth of resources at his back.
Shen Yuan is a second generation new money rich kid.
Bingge is a stereotypical protagonist with a golden finger. Bingmei is a treasured and loved disciple with a good reputation and a privileged seat by his shizun’s side.
In a tragedy, having this kind of good fortune at the beginning of your story is dangerous. Chaucer says that tragedy is (badly translated into modern english) “a certain story / of him that stood in great prosperity / and falls out of high degree / into misery, and ends up wretchedly”. If we follow this line of thinking, a good tragedy is about someone who has a lot to lose, losing everything because of one fatal point of weakness that they fail to address or understand.
If we look at Shakespeare, this is what makes King Lear such a fantastic tragic protagonist. He is a king in control of most of England, who from his own lack of wisdom and excess of pride, decides to split his kingdom apart to give to his daughters, favouring his murderous, double crossing progeny, and condemning his only actually filial daughter to death. He loses his kingdom, his mind, and his beloved daughter, all because of his own stupidity.
This brings us to:
Part Two: Peripeteia
This reversal of fortunes is called peripeteia. It is the moment where the entire plot shifts, and the hero’s fortunes go from good to bad. Think of it like one of those magic eye puzzles, where you stare at the image until a 3D shark appears, except you realise the shark was always there, you just couldn't ever see it, waiting for you, hungry, deadly, always lurking just behind that delightful pattern of random blue squiggles.
Each tragic hero has their own moment of peripeteia in SVSSS, sometimes several:
Shen Qingqiu
In the original PIDW, SQQ’s peripeteia presumably occurs when he finds out that Bingge didn’t perish in the Abyss but has actually been training hard to come and pay him back. There’s really not much I’m interested in saying here - as a villain, OG!SQQ is cut and dry, and the audience doesn’t really feel any pity or fear for him. As Shen Yuan often mentions, what the audience feels when they see OG!SQQ is bloodlust and sick satisfaction. There is also the trial at Huan Hua Palace, which I will talk about in Shen Yuan’s section.
Shen Yuan (SQQ 2.0)
One of SY’s most poggers moment of peripeteia is the glorious, terrifying section between hearing Binghe for the first time after the Abyss moment, and getting shoved into the Water Prison.
“Behind him, a low and soft voice came: “Shizun?”
Shen Qingqiu’s neck felt stiff as he slowly turned his head. Luo Binghe’s face was the most frightening thing he had ever seen.
The scariest thing about it was that the expression on his face was not cold at all. His smile wasn’t sharp like a knife. Rather, it showed a kind of bone-deep gentleness and amiability.”
This is the moment of true horror for Shen Yuan, because he knows what happens next: the plot unfurls before him, inevitable and painful, and he knows that death awaits him at Luo Binghe's hands (lol). Compare it with the bone deep certainty with which he faces his own downfall during the sham of a trial later in the chapter (I’ve bolded the important part):
“In the original work, Qiu Haitang’s appearance signified only one thing: Shen Qingqiu’s complete fall from grace. [...] Shen Qingqiu’s heart streamed with tears. Great Master… I know you’re doing this for my own good, but I’ll actually suffer if she speaks her words clearly. This truly is the saying “not frightened of doing a shameful deed, just afraid the ghost (consequences) will come knocking”!”
After the peripeteia is usually the denouement where the plot wraps up and the threads are all tied together leaving no loose ends, but because this tragedy isn’t Shen Yuan’s but the former Shen Jiu’s, it’s impossible to finish.
Shen Yuan cannot provide the meaningful answers that the narrative demands because 1) he doesn’t have any memory of doing anything, and 2) he wasn’t the person who did them. Narratively, he cannot follow the same path as the former SQQ because he lacks the same fatal flaw: cruelty.
This is why Binghe doesn’t kill him - because he loves him, rather than despises him. And this is why Shen Yuan has to sacrifice himself and die for Luo Binghe in order to save him from Xin Mo: because the narrative demands that denouement follows peripeteia, and SQQ’s fate is in the hands of the narrative.
(Side note: I believe that this literal death also represents the death of OG!SQQ's tragic arc. The body that committed all those crimes must die to satisfy the narrative. SQQ must die, like burning down a forest, so that new growth can sprout from the ashes. After this, Shen Yuan's story has more room to develop instead.)
It must happen to show Bingmei that SQQ loves him too. And this brings us to Bingmei.
Bingmei
Bingmei has two succinct moments of utter downfall. The first is a literal fall - his flaw, his demonic heritage, leads his beloved shizun to throw him down into the Abyss. From his point of view, SQQ is punishing him simply for the status of his birth. He rapidly goes from being loved and cherished unconditionally, to being the victim of an assassination attempt.
He realises that he is totally unlovable: that for the crimes of his species that he never had a hand in, he must pay the price as well: that his shizun is so righteous that no matter what love there was between them, if SQQ sees a demon, he will kill it. Even if that demon is Bingmei.
The second moment is when SQQ dies for him. Again, from his point of view, he was chasing after a man who was struggling to see him as a human being. Shen Qingqiu’s death makes Bingmei realise that he has been completely misunderstanding his shizun: that SQQ would literally die for him, the ultimate act of self sacrifice from love: that SQQ loved him despite his demon heritage.
Much like King Lear holding the corpse of his daughter and wailing in sheer grief and pain because he did this, he caused this, Bingmei gets to hold his shizun's cold body and cry his eyes out and know that it was his fault. (Kind of.)
(Yes, I’m bringing Shakespeare into this, no I am not justifying myself)
Maybe I'm a bit sadistic, but that scene slaps. Let me show you a comparison of scenes so you get the picture.
Re-enter KING LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms; EDGAR, Captain, and others following
KING LEAR
Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:
Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so
That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever!
I know when one is dead, and when one lives;
She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass;
If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,
Why, then she lives.
[...]
KING LEAR
And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life!
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,
And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,
Never, never, never, never, never!
Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.
Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,
Look there, look there!
Dies
Versus this scene in SVSSS:
Luo Binghe turned a deaf ear to everything else, greatly agitated and at a loss of what to do. He was still holding Shen Qingqiu’s body, which was rapidly cooling down. It seemed like he wanted to call for him loudly and forcefully shake him awake, yet he didn’t dare to, as if he was afraid of being scolded. He said slowly, “Shizun?”
[...]
Luo Binghe involuntarily held Shen Qingqiu closer.
He said in a small voice, “I was wrong, Shizun, I really… know that I was wrong.
“I… I didn’t want to kill you…”
PAIN. SO MUCH BEAUTIFUL PAIN. Yes, I know Shakespeare isn’t Athenian, but he was inspired by the good old stuff and he also knew how to write a perfect tragedy on his own terms. Anyway. I’ll find more Greek examples later.
This post was a bit all over the place, but I hope it has been fun to read. Part Two will be coming At Some Point, Who Knows When. This is a bit messy and unedited, but hey, I’m not getting paid or graded, so you can eat any typos or errors. Unless you’re here to talk to me about Chinese tragedy, in which case, please pull up a seat, let me get you a drink, make yourself at home.
ps: if you want to retweet this, here is the promo tweet!
#svsss#scum villain#luo binghe#shen qingqiu#shen jiu#greek tragedy#hello followers this account has been silent for a long time but today i bring you whatever this is#long post#i am gonna cross post more art here from my twitter i think#you guys really like my shitposts on here
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#we were not made for each other
UNREQUITED LOVE —when you love someone who doesn’t love you back
CHARACTERS. Albedo; gn! Reader (slight Kaeya x Reader)
WORD COUNT. 1.4k words
THEMES. college au… with a twist. angst ofc.
NOTES. remember: what you think is not what it is. also, i went off on this one because this is kind of inspired through experience :))
ANGSTOBER MASTERLIST || DO YOU LIKE MY CONTENT? SEND A TIP HERE!
ALBEDO is so pretty, isn’t he?
You found him pretty, especially in the first time you say him.
The wings of time had flown and ventured the worlds with its book of life, clinging on to the unchanging sun and the dimness of the night. All shall be for naught, you and him were not made for each other.
You thought it all started on the first day of class, he was sitting right beside you, eyes trained over the window pane, face cloaked with a gentle ray of sunlight, making him shine above any other else in the room. Even if you didn’t know anything about him yet, you were at the very least curious to learn more. Albeit the fact that he was known and rumored to be as a “genius,” the boy with aquamarine eyes that were decorated with long, beautiful lashes unleashed an innate curiosity inside of you. As someone hadn’t expected what to come, you obliged to your urges and etched your way into his life, not knowing the consequences of such actions.
If you stopped yourself at that time, at that very moment, would everything have been different?
“Albedo, your name is Albedo, right?” you could remember the smile you gave him; so tender, so innocent. You think you can never forget how he responded back to you, almost mirroring your own features as he said the words,
“Yes, do you know me?”
It was such a harmless question once you’ve heard it directly that day, one that you laughed off as you properly introduce yourself to him, to which he did the same, but it was such a foreshadowing of what’s to come in the future, where all else fails and you were left broken with the ashes of your heart.
“Albedo, is this correct?”
His eyes scanned the writings of the notebook you held onto him, smiling at you once done before “We have different answers but there’s no guarantee mine is the right one.”
And despite all of that, he held the standard of a proper work in his solutions, leading you to believe that he was somehow the best of the best students out there. There was nothing wrong in trying to befriend him, he was your seatmate, someone whom you should be getting along with for you’ll be stuck with each other for the rest of the year. And yet there he was, trying to break the bond before it even started.
“Please don’t be attached to me.”
Six; six words and in a span of a second, you didn’t feel like you wanted to stand on the ground anymore. You wanted the gravel to swallow you up whole and hide you from everyone else, especially him.
“What?”
You liked him as a friend, but now that you finally could confirm that you could consider him as one, it feels like everything crumbled down before it was even built. What went wrong?
“I cannot elaborate further, I’m… I apologize,” he doesn’t look away; doesn’t show any embarrassment at all.
He looked like an empty shell of a human; devoid of any emotion in his face despite the beautiful glitter in his eyes. Confused, you were, yet you respected his words, accepted that maybe he didn’t like you even as his friend.
That was until your curiosity had gotten the best of you.
Who said it was not difficult to have thoughts about him? He was your seatmate, someone whom you had grown used to talking to, to ask academic questions, and he all of a sudden says to you not to grow attached to him? How odd of him to say that when you never implied having such feelings about him. Perhaps he was just thinking about it too much?
There was nothing wrong with asking him right?
“Hey Albedo, you know, you were being funny the last time,” you started the conversation while you two were working on a Chemistry activity side-by-side, also by coincidence! You’ve been really careful nowadays to not make him jump into conclusions that you were “getting attached” to him so of course you had to take necessary precautions.
“What was funny?” he inquired in a rather blank tone, much like usual, you supposed.
“You do know I only see you as a friend,” you laughed awkwardly, a failed attempt of trying to lighten up the mood, “what makes you think I will… ‘get attached’ to you, well that’s unless that isn’t what you meant?”
Now you were second guessing. It was strange, how he could look you straight in the eye and not offer any sort of hint as to what he may be thinking of; what thoughts lurks and swims in his mind for you to guess what to say next.
“Like I said before,” he looks away, focusing on the experiment in front of both of you, “I cannot disclose the information why, I apologize.”
Time fluttered by before you knew it, silence in the air, with the idle chatter flowing right by your ears, only to be left unbothered from the noises of thoughts that also traveled the depths of your mind.
“You mustn’t overthink things, y’know,”
Your eyes snap to the person in front of you, raising a brow almost instantly at his sudden appearance.
“How did you even know I’m overthinking, Kaeya?”
The tall man slips his way by your side, leaning on the wall as you continue cleaning the beakers and other instruments that were used for the experiment early on. You figured it was a good way to clear your mind and to probably also not run into the boy who had been the source of your thoughts for most of the days.
“It’s all over your face, little dove,” he smirks, “is it because of who I think it is?”
“Well, you are always right, Kaeya, what can I say?” You begin to sigh in defeat and look away from him, “I guess he merely doesn’t see the chemistry between us even as friends… no pun intended.”
A hearty laugh escapes from the other, one that must have caught others’ eyes from how loud and overly expressed it was, “You’re funny, you know that, right? Albedo must be lucky to have you.”
“Have me?” you retorted, raising your brows at him, “I have no feelings for Albedo!”
“But…” you added, “He’s pretty, I admit.”
Feelings lost, but never forgotten; the world may spin, but fate never changes; the past stays in the past, but the future lies what history made it to be.
You two were never made for each other.
“Like I said, I cannot disclose anything else.”
Sighing, he sees you turn and look away, “You’re a tough one to crack, are you? I just want to be friends with you.”
It had been several days since the time he said those words to you and yet you seemingly haven’t given up on the implications of his condition; why?
Why must you be so curious about him?
He had gone so far as to request moving seats far from you, to blatantly ignoring you whenever you tried to call.
Why, you ask?
Why is he so hell bent on trying to get you far away from him no matter how insignificant this must be?
“Albedo, do you not like Y/n?”
The question caught him off-guard—well, not merely by its content but by the owner of the voice as well.
“You know, you should appreciate what you’ve got before you lose them.”
Ah, how ironic, he wanted to say out loud.
Those were the very same words Kaeya told him before—in the past that had been forgotten but not for him. Albedo could recall everything by heart; every second, every pain, every heartache.
“They will never like me,” you two were not made for each other.
“How can you say that?” Kaeya interjects.
For once, Albedo looked up and made contact, tempted to say everything—to reveal the truth that he’d held back since the day he saw you again.
Because it had always been you and Kaeya.
It was never him and you.
“We were not made for each other,” was the most viable reason.
And maybe it should always stay that way, even if your present self has not realized it yet.
TAGLIST (pls send an ask to be added~)
@softlybeloved @rim0na @icecappa @cozykaii @scaraslover @beastielevi @cursedraiden @thesatanofpizza @izayanna @stellumi @coco-goat-milk @nonniechan
#genshin x reader#albedo x reader#albedo x y/n#kaeya x reader#genshin angst#genshin fluff#genshin drabbles#genshin oneshots#bluexiao.angstober#angstober
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richard webb bf hcs
masterlist
guys guys guys I love him so much so much so much so much he's so adorable and HES JUST SWELL I want to wrap him into a blanket and keep him away from the world
if you’re part of a task force yourself,, you probably met Richard in training,, when you handed his ass to him and he looked at you with heart eyes,,
you thought he'd probably be really egoistical, because you did embarrass him in front of like his friends and fellow soldiers, but oh boy, are you wrong.
ever since then, he's been awfully nice to you and refers to you as “captain” or “sarge” even if you're the same rank as him,, to show your superiority,, and he listens to your orders very intently,, with a little bit of teasing here and there,,
on the field,, he tries his best to stay especially close to you cause how could he let his favorite captain get hurt, right?
and you find yourself getting red when he says that and you're like “webb i’m going to kill–”
“you can kill me later but first, let me take you out on a date.”
and that's how it started!!
you're surprised to find out that he's husband material and is such a big softie oh LORD
he takes you out on such cute dates,, like taking you to a picnic and feeding you strawberries or like taking you to restaurants,,
speaking of which THIS MAN always smells so good like?? how???
he uses pet names like “babe” “darling” “beautiful” “sweetheart”
he LOVES kissing you so much especially forehead kisses and knuckle kisses!! LOVES tummy kisses too omg he's obsessed with like playing with your hair when you two are cuddling together,,
he ofteen reads to you to help you sleep and his voice is so comforting omg </3
he loves discussing politics and stuff!! getting into heated debates is probably his favorite thing because he gets so passionate about them,, and we know this because he belonged to a family of academics and had no actual intention of joining the war,, until he was drafted
you’ve probably also become friends with the rest of the crew but most importantly, Arthur. They're both best friends so they hang out more often,, and boy does Arthur have many embarrassing stories about Richard,, at one point Richard has to kick him out for the sake of his respect
que Lucas telling you how he was about to deck Richard because he spoke in the favor of Arthur when they got caught lmaooo
the war,, like any other thing has taken a toll on him and he just needs a lot of love and patience sometimes,,
fights happen because he sometimes doesn't understand other people's point of view and kind of gets a tad bit stubborn,, so you have to literally explain it to him word by word,, but he always apologizes because he cannot see you upset,,
his most favorite moments are when the two of you are just talking about your day,, it's very intimate,, the way he's holding you,, and he wishes moments like this could last forever
all in all. why do they always do it to my favorite characters? if you've played the campaign YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN I HATE IT HERE
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all i do is wait - kdy
All I Do Is Wait | So Close
⤑ summary: one day, kim doyoung was alive. the next, he wasn’t. he left you and the world too soon, but he made a promise: to look out and wait for you until the very end.
⤑ pairing: doyoung x female reader
⤑ word count: 22.7k
⤑ genre: angst (so much longing), major slow burn, fluff (if you squint really well), slight unprotected smut (not my forté) | ghost!doyoung, hotel del luna!au, slight college!au, 40s to 90s!au (loads of flashbacks)
⤑ warnings: death, grief, explicit language, sexism (screw the patriarchy omfg), mentions and scenes of alcohol, drinking, smoking, war, unplanned pregnancy, childbirth, and abortion, ghost possession of humans (in like one scene only tbh)
⤑ playlist: fly away with me by nct 127 | all about you by taeyeon | doll by baekhyun and doyoung | give you my heart by iu | wait by exo | like a fool by nive and sam kim | falling by harry styles | lovers by anna of the north | fallingforyou by the 1975 | you are the sunshine of my life by stevie wonder
⤑ long author’s note: minors, beware of the warnings! i highly recommend you watch the kdrama beforehand so you would understand the universe, even if majority of the characters are from my imagination. i also did some prior historical research. though there are inaccuracies, this story is just fiction. importantly, i don’t own the hotel del luna series; they serve as the main inspiration but with some of my twists. i’m also bit rough with writing lately, so there’s also room for improvement. overall, prepare your heart.
i cried so much in the process.
italicized texts symbolize conversations in a dream call. *wink* *wink*
⤑ gif above not mine, ctto! leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!
After all decades of waiting, it’s finally time.
As a soul still wandering in the living world, Doyoung’s options were limited. To peacefully go ahead into the afterlife or wait for his lover by working in the hotel for ghosts until she passed.
He’d chosen the latter, the betrayal he felt from the deities to have gone so soon.
And leave you behind.
But first, let’s take a trip down Doyoung’s journey; life, death, and after it.
1948
Kim Doyoung came from a well-off family. He was a university student, taking up journalism as a pre-law course. He wanted to right the wrongs and let justice prevail. Blessed by his privilege, he wanted to be of service to others who cannot afford it.
Both of you crossed paths at a university in Busan as seatmates. Right after the South Korean constitution granted women’s rights to education, immediately you aimed high and applied for the top universities in the city. After being homeschooled and self-studying under the books, the opportunity to go to an actual school was like a dream come true especially when you received acceptance letters from all of them.
Your first impression of him was that he was moody and quite snobby. When you politely asked him once if you can take a peek at his notes because you lost track of the professor’s lecture, he refused with an annoyed glare.
“You should try harder then.” You nodded in gratitude anyways, taking those words to encourage you. Though it still stung.
When classes that day concluded, you were so ready to return to the women’s dorm and take a breather from men. Since you were far from your village, maybe you would give a call to your father, your mentor all your life to seek his guidance on your professors’ lessons. Once you found your bike and placing your books on the basket in front, a light tap on your shoulder caught you off-guard and almost made you topple over.
“Oh, sh-”
“Oh my, I’m sorry for scaring you like that.”
When you directed your body to the source, it was none other than Kim Doyoung. He removed his blazer from class, resting it on his arm. He wore these suspenders and leather loafers, sporting the rich, preppy boy look. His eyes looked softer, apologetic by the way he gave a slight pout.
“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. It was rude of me to shun you like that.”
Unfortunately, it was rare to find young men like him to own up to their mistakes When you’re the only woman in that class, the majority of the boys are either snickering with judgment at your presence.
“Women are only meant to stay at home.”
“She’s weak. She won’t last here with the deep, legal terminologies the professors use.” Those insults aren’t new to you.
Doyoung seemed like a plot twist in the social narrative. You were surprised, to say the least, yet relieved.
“Oh, it’s okay. Considering I interrupted you from listening to the professor, I could’ve waited after class or as you said, study harder.” You accepted.
Doyoung still felt awful for his attitude, fiddling his briefcase. He struggled to express himself through words, understanding why many had this impression of him being cold. If he were to be honest, his actual initial impression of you was that you were hardworking and resilient, setting a new example of the modern woman. He thought that being too soft on you in class may look degrading, thus his statement from the class was just him treating you the same way as other boys who don’t study hard enough. Unfortunately, it backfired completely.
As a man who grew up with the belief to always pay respect to everyone without discrimination, he had to make it up to you somehow.
“It’s still wrong of me to say that to you, (Y/N). So-” He trailed on, opening his case to bring out one of his notebooks. Without hesitating, he handed it to you. “I took as many notes from the lecture on fallacies here. If there’s any way I can help you in the future, I’m more than willing to help you.”
This newfound kindness from a boy in this patriarchal university may be the silver lining in your current stay. You weren’t too sure if you would get a chance like this in the coming years, so you gladly took it. Noticing the engraved “K.DY” on the lower right side of it, which were his initials, it’s easy to identify that he was rich. But his attitude was different than the others.
Placing it carefully in the front basket, you steadied your body to the handles and pedals of the bike. “Thank you for this, Doyoung. I will return it to you as soon as possible.”
Knowing he was of help to you, he flashed a gummy smile. “No problem, (Y/N). If you want, we can review it before class too just in case the professor gives another surprise quiz.”
You let out a laugh, being reminded of your horrified face on a previous surprise quiz in the past. “Oh god, I flunked that quiz! Damn him.”
Ever since that conversation, it’s where your friendship started.
Going to university became more enjoyable and less daunting, having Doyoung defend you from other boys (even if you’ve told him so many times that you can handle it). After you found out that Doyoung’s status was more elite than you assumed, a lot of boys wouldn’t want to try and test him since their family lines would be at risk. You had a better focus on your academics, and if it weren’t for you, other girls attending university with you would’ve never thought women students would befriend the men. You were the shift in the narrative.
As lucky as you are to have a female support system in the patriarchal university, you found yourself always hanging out with Doyoung. He was filled with so much compassion in his heart and there were beliefs that you both surprisingly shared in your conservative society, deepening your bond. One of them was the sexist view of women as low-status people. He told you one time that thinking that way is like thinking his loving mother is undeserving of things in life. It’s an unacceptable concept, he added. You even met his mother at some point, and she’s a sweetheart.
Another was having the frustration towards those who shame on women who want to study and learn rather than to submit to the power of men so early in their lives.
“I’m so sick of people telling me to stop studying and settle down with some random boy. There’s just so much to learn out here!” You complained. It was one hot weekend that time, and you were both relaxing under the shade of a big tree by a flowing river. That spot is hidden, thus claiming it as your spot. Doyoung leaned by the tree reading while you rested on his lap. At this point, you’ve grown very comfortable with him. Doyoung sighed, putting his book to discuss his thoughts.
“Agreed. You seriously deserve so much better, (Y/N). People today just don’t get it.”
Huffing away that stress, your head tilted to get a better view of Doyoung.
“Doyoung, do you think things will get better for women in the future?” He admired your hopefulness in times of trouble. Stroking your hair to soothe you, he gave a positive reply.
“If we keep fighting for it, then we’ll progress. So let’s not give up, okay?” Your heart couldn’t help but leap.
As he looked at you with blooming flowers from the tree in the background, it was a matter of time where your initial feelings for him diverted into something more. The concept of butterflies in your stomach was only introduced to Doyoung in novels, but he wondered if it’s the exact feeling he was getting from you. From your intelligence to your sharp tongue to fight back the rude boys, the list goes on all the traits that he liked about you.
Weeks later, the questionable status of your friendship changed after he unexpectedly kissed you for the first time while stargazing at your special spot. It caught you off guard at first as your lips froze, him pulling away immediately. He rubbed the nape of his neck out of embarrassment, struggling to maintain eye contact with you.
“Oh shit. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I screwed up everything, didn’t I?”
As much as the heat in your cheeks increased, you couldn’t deny that you liked it. You’re bold enough to do it again.
“Nope,” you shook your head at him. “Kiss me again, Doyoung.”
Like a movie, the first snow of the season drizzled down on the two of you.
Feeling braver, he leaned forward again to meet your lips again. You may not be experienced physically since it was your first, but that’s what all those romance novels you’ve browsed through are for. Forget the fireworks, people would compare the ideal kiss. It was more like everything paused so this moment can run on its momentum. Lips still locked, Doyoung gripped your waist so you can sit on his lap. As the friction intensified, his lungs needed to breathe for a second. Pulling away slowly, it was an opportunity to take a good look at you. Flustered, messy hair, swollen lips, he would’ve never known that the feelings were mutual.
“First kiss under the first snow? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
1950
Dating Doyoung gave you the best two years of your life. He’d bike with you to your spot, recommend you new books to read, cook for you when you’re too lazy to at the dorm, and take you around the city he was ever so familiar with.
“Oh c’mon, let’s try this out!”
You dragged his arm to this new contraption that can take your photos in a flash. This was at an annual city fair, your first time to attend one. Because your small village couldn’t cater to these kinds of events, you beamed with excitement with all the amusement outlets such as rides, games and more. All Doyoung wanted was to eat and play few games, then return. He wasn’t much for photos, but because it was your first, he decided to go for it. Two people couldn’t fit the cushion, so you settled on his lap. One arm wrapped behind his neck, you inserted a few coins to activate the machine.
“So we have a few seconds before it starts, so you better smile, okay?” He ordered you based on the instructions of the machine.
The first shot was matching grins, the second showed your bright smiles, the third let your creativity wild with silly expressions, and the last was him pecking your cheek unexpectedly. The authentic surprise was captured.
“Let’s take another one so you can have a copy.” You insisted, searching through the small pockets of your purse for more coins.
“(Y/N), it’s okay. I don’t want-” He was cut off by the machine activating again as your coins entered inside.
“Too late, smile!” The first shot almost caught Doyoung in a frenzy, but he pulled it off with an open smile. The second expressed your laughter from your slyness, him sporting crinkled eyes when you let your tongue out and placed your hands near the temples of your head to mock him. To sort out your playfulness, Doyoung surprised you by grabbing your wrists to place them back on his shoulders. Without a breath, one free hand tugged you closer and his lips shut you up. You deepened your kiss by leaning forward and fisting the hems of his buttoned-up top. Kissing back was natural, not caring where you were and if the camera snapped your moment of intimacy. Doyoung always liked taming you with his kisses. You didn’t mind making out for a bit in the booth if it weren’t for the loud knocking from the side put a stop to your risqué antics.
“Yah! Take your making out session someplace, other people are waiting outside!”
The both of you could care less, laughing mid-kissing at the disturbance you’ve caused. It’s a thing when you’re young and in love, perhaps. Eventually, innocent kisses ignited an invitation to his bed.
“I’ve never done this before, but I want to do it with you.” You gave your full consent, laying on his soft bed in your undergarments. His entire family went on vacation, so you took advantage of it.
The way he crawled on top of you, his slender hands spreading your legs wide open like another novel waiting to be unraveled. Erotica was a genre you never explored, but Doyoung finds it as his guilty pleasure. Who would’ve known that the most prestigious, gentleman-like man of the university found amusement in sex? His lingering touches intoxicated your entirety, allowing him access. His tongue did you wonders, releasing these sensations you’ve never known was possible. Tugging on his hair as he passionately devoured your core for the first time, this knot in your core unwound and your vision went white for a split second. This rush of pleasure and exhaustion filled your veins, yet you craved more.
That night, giving each other your virginities, marked the first time you declared your love for each other.
Though there are times when dating wasn’t easy either, having prying eyes around you with judgment and the unavoidable stress from university, you’d sort things out in the end. After all, it’s in fights and arguments where you learn more about each other and grow from it.
If someone asked you to settle down already, Doyoung is the first candidate for your hand. You’ve sent letters to your parents talking about him and met his family.
“You’re the only girl who softens him up in this society of uptight men.” His mother whispered when you helped her wash the dishes after dinner.
As much light he brought to your life those two years being together, it turned into the worst and something questionable when the Korean war began.
You vividly remember the day Doyoung admitted to you his enlistment in the South Korean army. It was mandatory for men his age to serve. His dream to pursue law was to be put on hold, especially when schools were closing down. Though he’d try to confide with himself that serving in this war is another way to help his country, his nationalism outweighed his fear of death. Just as long as it brings them closer to a better tomorrow, he was willing.
Unfortunately for you, you were terrified shitless because again, it’s a war. If your childhood wasn’t enough to recall all those painful emotions from the past world war, you didn’t know what would. Being able to survive is a miracle, so there was no way you would let Doyoung go. The ignorance you gave towards him to protect your heart, moving to your aunt and uncle’s home in the same city after the university suspended classes since going back to the village was a big struggle.
So many villages have been bombed already, increasing your anxiety. All you hoped now was to be reunited with your family safely. It’s a good thing though they already left as soon as they could and are on their way to the city. One normal day while you were teaching your younger cousins how to read, there was a knock on the front door. Since your aunt was busy cooking dinner, you took charge to open it in hopes you’ll find your family on the other side.
However, it was none other than that someone you still couldn’t face just yet. He wore the familiar dark green uniform with black combat boots, his fluffy hair fully shaved even it’s covered by his hat. By the dirt on his face, he must’ve trained earlier that day. With a heavy backpack behind him, he’s on his way somewhere but you didn’t know where. You closed the door behind you so you can speak to him privately.
“What are you doing here, Doyoung? How did you find me?”
“I knew you didn’t want to talk for a while, so I gave you space. But today, I found out that I’m going to be stationed in Seoul tomorrow.”
Seoul was where most of the war was happening. Your heart was shattered.
“So I went to your dorm, but your roommate told me you moved out and gave me this address here.” He answered honestly with this new burden to top it off, not having the courage to look you in the eyes to avoid crying. “I needed to see you, (Y/N).”
“Doyoung,” within those times of separation, you re-evaluated if running away from him was the right choice. Even if he tried to convince you of the good things about being in the army, everything always comes at a price. War meant his life was uncertain daily. You just wanted him to yourself, to stay by your side, to help out in the war in other ways, but it would be selfish to stop him from his goals. So you gently embraced him, making him drop his bag to the side. With extreme fear comes your soft whimpers against his chest. Rather than running away so fast, you should’ve mustered all those remaining bits of courage to spend it with him. He must be feeling terrified too.
“I’m just scared for you. War doesn’t guarantee anything. Us surviving world war two is still miraculous.” Doyoung winced at your truthful words as he returned that embrace. There go his tears that he shed almost every night since he told you about his enlistment.
“I had no choice, (Y/N). My family and I would be in big trouble if I didn’t follow orders.”
“I know. I’m sorry I ran away, Doyoung.” You continued to sob as you feel him stroke your hair from behind. He knew well that it was one way to calm you down.
“If only we didn’t live in harsh times like this.” He sighed, longing for the same thing. He cursed whoever decided to make him exist during a painful time. He would trade anything for a more peaceful life.
“Stay here for the night, please.” You pleaded, not wanting to waste any more time.
Your relatives were aware of your relationship, allowing such a request. They trusted you enough to sleep in the same room, knowing all too well the struggles of being love during times like this.
Neither of you held back from the tension that crept into the room. This time, you led him through the first kiss while his body laid flat on the cushion bed. On top, straddling him fully. Leaving him soft kisses on his neck while teasingly unbuttoning his pajama shirt, your fervent lips trailed from his neck, lowering to his sculpted abdomen, until you reached the waistband of his pajama pants.
Only in books did you learn about how to please men, so this may be the only time you can test it out. Doyoung stiffened on your soft kisses on his hard-clothed member, glancing him seductively back and forth when you stuck out your tongue.
“Please,” He begged, tugging on your hair. “Touch me.”
Your lips wrapped around his tip before gently going lower to your limit, and slowly sucked on it back and forth. Whenever you’d want to catch a breathe, you’d lick the tip teasingly. Doyoung groaned, threading his fingers along with your hair. He’s so used to be a giver that receiving these sensations by you beats his hand. It was heavenly, yet so vulgar. The way you swallowed his cum rather than spitting it out even if the taste wasn’t favorable, you were too much in a daze to process how sudden he switched positions. While you sprawled devilishly under him, your fingers looping on his dog tag necklace to bring him lower for a kiss while feeling two of his fingers go under your panties to teasingly play with your slick.
“Don’t t-tease...” You stuttered, clenching at how fast he can get you stimulated with his fingers.
The whole night long was consumed with his body against yours, the wet sounds of deep thrusts and muffled moans praising each other. The following morning, your naked bodies remained entangled. He was still in deep slumber when your body clock alarms you to wake up. though you couldn’t move when he had his arm around you. The love marks on his chest that you’ve made were more exposed when the sunlight hits him, your fingers carefully trailing on it so he wouldn’t be startled. He needed all the rest he can get.
If only you can have mornings like this when war wasn’t in the equation.
Bidding goodbye was tough. Breakfast was too quiet, just like how he packed his remaining belongings and dressed back to his uniform. You watched him by the patio as he waited for the bus to pick him up. When one finally arrived, he turned around to face you once more. He understood that neither of you wanted to say anything. It would make things harder.
You had to stay strong for him because he was fighting the scarier people. But as he waved goodbye, this was your only exception. Just before he boarded the bus,
“Fuck it.” You mumbled to yourself, running to him as your life depended on it.
“(Y/N), what are you-” Doyoung stopped at his tracks, awaiting your sudden move. You shut him up by desperately placing your lips against his, having that a tiny sliver of hope that it won’t be your last. His hands cradled your face while your arms tangled behind his neck.
It wasn’t until the annoyed coughs from the bus driver stopped your actions. Patting your dress from crinkling, Doyoung left a kiss on your forehead.
“Wait for me, alright? I’ll be back before you know it.” He reassured you.
“Fight strong and stay alive, Doyoung. I’ll always be here for you.”
“I love you, (Y/N).” He caressed your cheek one last time, your hand cupping it.
“I love you too, Doyoung.”
Both of you made sure to write to each other, just anything to keep in touch from being apart.
Oh, if only you knew how long you’d have to wait before seeing each other again.
1951
Doyoung was stationed in the infantry division, always staying prepared for the plans his side made and the active attacks started from the enemy side. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s gotten critically injured and knocked out, but he fought through it with his upcoming plans in mind. How he must fight for the country and stay alive to see the change. How he wanted to have a future with you when everything settles down. It was his motivation every time.
But it took one surprise attack many months later from the enemy side to take it all away. When one of the senior officers was shot, he shielded him without hesitation. All these firing bullets were shot on his back, his legs wobbling from the impact. Due to the non-stop bleeding and lack of urgent medical attention, he painfully lost his life while holding on to his officer.
“Please tell my lover that I love her and I’m sorry.”
Those were his last words before he took one final breath and flatlined.
Seconds later, his soul flowed outside his body and froze at the trippy feeling while witnessing different officers and people on the medic team mourn in front of his dead body. Taeyong, one of the people he befriended from the medic team, tried to wake him repeatedly.
“Doyoung, please don’t joke around. Wake up, please.”
Even if he knew it was hopeless, he did his best to the point his entire team had to pull him away from his best friend’s lifeless body.
“No, he needs to live! He has a family, big dreams, and a girl waiting back in Busan!” He sobbed in his chest. Out of all the people he tried to resuscitate, Doyoung was the first friend that he came across on this occasion. Doyoung ached at this vulnerable sight, wanting so badly to be by his side. With these surprise attacks, death is more prevalent than ever.
“Kim Doyoung?” An unfamiliar voice called for him from behind. He spun around to find one woman in war uniform, though he’s never encountered her in the field, and a man in all black.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Manwol, and he’s the grim reaper. I believe you just died a few minutes ago, correct?”
The truth was piercing to accept, glancing at his lifeless body on the side with Taeyong and another close friend he made, Jungwoo, crying his heart out.
“Are you going to take me already?” He asked.
“Unless you still have things you want to accomplish in the living world, then you can freely go to the other side.” The grim reaper answered monotonously, very much used to this question.
“From the looks of it, you have a lot you want to do still,” Manwol observed from afar, all too familiar with the feeling. “If you come with us, I can help you accomplish them.”
If something stayed with Doyoung until his last breath, it was his skepticism with the supernatural. He was unsure if he can trust them because according to the books, once you’re dead, that’s it. It’s up to the people around him to speak good or bad of him.
“You’re uncertain with our intentions, aren’t you?” Manwol easily read through his stoic expression. “You’ll be surprised with how many things can debunk from the books if you let us, Doyoung.”
For the first time, Doyoung had no clue what and where to go next. No one wrote a book on how to act like a cold, wandering soul. His dreams were limited, meaning he has to find new ones or tweak them a lot to make it possible. Despite her reserved nature, he figured that Manwol looked like someone who knows what she’s talking about. With the grim reaper he’s read in children’s books, he wasn’t as frightening as he was portrayed.
This was his last shot.
“Guide me, please.”
The car ride alone there was messy and bumpy since it was peak war season. He wasn’t the only person who lost their life that night and riding in the vehicle. He recognized a few of them. It was saddening to find the playful Donghyuck, his youngest companion, beside him.
“I sacrificed myself to protect two unarmed nurses in the medic tent when some enemy soldiers charged inside.”
Another was the wise Taeil, who was stationed by the barracks. He was one of the people in the front of in line for battle.
“I thought they were fooling with us, and then suddenly fired multiple attacks. I caught on to it quickly, but they still got me.”
Doyoung remembered all those times he used to ask for love advice from him when it grew hard to be far from you. But that advice is no longer useful when he’s further away from you. He was dead, you weren’t.
Once the three of them arrived at their destination, it was an inn that looked destroyed from the outside, but very organized on the inside. Donghyuck and Taeil decided already what they wanted to do before they cross the other side. Doyoung, on the other hand, was still contemplating.
Manwol knew well how to spot a heartbroken person, being one herself. She wasn’t one to interfere with these affairs, but maybe she’d make an exception. Seeing right through him, he lived a fruitful life. She saw his sacrifice, picking up on his last words being dedicated for you, his lover. He didn’t die in vain.
When the two men were off to follow their plans, Manwol took this chance to approach the downcast man again.
“Is something you holding you back from going…” She questioned, staying by his side for a moment. “…or a special someone?”
“I promised my lover to fight strong and to stay alive while she promised to keep waiting for me. But here I am. She has yet to know that I didn’t make it and I can’t bear to see her in utter pain.”
“Death during a war isn’t new, Doyoung. A lot of promises become broken.”
“But I had so much I wanted to do with her after, Manwol. I can’t just leave her yet, I want to stay by her side even if we can’t see each other physically.”
Based on the information Manwol received about Doyoung from the inn staff, it came to her attention that he was fond of books. Thus, it gave her an idea.
“Doyoung, you’re very similar to the staff here. They all have goals that take years to accomplish, so I gave them a job here.”
“What are you offering me then, Manwol?”
“I have a library here in dire need of a librarian. With your interest in books, would you like to take it? After all, I’m implying that you’d want to wait for your lover to make up for your broken promise.”
Doyoung can’t deny that she was wrong. This was where his journey at Manwol Inn (then became Hotel Del Luna) started. Time worked a little bit differently as a ghost, but it’ll be worth it until you return in his arms one day.
On the day you regrettably received the letter from the military about the tragedy, life has turned for the worst. Upon seeing a soldier by your front step, it was only an innocent habit to give him letters for Doyoung and receiving new ones. However, his hand halted you to hand over a military logo imprinted envelope addressed to you alongside his tidy military uniform other letters from Doyoung.
His last letters.
You had no courage to even complete reading it when the first few lines weren’t enough to taunt you. Nothing could prepare for this dreaded moment.
“We regret to inform you that a report from the war office has confirmed that Kim Doyoung was a casualty of the sudden attack of Seoul. this letter formally declares that he was killed in action....”
Dropping the god-forsaken letter in your hands, you instantly locked yourself in your room. Your parents, who picked it up to read, came running to your door and tediously knocking for you to open it. But you didn’t listen, the heartbreak being too grave.
You tried so hard to keep it together these past months. but this kind of grief resulted in your feeble figure pouring into a heap of salty tears and loud sobs. Your back against the wall smoothly slid down until your butt landed on the floor. You clutched on to your gut that continuously stabbed you back and forth.
Betrayal was an understatement, yet it was beyond his control. War guarantees nothing.
But not when you needed him more than ever, especially when the biggest yet most unexpected news came upon you. All nausea and wild mood swings in the weeks that followed after he left weren’t normal, only to find out that you were expecting his child.
It was a secret you didn’t know how to confront through letters because it was best to tell him in person. Due to the situation, it was impossible. Only in your latest letter did you finally come clean about it, but it was now never to be sent because he has already passed away. Your entire family wasn’t pleased with this outcome but they didn’t shame you for it either. It was your choice and body after all.
They were concerned about how others will perceive you in the long run. An unmarried woman carrying a dead man’s child is taboo in this conservative society. Yet abortion is seen in a bad light too. You were stuck in a double edge sword, but you knew from the beginning that you wanted to keep the child. It’s a struggle, for sure, and your plans will have to wait.
Amid this bad luck, this unborn child is the last closest piece of Doyoung.
Amongst your unavoidable flow of tears that you knew must be stopped so it wouldn’t badly affect your child, you placed a hand on top of your lower belly. There was already an evident swelling bump, but your choice to continue wearing loose clothing to swerve from the public’s judgment covered it fine.
Well, for now. Only in the last trimester, it was going to be a challenge.
“I’m sorry you won’t be meet your father....” You spoke, rubbing it upwards. “....But I’ll make sure to take good care of you. You’re all I have left of him.”
Ever since Doyoung accepted Manwol’s offer, he never left his spot at the library. He was amazed at the endless arrangements of books. Even the western books his parents banned him from reading as a child were there. All this entertainment can distract from the long time he has to wait.
Except for today specifically, he asked Jeno, a new friend he made who also lost his life during the Korean war, to take over for a few hours when he found out that mail was to be delivered in Busan.
“Hyung, are you sure?”
“I just need to see her, Jeno.”
Doyoung expected the heartache when he saw you cry in your bedroom after finding out, and he couldn’t refrain from crying with you. Even as a soul, he’d do anything to cradle you in his arms and say that things will get better in time. How he wanted to tell you to take your time in life and that he’s willing to wait until your time comes. Whenever it could be.
Sadly, he was right there listening to you talk to your unborn child. The disbelief of in his reaction; he was supposed to be a father. Sure, he was relatively young. People won’t approve of it because you were unmarried. But it was an early start to settling down with each other.
It took him a while to accept his unfortunate fate, but for him to be robbed of this meaningful part in life was more unbearable to deal with.
From that point, he made sure to watch over you even if he was invisible. Even if Manwol advised him not to so it won’t complicate anything, he reassured that he has it under control. As a ghost without any grudges, what’s there to throw a fit at? He could retaliate at the enemy soldiers who shot him fearlessly, but they are nowhere to be found and he had no interest to turn into ashes.
The only time he assisted you was when you were giving birth. It was an excruciating process, sweating and breathing intensely. You let a scream every time you pushed, like any of the herbs or medications you consumed were wearing off. Your body wanted to give up as it weakened at the loss of blood.
Childbirth is no joke, having high mortality rates during these times. It was a tempting choice you’d want to take as Doyoung is no longer alive. But you knew it was selfish to leave your child as an orphan.
Doyoung couldn’t withstand watching you struggle anymore. If there was a trick Manwol taught him, it was to possess people. It’s often portrayed as a negative skill, warning him to only use it when it’s an emergency.
The pitiful way your eyes were drained off energy, he had to step in. Observing the midwife panicking on your side even if she was giving you support, he took his chance to possess her. Adjusting to this body, it made him glad to feel your warm hand again.
“(Y/N), your child is almost here.” The doctor positively announced.
“I want a breather. The grim reaper should just take me.” You complained as your mother wiped the endless drops of sweat on your forehead. Doyoung took it to heart, knowing death firsthand was no joke.
“Yah, don’t say stuff like that, (Y/N). This child is bound to be an amazing addition to your life.”
You didn’t know how your timid midwife would straighten you up, but it motivated you a lot more to finish the process. Little did you know.
She gladly accepted your firm grips on her hand, giving affirmative responses to keep you going. In moments you closed your eyes to push, you couldn’t help notice in the corner of your eye how from the physique of your midwife, you swore you saw him. His hand holding yours instead of the midwife.
Was this in the medication? For a moment, you let a tear not from pain but from happiness to catch a glimpse of him in your weakest moment. Every day, you were missing him.
It took almost half an hour before a small set of wails bore in the room while you harshly threw yourself back in the bed to recover your breathing patterns. It knocked you out for a while. Doyoung, still possessing the midwife, was handed the newborn by the doctor and tasked to clean her up.
“It’s a healthy baby girl.” the doctor confirmed as he wiped away the blood on the floor.
He was then brought by your mother to a designated room to bathe the relaxed newborn in his arms.
His newborn.
His desire to phase out of the midwife and use his skill to be visible while holding his child was strong. But it’s too risky since the midwife can catch him. He sucked it up and proceeded in what the books taught him on bathing a baby. During his break time, he’d read all the parenting books he could find. It’ll be rare anyways for him to use the tips, but he always wanted to stay prepared.
As the bubbles of the soap surrounded the relaxed baby, he washed her delicately to avoid her from waking up. He was just mesmerized at how you and he created something so precious. He used to be the type of man to be awkward around kids, but after catering to many children in the library and now his child, it started to change.
“Hello there, little one. Your mother needs you, so you better be good to her.”
Ghosts were highly discouraged to make any more emotional connections with the living because they’ll just end up being hurt, making it harder to move on. Exactly what Doyoung is doing was that, and the more he bonded with his daughter, it was a rekindled kind of pain. The kind when you separate family from each other. The same one he felt when he bid his parents good-bye before joining the war, only to never come back.
To top this off, the tiny hand of his sleeping daughter, whom he finally dried off with a small towel and wrapped in a fresh blanket, sleepily grasped on his pinky finger. Technically, it was the midwife’s, but he was in control.
Nonetheless, the innocent gesture got him both feeling on top of the moon and disheartened at the same time. As he curled it in a silly manner, noticing the size difference, he leaned down to leave a kiss on top of her forehead.
“I’m sorry I’m going to miss out on your life. But I’ll always be here for you, even if I’m in the shadows. Don’t ever question my love for you. Because I do love you, wholeheartedly.”
Kim Areum.
That was the name you settled with when your daughter was finally in your arms. It’s ideal to give Doyoung’s last name too because she is half of him. After resting for quite a while, you noticed how the midwife suddenly shook her body and took a loud deep breath when she helped out cleaning the area up.
“Are you okay?” You question, noticing her state of confusion.
“Uhm, yeah....” She narrowed her eyes to her environment. “Oh wait, you gave birth already? Wow, that was pretty fast...”
“Yes, you were right beside me the whole time...” You glanced sideways at her, suspicious.
“Oh wow yeah, I was.” She tried to laugh it off. “It was like I had an out-of-this-world moment or something. Oh whatever, I sound stupid.”
That brought you back to your early doubts. Whether or not he showed up or you were somewhat hallucinating. But not wanting to reflect too much on the impossible, you merely refocused to the peaceful newborn nestled in your arms.
She’s the only one keeping you alive in these hard times. She served as a reminder of him, thus you’ll hold on to her. From the outside of your window, all Doyoung can do now is to continue watching from afar every once in a while.
1954
Not much has changed in the past few years. You were either reading or taking care of Areum. Your family was lucky enough to have good housing, but getting important necessities such as water and food was a constant struggle.
With the war leading to lots of souls in the inn, he had to fulfill his mandatory orders to prepare souls to move on. He was joyful to be of service to others like he was back in the day.
Though lately, it’s still unavoidable for him to ponder how exactly are you and his daughter are doing. Once Donghyuck and Taeil went ahead for the afterlife, the loneliness began to creep in. Then a while ago, Jeno introduced him to a new group of children today checking out the library. Caught in a deadly car accident on their way home from school, he pitied how such bright kids left the world too soon.
These factors sparked his longing, plus there was still something above that: it was your birthday soon. Much to his luck, Manwol just received a new gift from the deities that might be his biggest help in coping.
“A dream call?” Doyoung inquired once he was summoned by Manwol to the meeting room, sitting across her.
“Yes, a call to anyone from the living that you wish to talk to in their dreams. Though this can only be used once per visitor. The deities pitied those with loved ones who want to see them physically. Thus, they invented this.”
“What are you implying?”
“Doyoung, you know well how easy I can read people even through their fake smiles. You miss her very much.” Manwol replied, holding up the phone to his ear. “This is your chance, Doyoung. Even if you can’t see them, they will see you.”
The first dream started with you sitting at your old spot by the river, in a simple dress Doyoung bought for you on your last ever birthday celebration with him. The forest looked breathtaking as if it was still pre-war times again. The river was still clear of blood and pollution. It must be spring, the flowers above you on the tree were in full bloom.
The sound of bike wheels stopping to park in the grass and someone humming changed your point of interest. There was the only person in your mind who would do that. Jumping from your seated position, you looked behind the other side of the tree only to find him picking up flowers from the branches. He was tall, not having much difficulty getting them.
The way he looked so peaceful and well-rested. This beauty and peace of mind he radiated, it was unreal.
“Doyoung.”
He clenched on the phone with his hand, his concealed yearning to at least hear his name on your lips again urged a tear to go down his cheek.
“Happy birthday, (Y/N).”
He handed you the flower bouquet he made for you. Meanwhile, he suddenly dropped it when you didn’t hesitate to sling your arms around his waist. Your head pressed to his chest, pulling him closer you could care less if you lost your breath. Doyoung felt that tight hug, gripping on the part of his uniform where you placed your head. He rubbed it as if it was your hair.
None of you spoke a word and gracefully paused to take a moment.
Time in a dream call works a bit differently than in the living world. Once you’re in session, one minute alone of talking is equivalent to 30 minutes in the living world.
Doyoung took his first call to catch up with you and say everything he never got to before. It was also where he confessed how he knew about your daughter. There were guilt and regret at how you could’ve told him in your earlier letters.
“You were scared, (Y/N). There’s no way I can blame you.” Laying against his chest, he comforted you. “By the way, she has your nose, you know.”
There was this wave of relief that splashed you after this big burden lifted. You can live a more untroubled life now.
“She has your temper though.” You jokingly say, putting you in a fit of giggles. It’s been too long since you experienced genuine humor.
“At age 3? Yah, I’m impressed.” He remarked with pride.
Since Doyoung wasn’t capable to be physically affectionate in the dreams, he was more on receiving them from you. In return, he gave sincere conversations even if they were a yearly thing. Talking about your daughter was one of your favorite topics. adolescence, teenage years, to university, there was so much to talk about. Doyoung would only use his dream calls on you on your birthday, making them more meaningful. Each one, you were both back to your twenties with different outfits and settings based on the differing decades.
“Don’t you feel burdened to wait for me?” You asked as his fingers brushed some of your hair back while you watched the sunset from a wooden bench.
“No, I’m not. there are still many things I want to fulfill before moving on. I also want to watch Areum grow up and help you in any possible. Only when these goals of mine and others are cleared, then I‘ll be able to rest well.”
“Will you be okay until then, Doyoung?”
“I broke a promise with you, (Y/N). and I want to make up for it.”
“What will you do when my time comes?” Your hand interlocked with his, squeezing it tight even if he couldn’t reciprocate it.
“I will shout out your name and hug you tight, my love. But until then, appreciate your life. Live it to its fullest. For me.”
Doyoung sensed your worry but comforted you that it’ll be okay. He wasn’t lying either when he said he wanted to do a lot of things too. Every dream call, his gut feelings were strong to know what you were going through in every call, giving you any advice to get you through them.
To count, he gave you almost 50 dream calls.
The late 1950s-1960s
After returning to university to finish your undergraduate studies when the war ended, you continued to pursue law school and taking the exams as you’ve wanted. But this meant moving to Seoul for better opportunities.
Doyoung celebrated with himself when he found out, not having to take the bus or ride the hotel car to Busan every time he wanted to see you two. Now, he could simply walk back and forth, managing it with his shifts.
Currently, he was taking a break in his office. The deities gifted him with a bunch of murder mystery books from the West, fully immersed in the storylines. Leaning backward from his chair, he was abruptly disconnected by a knock on his open door.
“Hyung, you have a special visitor in the lobby.” Jeno urgently informed Doyoung as he leaned on the side of his office door, out of breath. “It’s quite important if you ask me.”
Doyoung removed his reading glasses and put down his novel. Putting back his blazer on, he approached his younger friend and made their way down the hallway together hastily.
“Is it a family member who’s passed?” He questioned, slightly folding his blazer sleeves then adjusting the hotel pin on his chest pocket. By the tone Jeno spoke, it must’ve been serious. Although there’s no way it can be you just yet, he has no idea who was looking for him then.
The lobby was bustling with numerous souls. Some still fresh, some just roaming around, while others were preparing to pass the other side. Nothing new to it, until Jeno pointed out a specific scene in one corner of the room.
“Hyung, over there.”
Like an obedient puppy, Doyoung looked over to where Jeno’s finger directed. At first glance, by her long black hair, he recognized Manwol, who was kneeling in front of someone seated. It wasn’t until she stood up and shifted her body to the side to reveal that someone, patting her young head kindly.
She wore a ribbon on her hair, matching with the colors of her floral dress while carefully holding on to a piece of paper with her drawing. Due to the distance, he couldn’t make out what she drew. Though with her dazzling eye smile formed by her small eyes, he knew her too well.
“Areum.”
Right on cue, the young girl caught his entrancing gaze. With the widest smile, she exclaimed “Daddy!”
Manwol, who was right beside her, held her hand and graced their way to Doyoung and Jeno. The two knew she despised children, ordering them to keep a keener eye on them when they wander around so they don’t access the hallway leading to her office. Unexpectedly, Areum didn’t burden her the slightest. She brought a different aura, a very pure and full of love kind.
With the full moon shining at its peak, becoming present to the eyes of the living, she must’ve spotted the hotel from afar and her interest grew wild for it. Typical for girls her age. Not afraid of the risks, she followed any directions to get here. Coincidentally, she encountered Manwol in the front gate.
Manwol recognized her straight away, even when she glimpsed the drawing of her family she treasured in her chest. She still included her father, whom she was very much acquainted with. Though, she was puzzled by her sudden appearance. When Areum explained that her father lived in the hotel according to your stories, her heart fell to her gut. Indeed, she was right, but again, ghosts are discouraged to have connections with the living or anything related to it. However, her strong senses couldn’t disregard how much Doyoung yearned for his family. Lately, his only daughter when numerous children arrived at the hotel. He didn’t want to voice it out however because the other staff shared the same sentiments, so it would be insensitive so he just kept it to himself. But Manwol sensed it all too well.
She won’t tell anyone this, but she has quite a soft spot for Doyoung. She empathized with him the most since he came to the hotel, willing to do what it takes to make his coping and waiting worthwhile. She was still brash at times, but only when necessary.
Areum’s presence didn’t seem to harm anyone, charming anyone around with a smile and her words. Especially that smile, it shows enough of how much she’s Doyoung’s daughter. With a rough internal debate, Manwol welcomed her inside the magical hotel Areum described it as and tasked Jeno to call for Doyoung. It was a risk, but a needed one.
With Manwol innocently holding the young girl’s hand, she looked her down and asked her, “Is that your father from your drawing, Areum?”
Areum lit up as she tilted her head upwards to see her tall father, nodding proudly. “Yes, that’s him! The one my mom talks about in her dreams too!”
Doyoung’s heart swelled at her pride for him, not hesitating to kneel to her height. Arms wide open, he loudly called her out for the first time. “Areum!”
The young girl, letting go of Manwol’s hand, ran as fast as her short legs could like nothing can stop her, even if the lobby was packed. Soon enough, she’s at the grasp of her father, carrying and hugging her in circles. Light as a feather, he took in her scent and warmth. The racing beat of her heart pulsated against his chest, reminding how much life she’s filled with. It was liberating that she found him, even when he stood behind the dark shadows.
Once he put her back down, “What brings you here, Areum? Isn’t it past your bedtime already?”
She pouted, sulking at disobeying your rules. “I know, but as soon as I was ready for bed, I saw the hotel in bright lights just like mommy described. She said that only during the peak full moon it’ll be shown to very special people who are alive, and it turns out that I’m one of them, daddy.”
Hearing that title from her lips was something he would’ve never get sick of. He felt the validity more than ever.
The odds of being a human spotting the hotel during peak full moon was rare, earning perplexed looks by those who don’t see it. Doyoung never encountered a human waltzing in the hotel out of the bloom, so for his daughter to have this mystical ability was a gift in disguise. Maybe the deities knew how to cut off some slack and agony for wandering souls. This was an excuse to stop cursing them now and then.
“Wow, aren’t you a lucky girl for that?” Jeno, whom he forgot was by his side, patted her head similarly to Manwol. “Your father missed you dearly, you know?”
“Well, Mr. Jeno,” She picked up his name from his nametag. “I missed him too.”
Doyoung processed the features of the angelic girl in front of him, astonished at how you and he created someone so cheerful during a time of trouble. Aside from her eye smile, she had his gummy smile and curiosity, while she inherited your nose and intelligence. Cupping her chubby cheek, he pinched it with a cute sound effect from his mouth.
“Daddy!” She protested, slapping his hand away and dramatically covered her reddening cheek. “Not allowed to that, ever.”
Oh, you weren’t joking when you said she had his temper too.
Before he could defend himself, Manwol reentered their interaction. Like common sense, Doyoung got back on his feet but helplessly giving side glances to his daughter. Manwol giggled at his sudden formality before instructing Jeno to lead Areum to the carnival room. As Areum waves him goodbye for the meantime, Manwol added on.
“There’s a rise of kids checking in the hotel, unfortunately, so I wholeheartedly requested the deities to create an area dedicated for child-like fun. Just today, it’s finished in construction so it’s a great place for Areum to explore.”
“Manwol, I-” He was feeling overwhelmed, stumbling his words. “Why did you this for me?”
“You used your dream calls for (Y/N), but there’s never been a way for you to reach out to your daughter. And the way her glimmering eyes wanted to come in when she shouldn’t, I couldn’t refuse a chance for the two to reunite.”
“But what about the deities?”
“I’ll handle it. What matters is that you have tonight to spend with Areum. It’s the least thing I could do as you are one of my beloved staff,” She reassured, yet looked at him in a downcast manner. “But as much as possible, everything tonight must feel like a vivid dream to her. She’s not allowed to keep any knick-knacks from tonight either.”
Everything always came at a price. Doyoung was acquainted well enough, but he can’t lie to say that I didn’t ache. Nonetheless, Manwol having such a selfless side was completely new to him. That’s why he never asked for favors like the other staff since he’ll just get turned down or scolded like a child. Maybe she wasn’t as scary as to how they labeled her all these years he’s worked for her.
Manwol took Doyoung’s silence under the impression of internal conflict. In true Manwol fashion, she clapped her hands right in front of his visage, snatching him back to reality. “You’re wasting time, Doyoung! Don’t think about it too much right now. Now come on and dress up more casually, your daughter is waiting for you.”
Following her order, he bowed respectfully before zooming to his hotel room. She was right, he has to enjoy whatever is given. Demanding for more when you’re already dead is disrespectful to the eyes of the deities, considering that alongside your past life when you step into the afterlife.
From his uniform, he changed into a white long sleeve buttoned-up, which was layered under a lilac knit sweater, and black trousers. He styled his hair in a dandier way, applying gel then combing it upwards. He was only following the trends of the decade, basing it on the recently checked-in souls. Deities must’ve liked him a lot to give him a lot of gifts from time to time, making him completely disregard the money from the living world Manwol gives during his off days. Most of the time, his off days are spent either secretly observing you and your daughter, or reading more books in the library.
This one was like a change of scenery, his heart pumping once he exited to the elevator and rushed to the carnival room. And just as he entered the doors, the wave of nostalgia hit him instantaneously. It felt like he was in university again, bringing you around the bizarre contraptions and games for the first time for your amusement. A spark in your romance, so full of young love and naivety of what was to come.
He spotted his young girl wrapped around in the arms of Jeno, explaining to her about the wide range of rides as she licked on a rainbow lollipop. Once he showed up to the both of them, Jeno cautiously put her down so she can hold Doyoung’s hand.
“You deserve this, hyung. Make it worthwhile.” Jeno placed his hand on his older friend’s shoulder before leaving the room. Keeping it in mind, Doyoung kneeled again in front of his daughter. Her smiles were contagious, fascinated by everything she’s surrounded in.
“I’ve never seen anything like this, daddy.” That line sounded familiar, chuckling at the precious memory.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s have fun tonight!”
The bliss in tonight was never-ending, like the two of them were in their own world. Areum wanted to ride on a horse in a carousel first, which Doyoung agreed to. Lifting her, he held her by the waist as the ride started to go. She pointed out every object that she can see while Doyoung avidly listened, then telling her what each ride and game consists of in return.
Once they got off, her short legs scurried off to the game booth where rows of bottles were laid in front of her. Right beside her were the rings. Doyoung properly described the instructions, and on the dot, Areum went ham and started throwing the rings in random directions. By the way, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed, her competitive side was evident. Doyoung observed as she either hit or miss, finding another trait of his in her.
You’d find it hard to believe, but she would’ve been a total daddy’s girl.
To her success, she squealed victoriously as she won and hugged her dad. One of the staff in charge rewarded her with new candy to munch on, and off she went to look for the next attraction to divulge in. Doyoung struggled a little catching up to her, but anything he would do for his daughter.
From a one on one balloon dart game, which Doyoung willingly let Areum won because she’s a fussy one, roaming through a mini house of mirrors, riding the indoor Ferris wheel, and many more, Areum was ready to move to the next venue after telling her father that she wanted him to read to her.
“Mommy said you’re a librarian here because you like reading. I like it too, can you take me there?”
Just like you, he was charmed by his daughter. “Alright, Areum. Let’s go there then.”
Before they made it through past the wide doors with the bright red sign above saying “Exit”, Areum’s attention was distracted by a black kiosk near the Ferris wheel. She followed her gut, changing her direction. Doyoung quickly followed her footsteps, only to turn up in front of a photo booth.
“Wow, are these where you can take instant pictures, daddy?”
Waves of nostalgia hit Doyoung as if he were on the beach, totally unprepared for the emotional impact. With Areum, he missed your presence more than ever. Having you there completed your family, and it could’ve been quite a reunion.
“Yes, Areum. How about you go inside and daddy will insert some coins so you can have your pictures taken?”
“But daddy, I want to take pictures with you! It’s only mommy that has pictures with you, and I don’t want to feel left out.” She threw a tantrum, crossing her arms.
Here she goes again, making it difficult for Doyoung to refuse. Even with Manwol only giving him one rule to follow for the night, he doesn’t want any bad memories to be made with his daughter. He’ll have to work it out one way or another later. In the meantime, he smirked before carried her out of the blue inside the booth. Her shrieks increased in volume, only softening after she settled on her father’s lap. Doyoung inserts a few coins, and swiftly enough, the contraption started to operate.
“Okay Areum, one photo strip has 4 solo photos in it. 4 smiles or poses, okay? You’re going to look at the lens there, in the shape of a circle. Then, the flash is going to show in 3, 2-” Right on time, the two smiled.
They had less than 10 seconds until the second shot, so the two pulled random funny expressions. Doyoung pouted his lips, while Areum stuck out her tongue. For the third photo, Doyoung kissed the top of her head while Areum poked her cheeks with her fingers. Lastly, Areum instructed her father to lower his head to her level so she can peck his cheek. His shock was perfectly taken, filling his heart with adoration.
Areum hating getting affection but loves giving it? Another trait of his.
The look of amazement Areum gave once she stepped foot on the endless library was priceless. She described how it was bigger than the national library in Seoul. While she strolled around the near shelves, Jeno, taking over his night shift, approached him with a bottled treat. But it wasn’t just a normal one.
“Manwol and I overheard that she liked strawberry milk, so Manwol told me to give it to you. It has the dream spell potion from Johnny’s bar mixed with flowers from the deities so she can’t see ghosts or the hotel anymore. Make sure she drinks it before she leaves this place.”
While Areum settles on the small couch with her chosen books, she patiently anticipated for her father to read to her before her yawning takes over her. She never tracked the time, but she’s gone way beyond her average curfew.
“Sleepy already, sweetheart?” Doyoung asked as he sat beside her, inspecting her drowsy state.
Areum shook her head, displaying all the books she got on the table in front of her. “Nope! Not until you read me a bedtime story.”
Doyoung scanned through her book selection, amazed by her choices. The Little Prince, Winnie the Pooh, Goodnight Moon, and a bunch of Madeline books from the series, he couldn’t decide! If only he could read them all for her.
A lot of those books he read growing up, and the same goes for you. Especially Madeline, which he discovered through you as one of your childhood favorites. By instinct, he chose the first book from the series, simply entitled “Madeline”.
“This one.” He patted his lap so she could sit on it, which she did without wasting a breath.
It was ironic for a librarian to have never read aloud for anyone during his stay. Maybe because no one asked him to nor he wasn’t into reading aloud. He preferred reading to himself, only helping those looking for specific books or recommending if anyone has a favorite genre. Maybe he’ll give it a shot now. This first-hand experience opened his eyes to a new type of intimacy, hearing the adorable reactions from his daughter as he read the life of Madeline in Paris.
“In the middle of one night, Miss Clavel turned on her light and said, “Something is not right!”.” Doyoung flipped the next page. “Little Madeline sat in bed, cried and cried-”
“She cried to get attention, huh?” Areum commented mid-reading.
“Areum, if she didn’t, she could get even sicker. We don’t want that, right?”
“If I cried like that, would that be enough to bring you back to me and mommy, daddy?” She wholesomely questioned, twisting her body weight so she could face him. “Mommy already has a way to reach to you, and I want something like that too”
Doyoung knew she was a smart girl, but she often denies the reality of some things. In this case, her father’s passing still hasn’t hit her, even if she possessed the mystical skill to see ghosts and the hotel. Doyoung felt cornered, so before he could think of a reply, he kindly asks her,
“Hmm, what do you have in mind, sweetheart?”
“Well,” She pouted as she fidgeted with her index fingers. “I read all your old letters to mommy, so maybe I can write you one every year.”
“What a great idea, sweetheart!” He cheered. “How will you give it?”
“Uh..” She paused to think, then a bright idea came to her. “During your birthday, daddy! Mommy and I still celebrate it if you don’t know, so I can offer it alongside the food.”
Doyoung played along, knowing that tradition of yours. Although it still aches him to show up on his death anniversary, he compromised by showing up on his birthday. He’d see his and your families celebrating, talking about the positive and fun things about him in his life. He observed his daughter a little more later when she got older and started talking. Whenever you praised him for something, there was hope and inspiration in her young eyes. It’s uplifting to discover that his legacy was seen in a good light. He’d never wanted to be seen as a bad guy to anyone.
“I’ll look forward to it, sweetheart. Promise?” He stuck out his pinky to her, getting curled in response by hers.
“Promise!”
Both of them chuckled, appreciating the moment. His long arms embraced her from the back, nuzzling his head on his shoulder. How blessed to have a daughter like her, but from a glance, the bottle of strawberry milk situated beside the pile of books gave a remembrance of one of his remaining tasks. It had to be done, but he hoped she won’t at least forget to write to him.
“Look! Miss Manwol wanted to give this to you.” He handed it to her.
Ecstatic, she cranked open the bottle cap and took tiny sips of it. “It’s so good, daddy!”
Doyoung softly laughed as excess milk drops dribbled in her lips, wiping it with his thumb. “Aigoo, you messy girl. Let’s continue, shall we?”
Cozying up to him again, Doyoung resumed his storytelling. Once he said the words, “The end.”, the small head of his daughter completely leaned against his chest. Snuggling for more comfort, he checked her current condition. Knocked out like a light, he puts the book down and cradled her for a second. The last time he did something like this was when she was born. She was tiny then, and now, she’s bound to outgrow his lap sooner or later.
This was his sign to bring her home.
He boosted her small figure, her head now planted on his shoulder and his hand resting behind the nape of her neck. Her legs were entangled in his torso when he showed up at the lobby again. It was much more serene, everyone checked in already.
“Aigoo, fast asleep already?” Manwol made an appearance without warning, alongside her personal driver Yuta and the bartender Johnny.
“As expected from my magic.” Johnny commended himself, stretching his fingers. That easily gave him a slap from Yuta.
“Can’t you be more sensitive to Doyoung?”
Not caring about those two, Manwol caressed Areum from behind. Inside her cold heart, she brought so much amusement. Even if she embodied traits from Doyoung, she stood out from his usual reserved nature. She had so much energy, and it’s a fresh sight. Manwol secretly peered at their father-daughter time in the library, and she sensed the love the two had for each other. Even if it’s unbearable to separate them, having tonight was a pleasure for all.
“Yuta,” She summoned him. “Drop these two to her house safe and sound. It’s too dangerous to walk in the dark right now.”
Bowing in response, he led the way to the elevator for Doyoung to follow. But before he took the first step, Manwol halted him by the arm. “You better come back, or the deities won’t be pleased.”
He nodded before he was sent on his way. Wasn’t this brutal?
The silence in the car ride is deafening, though he didn’t want to disturb his little girl either. Yuta peeked from the mirror now and then to check on the two, sharing the gloom of his fellow friend. Having something or someone so valuable from the living world makes it hard to leave it. He understood as he suffered a similar fate to him.
When they’ve arrived at their destination, Doyoung was quick to notice that the lights from your living room were still on. It’s too risky to waltz in through the front door, squinting for other ways to go inside. To his luck, the window of Areum’s bedroom was wide open. That must’ve been how she escaped earlier.
“Be careful, Doyoung. Her neighbors may be watching.”
“It’s around 4 am right now, Yuta. I’ll be fine.” He reassured, clicking open the car door with his daughter peacefully asleep.
Entering inside her bedroom, he gently put her down on her soft bed. Covering her body with the duvet so she wouldn’t get cold, he took one last lingering look before taking his leave. Manwol might be looking for him already. Pressuring even to know that Yuta was waiting outside for him and that the deities are looking down on him too.
“Daddy,” Her tiny hand tugged on his sleeve, stopping his movements. Her droopy eyes faintly ajar, wanting to capture these last dreamy moments. “Don’t leave me and mommy again.”
This retouched attachment between the two made things much more stifling to accept reality. Doyoung understood her fright and sighed, kneeling to her again. Patting her head, “I’m sorry but I have no choice, sweetheart. We don’t want daddy to get in trouble, right?”
She lazily nods, tugging on his sleeve again. “Can you sing me to sleep, daddy? You used to do that for mommy.”
He grinned, accepted her last request. Holding on her hand, kissing it, he quietly sings.
“Eonjebuteoinji geudaereul bomyeon….”
When the song reached its end, the soft snores from Areum filled his eardrums. Her eyes are fully closed, and her tiny head fell to the side of her pillow. Kissing her forehead, he whispered, “Good night, sweetheart. Daddy loves you so much.”
A cute sight to Doyoung, she occupied a huge part in his heart. Even if everything tonight will feel like a complete dream, it’s a memorable moment for Doyoung that he’ll treasure.
Initially, he planned to leave her bedroom the same way he came in, which was through her window. That’s all Manwol tasked him to do when he arrives at your house, but his heart selfishly desires to see you. Even if he was invisible now. His powers were weakening, twitching from being visible to invisible back and forth.
Never has he stepped inside your new house, and this could be his only chance.
The first thing he saw after leaving his daughter’s bedroom was the dining room. Tidy and organized, as expected from you. For the living room connected to it, the simple decorations invited him inside. Assorted photos hung in the wall and by the table near the front door, with a fresh bouquet of asters in a vase there too.
Alluring as it is, the only thing Doyoung couldn’t keep his eyes off the most was a sleeping you in pajamas, hunched over the coffee table on top of books and numerous paperwork. An empty coffee glass neared the edge, so he caught it before you squirmed again from your sleep.
The exhaustion from your life was constantly piled up one after the other. You’ve been studying hard at law school, balancing it with a part-time job as a teacher’s assistant at your university for undergrads and being a mom to Areum. Even seeing the pile of bills right by your side, you didn’t just need the help of your families. You needed him, as a friend, lover, and father.
Men were still viewed as the main breadwinners of the family, but you juggled both positions as mother and father. It was a vicious fate, and he’d do anything to share that challenge with you. For now, the only thing he could do is bring you to bed at least.
Taking you into his arms bridal style, completely knocked out, he only assumed the remaining door in front of Areum’s bedroom was your bedroom. Carefully kicking it, he graced your bed and laid you down elegantly so your sleeping flow won’t be disturbed. He put the covers on top of your body so you’d feel comfier.
Right in front of your bedside was a breezy open window, the moonlight creeping in to highlight your sleeping face. The wrinkles on your forehead started to show, a side effect of immense stress. It’s a trait no one wants, yet it symbolized aging and moving forward to the future. Doyoung envied you for it.
Besides that, you looked youthful as ever, seeking internal peace from the outside world in your deep slumber. His index traced the outline of your face, appreciating your glow. Trapped in amazement, leaving you will be more difficult. It’s been a while since he saw you up close in the flesh, but Manwol’s words daunted his mind. Just like his daughter, his lips softly pecked your forehead and to your ear, he said in a hushed tone, “Good night, my love. I’m so proud of you.”
Getting back on his knees to exit, he’s convinced that you and your daughter can detect a leaving presence and catch it before they do. On cue, your hand unconsciously grabbed his wrist. Your mind couldn’t make up what mental state you were in, but something in you vibed a known presence. One that you’ve yearned, one that you struggle to wait and see until your birthday arrives. Is he actually here?
Doyoung reacted immediately, his feet shuffling to face you again. Eyes still shut close, but your lips released a satisfied moan as you stretched your arms slightly.
“Is it my birthday already?” You mumbled incoherently, gripping on the unknown wrist. “Or am I just lucky enough to get a free pass?”
He rolled his eyes at your nonsense. “If this was a free pass, what would you want me to do?”
You weakly took a peek. It was blurry, probably caused by your sleepiness. But you recognized the silhouette of this stranger from the back of your hand. You clutched his grip, bringing his face closer to yours. Doyoung didn’t expect such a jerking action, almost falling limp if his other free hand didn’t grip on your duvet.
“Kiss me before you go again, my love.” You requested, mindlessly craving his touch.
Loosening from your grip, his palm cupped your cheek as he wets his lips. He made the first move, sweetly and slowly. Even at your unknown state, you returned with the same level of passion, brushing the hair behind the nape of his neck to deepen it. You haven’t kissed anyone like this in a very long time, too busy with your studies and motherhood. This refreshed your memories of what you missed, a warm tear escaping your eye.
No one will ever match up to him.
Doyoung’s deprivation of physical touch for you amplified, eagerness for so much more than this. Touching himself to the thought of you grew tiring, wanting to have you in the flesh by his side. It wasn’t until a bright car light from outside shun by your window. Yuta was an impatient one, but he had every right to be.
It was fulfilling while it lasted. His heart throbbed when his lips parted from yours, opening his eyes again. Your eyes stayed closed, but your lips hummed in satisfaction.
“Nothing changed in the way you kiss, my love.” You complimented, succumbing back to your deep slumber by pulling yourself further inside the duvet.
Doyoung grinned at your words, kissing your knuckle one last time. “I meant what I said, (Y/N). Sleep well.”
He tiptoed out your bedroom, deciding to exit through the front door. Again, no one would be awake at this time anyway. However, an antique-looking photo of him caught his eye. Taking a closer look, it was you and him by his garden, clutching on his arm under their family lemon tree and smiling during pre-war times. It was a funny story actually.
His father bought a camera for the first time and wanted to test it out. You were over at their house that day to study, and his father insisted to take a photo of the two of you as a first try.
“Oh come on, we must commemorate this new contraption! The first people can be titled “Young Love” or something like that!”
Doyoung cringed, whining, “Dad, that’s so corny!”
“I don’t care. Now hurry, join the frame with (Y/N) and smile!”
His father may present himself as strict and stubborn as one of the most affluent men in Korean society even after the war, but behind the scenes, he knows how to entertain his children. Doyoung’s childhood never had a dull moment. Oh, how wished he could follow the same fate as him.
This happy photo was a golden treasure to you, framing it so it could be preserved. It was one of your last traces of him, aside from Areum. Next to it, a much smaller photo of you and Areum was placed. Also all smiles for the two of you, Areum firmly sat on your lap and clasping her hands above her dress. You cut your hair during that time, showing the dog tag necklace that once belonged to him on your neck. You were really devoted to him, and he’s grateful, to say the least.
He knew he shouldn’t take anything either before going back to the hotel, but there was just no way he can’t take this one photo of his favorite girls with him. He already kept his photo strip of him and Areum from the carnival in his back pocket, so he’ll just have to work out the consequences then.
Returning to the car was bittersweet. He took one more proper look at your home, taking in all the positive energy to have such a loving family even if he can only watch from afar. While Yuta revved the car on, Doyoung deeply sighed from the backseat. What a spontaneous evening.
“I’m guessing you didn’t resist seeing your lover either, Doyoung?” Yuta commented, viewing him from the mirror. Raising his brows playfully, “Got caught in the VIP seat of you two lip-locking.”
“First of all, that’s creepy, Yuta. Second, you most definitely know what it feels like to be separated from your lover. Cut me some slack.”
“Whatever, that’s not my business anyway. But good luck to you if Manwol asked why there was a sudden extension.” The older friend shrugged, his foot pressing on the pedal to drive off the area.
“Keyword is if she asks. Now please, drive faster, Yuta. I have a shift to fill in now.”
Last night was a gift, but also an aching reminder of what could’ve been if he never died. The sun is slowly making its appearance again, bringing in another morning in this reality. Another work day for Doyoung, more waiting to be done.
Yet recalling his bonding moments with Areum, he’ll most likely get through another few decades. He yanked out his photo strip from the back pocket of his trousers, gazing at their authentic happiness. He muttered to himself,
“I’ll see you and your mother again, and we’ll all celebrate and rejoice. ‘Til then, my sweetheart.”
Meanwhile, ever since that peculiar “dream” with Doyoung, it left you with a lot of questions. Perhaps, it’s all just in your head. Though it doesn’t quite answer how one of your beloved pictures went missing. That’s definitely something you’re going to ask if your birthday comes up again.
Moving forward, his kind words pushed you to do your best. In the next years, you first became a family lawyer for a few years to get used to the field, but permanently shifted to being a public attorney because you wanted to be able to represent those who are suffering the most yet can’t afford the legal help to avoid it.
Just like what you and Doyoung aspired.
Balancing that with a kid was overwhelming, but with your and Doyoung’s families helping you out, your stress lessened.
You served as a huge inspiration to female college students wanting to pursue law. Since law is still perceived as a male-dominated field, you constantly pushed to make space for women in that workforce. It was also rare of you to lose a case because of the hard work you put into disproving every loophole and suggesting the correct punishments for the wrongdoers.
“You really outdid yourself once again, (Y/N). Or should I say Attorney (Y/L/N) (Y/N).”
“Shut up, Doyoung. Tell me more about your hotel staff friends. That Johnny guy seems very fun, and Jeno seems like a lovely boy.”
“Johnny’s a playful lad, always the life of the party. Jeno is like the younger brother I really wish I had. Donghyun-hyung is okay and all, but he’s so high maintenance.”
“Shush! He’s doing fantastic right now. He pursued acting like he always wanted.”
“He deserves it because he’s hard-working, like yourself, Attorney.”
You’ve never fallen in love the same way you did for Doyoung. Though you won’t lie that you’ve slept with a few men during nights out with your co-workers, committing to another man was something you had no time for. You always envisioned Doyoung as the one fucking you senseless.
People viewed it as stupid to be still lovestruck over your dead lover, but you’ve been called worst insults in your life that it doesn’t sting that much anymore. At the end of the day, your heart still soared and longed for Doyoung.
You just can never let him go.
“It’s still unfair to you, Doyoung. I should be ashamed.” The two of you were at a drive-in theater, watching from the trunk of his pickup truck. Your back laid against his chest as his fingers roam your torso in an upwards motion.
“No, you shouldn’t, (Y/N). It’s natural to desire human affection. I’m the one who should be sorry for not giving it to you.”He replied, completely ignoring the film.
You scoffed jokingly. “It’s silly how we’re so deprived of sex, especially with each other.”
“Oh, (Y/N). Don’t get me started, I’m suffering here with my hand alone while you can just find any available man.”
“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” You surrendered, directing your head from the front to the back. “At the end of the day, it’s still your touch that still gets me weak.”
“My dear, on the day we reunite, brace yourself. I’ll show you who you really belong to.”
1973
Doyoung’s been on duty with reading books to children lately, and again, he’s aching to see what Areum’s up to. Rereading past letters from her from his birthday celebrations were driving him wild. After helping one young girl look for more books under the Madeline series, he had to make an exception. Just this once, and that would be it.
Even if he was under disguise, he desperately wanted to have just another brief conversation with her, especially that she’s a lot older compared to their last encounter. Doyoung witnessed her bloom from this imaginative young girl to a strong woman chasing after her dreams.
Like mother, like daughter.
He spotted her at a small bookstore to buy books for her classes and newly arrived ones from the States, very much interested in western literature. But upon seeing the peaked prices which were more than what she saved for, she put the book back on the shelf and gathered the ones she actually needed.
This was where Doyoung took it upon himself to offer his help. Staying long enough in the middle of the living and the dead, he was capable to turn visible.
“Stephen King, huh?” He inquired, scooting to her side and pulling out the book again to take a better look at it. He came across this book in his library, even if it was in English. “I see that you’re into horror. These books are in English though.”
Areum knew speaking to strangers is not a good thing, but if anyone reached out to her to talk about books, she can’t help but feel excited. “I’m interested in a lot of genres, and this book is pretty popular right now so I wanted to check it out. Besides, I’m reading more English books so I can become fluent one day.”
“You aren’t scared of the storylines?”
“I went through a life of hardships, sir. Nothing scares me anymore honestly.” Doyoung couldn’t help feel proud and sorry for her. Without questions, he led her to the counter and paid for all books despite her insisting not to.
“Sir, you really shouldn’t have. I can always come back for those books when I save up more.”
“It’s fine, really. With your taste in literature, you have a promising future as an author if that’s what you’re aiming for.” He complimented. Areum was frazzled at how spot on this stranger was, trying to convince him again.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t pay you back?”
“Pay me back by publishing your books.” He confidently stated, bringing out his wallet to pay the cashier. His astonishing kindness and encouragement for her are heartwarming, bowing with gratitude.
“Thank you,” She halted because she didn’t know his name.
There was no way Doyoung can disclose his actual name, so he just picked a random nickname some of the kids in the hotel who he read to coined for him. “I prefer giving people my nickname. It’s tokki.”
“Thank you, tokki. I’m Areum, Kim Areum.” She thanked him properly, struggling from carrying her things to shake his hand, but Doyoung signaled her not to.
“Nice to meet you, Areum.” He greeted back.
As Areum was more ready to part ways, Doyoung’s fatherly instincts activated due to the heavy box she held. Her dorms must be a bit far and it was already nighttime. Anything can happen.
“Excuse me, Areum. But do you mind if I help you with your books? It’s pretty late, so I just want to make you get back safe.”
Something in Areum was very willing to trust this man she just met. Sure, he was quite covered up, but it’s almost winter and maybe he didn’t want to catch a cold. Though, his intentions looked good. She’s heard stories about people getting robbed in these alleys, so she accepted his help.
Her dorms were a few blocks away, giving enough time to be acquainted with this man. Though he was the one mostly asking the questions and she answered them. She didn’t pry on it too much and went with the flow.
“Are you an only child in your family?”
“Yes. It’s also just me and my mom. I never got to meet my dad sadly. He died before I was born while battling in the Korean war.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” No matter how long it’s been since the war, the trauma of it all still haunted Doyoung.
“It’s been years so it’s fine. I found out recently that he risked his life to save his senior officer during a surprise attack from one of my uncles. If that isn’t bravery, I don’t know what is.”
“So you’re not mad at him for leaving?” He asked, hoping he didn’t cross boundaries either. He needed this closure.
“It was hard to accept at first. All my friends grew up with their actual fathers, and I felt outcasted. But there are just some things we can’t control, you know? Besides, people always spoke of him highly and that makes me proud. Though,” She answered honestly, covering up the bitterness in her words in other not to disrespect him. “I’m pretty sure I saw him in a dream when I was younger.”
Doyoung’s heart leaped. So she may recall quite a bit. “Oh really? What was it like?”
“The only person I told this to is my mom. It felt quite unreal, honestly. I was around 7-8 years old at that time, and we were at a carnival, enjoying the attractions and stuff. Then we transitioned to this huge library where he read me a bunch of stories. One of them was Madeline, I believe. One of my favorites!”
Doyoung replays the fond memory in his mind. Time really flew by so fast.
“What a fun dream, it seems to be.”
Areum was elated at the best memory of her youth, smiling to herself. “It truly was. It felt like I was with him, you know. No matter how many times he told me he loved me there, I still respond the same way and that nothing has changed.”
“I love you too, Areum.” He mumbled quietly. That dream should not have been the only memory they have of each other. Neither of them deserved to be parted.
Soon enough, they arrived at the front doors of her dorm residence. Since it was strictly for women, she explained that she’ll carry the box from here on.
“Thanks again for the help, tokki. I’ll make sure to pay you back soon.” She spoke so casually because, for some reason, this mysterious man felt trustworthy. Her gut feeling may fool her, but she let it pass.
“Take your time, Areum. I wish you the best of luck.”
Before they went separate ways, something about her bitter words from awhile ago bothered Doyoung and he wanted to say something about it. Because looking into the far future, if he didn’t, he knew he’ll regret it and make moving on harder.
“Wait, Areum!”
Areum abruptly reacted to the shouts of her name, almost dropping the box. She faced again the mysterious tokki, who now had an awkward stance with his hand in the air waving at you.
“Yes, tokki?”
Compiling his thoughts, here goes nothing.
“This is quite random but your dad... I just know he loves you too. He’s also proud of you for being strong and intelligent. I hope you don’t forget that.”
Areum was baffled by his statement, but it was uplifting to hear that. Maybe this tokki guy was going through the same thing as her, so she didn’t want to judge too quickly. She was taught to never judge a book by its cover from you. By the quick blinking of her eyes, some tears dropped down to her cheek. She let out some sniffles on her way up to her dorm room, reassured that this stranger may just be correct. She heard what she needed to hear.
It’s been a long time since he reunited with his daughter, even if she’s fooled into thinking that the dream was just a dream. His status as a father was renewed. Even if he got a major scolding from Manwol upon his return at the hotel for ditching his shift.
“She blamed you in public? Oh no, my love.” You consoled your lover after he told you the tale.
A lot of iconic songs were released during this decade, so this dream accommodated it. It was set in a jazz bar, where all sorts of alcohol on display with assorted vinyl CDs by the platform at the end. Dimly lit with numerous empty tables and chairs, and it was only the two of you. Dressed to the nines for the occasion, your flimsy hands couldn’t stop playing with your hoop earrings. A definite staple while you swayed your hips to the beat of Superstition by Stevie Wonder.
Doyoung sat in one of the bar stools in a red v-neck top and flare pants, marveling at your physique and movements in that indigo romper. You could feel his fiery stare, your body flowing through the groove to capture him into your spell. The dream version of him always gets easily distracted when you act suggestive, especially when he isn’t in control physically. Only his words can he sort out.
Dancing towards him, you dragged his arms away from his seated position to lead him to the empty dance floor.
“Let’s dance off the stress, shall we?”
Pulling off the famous dance moves and grooving in freestyle, it was a blast. Both your young energies were in sync. From the funky beat, it shuffled into a slower yet soulful song. The unwinding mood could only mean that this dream was reaching its end. You took Doyoung’s arms again, placing one on your waist and the other interlocked with you. Taking the lead, you waltzed back and forth, twirling yourself in his arms.
Doyoung cracked a smile from the phone and in the dream, immersing himself in the lovely song. It was always played on the radio during the late-night shows, dedicated for the couples out there. With you, he could finally understand why couples request it every night.
“You are the sunshine of my life,” He sang along while feeling your heartbeat against his chest. “That's why I'll always stay around.”
“You are the apple of my eye,” You carried from where he left off, equally resonating with the lyrics. No matter how many times you’ve said or expressed your patience for each other, this song held a special place. It summed up everything you’re both fighting for.
“Forever, you'll stay in my heart.”
1980s
It came to Doyoung’s attention that there’s a new member of the hotel staff, and Manwol put him in charge of touring this new addition around and orienting them about the hotel rules. Considering he wasn’t busy, he went for it.
This person would be the replacement of Johnny, who finally passed through the afterlife in high spirits after his younger brother Mark took his rightful place as the heir of their family business. Originally, it was him, but his stepmother and stepbrother stabbed him alongside his father to get ahold of the power. Without proof, they led the business as she freely did, overworking Mark numerously and spending their money to their heart’s desire.
Doyoung couldn’t let this pass. Since Manwol hired a human manager back in the ‘70s named Kun to better facilitate human-related affairs for the hotel (taxes, bills, etc), he requested him to talk to Mark then introduce him to you.
Kun also made sure to inform you that this was Doyoung’s idea.
“This Johnny is the same Johnny that Doyoung talks about in my dreams? The one who brings the fun out of him every once and while?”
“That’s right, Ms. (Y/L/N). Due to the betrayal, he can’t move on until his stepbrother is taken down.”
The fact that Kun was a bridge to the two of you felt miraculous. Now and then, Doyoung tasked Kun to buy you flowers or coffee whenever they meet. Sometimes, he’ll ask him to send his letters to you too. In return, you replied to those letters, attaching pictures of you and Areum over time. He hung it up in his office, taking a look before every shift.
Kun didn’t mind being in the middle. While Doyoung gave her cases to work on, it makes it easier for him to wait for her. Doyoung was a guest first before being a member of staff, and as the human manager, he’ll make sure that he gets to move on too.
Even if you don’t accept cases from big companies, the touching way how Mark described his passed older brother persuaded her otherwise. He even opened up about watching his father and older brother get killed right in front of him. From there, he was held hostage for years and never told anyone about that night.
It was undoubtedly the biggest case in your career. Up until this day, everyone still talks about how complex and intense the battle was.
“Always finding a way to make justice prevail, Kim Doyoung.” You thought to yourself after gathering more evidence from Mark and Kun, working closely also with forensics and the police.
And that you did. With additional information on Johnny’s side, which helped find the empty puzzle pieces to prove his stepfamily’s guilt, they won the case. Life imprisonment and forced transferring of roles, Mark became the CEO. All those involved in hiding the truth got caught and fired from their positions.
You deserved your influential status, and due to your never-ending service, Doyoung found himself falling in love with you over and over again. Even from far away, you felt his connection and passion.
Currently, you were dealing with five cases, one of them being another request for Kun and Doyoung. It was for the murder of Yuta Nakamoto in the late 40s.
Being a migrant from Japan, numerous Koreans held grudges for their people. He was mistreated and disrespected, even if he had the most caring soul. He even found love, ready to get wed. But one normal evening after his job as a Japanese teacher, he was mobbed by Koreans and heartlessly killed. At first, he wanted vengeance. But after Manwol telling stories of souls burning into ashes when they get revenge, he changed his objective to watch the demise of all his killers, who became very influential people in Korean society.
Representing with you was his former lover, Sooyoung. No matter how many times she tried to appeal to the court in the past, no one paid attention because she was a woman and interracial relationships were taboo. Even if Yuta held a special place in her heart, she eventually got married to another man. In the beginning, she felt guilty, but after Yuta told her in a dream call that she shouldn’t be afraid to open herself up again, she never held back. And as a fellow woman who’s been ostracized, you sided with her.
She may not have her happy ending with Yuta, but it only felt right to avenge his wrongful death.
It’s a tough battle, these murderous men not owning up to their crime, and the public also discriminating the dead man by saying he deserved it. But you knew you could do it, even if it’ll take a while.
Back to the newbie, he was in his early twenties. He went by the name, Jaehyun. Just about to start his life, yet taken away just like that. Aside from being the next bartender, he has another position as the vinyl boy in the music section of the library. It came to Manwol’s attention that he wanted to pursue music when he was alive, listening to vinyl CDs or cassette players and taking singing and piano lessons growing up. While he figured out what he wants to do while moving on, he’d be in charge of organizing and playing music for the souls checked in. Sing even if requested, especially by the women who are charmed by his attractive looks.
He was a literal old soul, jazz being his favorite genre. Most of the time, he played Chet Baker or Frank Sinatra when it’s his shift at the bar. He was known for always showing his best and happy-go-lucky sides to everyone.
It took him a few years to start opening about his life, longer than most souls. But maybe because the trauma of it all stung. One night, when he, Doyoung, and Kun weren’t working, he mixed a few cocktails and completely fell off the radar.
“I was a part of a duo with one of my best friends, Hongseok. It was really fun to perform and make music with him, but then he suddenly got into drugs and had a ton load of groupies. I-I just couldn’t do it anymore with him if he wasn’t going to stop. Once I cut off ties with him, I was signed by a class A producer who loved my compositions. He even got me all sorts of opportunities to perform on TV, and I was so excited for it. But one week until I made my official debut, Hongseok reached out again with apologies, wanting to meet up so we can fix ties. I was hesitant, but I still give him the benefit of the doubt because we go way back….” He confessed, puffing out smoke from his cigarette and putting it down on the ashtray. Before he continued his story, he scoffed with profanities.
“That bitch. I fucking trusted him! I was too good to give him another shot. So after practice, he sent me an address to his apartment or so I thought. We were having drinks, just like old times. But something felt off feel when my mind started feeling hazy and I started coughing continuously because my stomach ached like crazy. He asked me if I was fine, and I told him I was. Then suddenly, baam!” He crashed his hands on the table, shocking the hell out of his two companions.
“Holy fuck, Jaehyun.” Kun cursed under his breath. Doyoung nudged him the shoulder to mind his language.
“The deities are watching you, Kun. Let Jaehyun-ie continue.”
So he did. “There I was, standing beside my dead body while Hongseok rummaged with surgical gloves through my bag to steal my notebook of songs. He planted cocaine on the table where I conversed with him, and also in front of my face. Beside my glass, he laid the vial of poison he used and called the cops. With fake tears, he cried on the phone saying that he came home to my dead body and a suicide note.”
Stillness between the three of them was filled with betrayal and disappointment. For a so-called friend, this must be the worst thing you can do to them. To lessen his suffering, Jaehyun brought back his actively lit cigarette and smoked it until all the tobacco was gone. Exhaling a dark grey smoke, he spat out.
“I-I couldn’t believe it, hyungs. I lost everything after making the wrong decision of seeing him. And now, he signed under that label that found me to “give honor to my talent”. How tragic that I suddenly took my life he’d say, oh bullshit! You took away my life because you were jealous!”
Kun decided to call it a night, requesting Yukhei who’s on duty to take Jaehyun’s upcoming shifts so he could calm down. Escorting his intoxicated figure out so the other guests won’t feel bothered, Doyoung contemplated if he wanted to forward another case to you. You’ve been getting so much workload lately, according to Kun, because your success rate is high and highly in demand.
“What happened to Jaehyun?” Manwol showed up from behind, sitting across him. “Did he finally tell his story?”
Doyoung mildly groaned, devastated by it. “He did, and it breaks my heart. He’s still so young, like me.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Manwol stirred the spare cocktail, ingesting it in one go. “Is it another case worth forwarding to (Y/N)?”
“If it helps Jaehyun move on, possibly. I know it’s hard to find staff these days, Manwol. Also, she’s stacked already. I don’t know if she’ll take it.”
She snickered, patting his shoulder. “You know if it’s from you, it becomes her priority. She loves you that much, you know.”
“I know, but I wish I could help her. In person. I would’ve been a lawyer and taken Jaehyun’s case if I were alive. Murder in the first degree, false reporting to the police, stealing, his persecutor is insane and still walking free.”
The fire of passion in Doyoung wasn’t new to Manwol, nodding as he spoke. He was capable of a lot of things, but the world just wasn’t ready to see it. She was more concerned at how the deities will react when he engages in human affairs again. Even if it helps a lot of ghosts move on, it’s highly discouraged to interfere with the living world. It’ll ruin the entire flow of the world.
Doyoung already knew what he got himself into, but it’s one of the few ways he still feels relevant. Always in service for anyone who needs it, dead or alive. If the deities take him away, it’s no joke that it’ll be a riot in the entire hotel.
“In that case,” Manwol’s piercing eyes scanned right at him, filling up his glass with vodka. Second to Doyoung, she grew a fond liking to Jaehyun. She never knew how much he’s been hiding during his stay. “Forward it no matter what. End his murderer’s career at all costs.”
Doyoung smirked, lifting his glass high to clink with hers then chugging it one go.
“I’ll investigate first with Kun to know more about Jaehyun’s life, then we’ll look for someone who wants to testify for Jaehyun to meet with (Y/N).”
Amid the craze and problems in the hotel, at least Doyoung was at ease with how successful his family. Areum became a well-known author for fairytales, got married, and had 3 kids of her own. She most definitely didn’t live down to Doyoung’s promise.
“Is he a nice guy?” Doyoung inspected the man who married his only daughter. It felt like yesterday they played around in the carnival room.
“He is, Doyoung. Intelligent and caring, nothing to worry about.” You calmed his shaking leg, resting your head on his shoulder while you watch the fireflies from the campfire set prepared by the deities.
“I’m just looking out for her, you know.”
“She most definitely does know, even telling stories about us to her kids. Our grandchildren.”
“It’s hard to believe that we’re technically old when we’re always young in these dreams.”
“Maybe it’s just you being used to your youth. Meanwhile, aging is beating my ass every day.” You joked, covering yourself up in the blanket you shared. Doyoung’s bottom lip jutted out, huffing at your mean comments.
“Yah, you take that back.”
“Make me.” You fired back, riling him up.
Doyoung in the dream attacked you by tickling your sides mercilessly. Your body uncontrollably arched back and forth, falling back to the blanket you sat at. He took the advantage to pin you down, gripping on your arms to the side. With his face near yours, you closed the gap with a cheeky kiss. His touch softened, allowing you to pull him lower by his collar. Your lips molded together in every movement, feeling his tongue lick your lower lip for entrance. You freely gave in, moaning filthily.
“Didn’t even have to test me like that, my love.”
How you wished this was longer, if it weren’t for the fast fading out, and morning has arrived again. A short-lived euphoria, yet it left your panties drenched under the covers. The arousal still ran in your veins.
“Kim Doyoung, you tease.”
Back to your real life, aside from bravely taking on controversial cases, there was a thrill in every case you did and it showed by your fast-paced talking and hand gestures. Whether you won or lost, mostly the former, knowing that you helped someone made your life more meaningful.
He often forgot how you’re a grandmother during your dream calls already as time flows differently within the living and the dead. They were the only way you can be youthful and energetic. But with your actual body, it began to weaken.
Early 1990s
Nature decided to take heavier measures on you physically. On one of the monthly visits to the doctor, she noticed something off with the checkup and tests. Especially in the chest area.
“Ms. (Y/L/N) (Y/N), I’m afraid that you have a growing lump in your breast.”
“Are you saying what I’m thinking?”
“If breast cancer is one of those though, then unfortunately yes.”
Areum was by your side that day, tearing up at her announcement. You, on the other hand, remained still and nodding at the truth. You’ve fought for a lot of things in your life, and you were so determined to beat this one.
Chemotherapy, medications, and scans are tiring and draining, but you managed to live for 2 more years. You’ve fully retired, and now and then, mentor the juniors with their cases. You’ve traveled to as many places as you can before the stages of cancer rose.
In your last months of life, you were bedridden in the most expensive hospital in Seoul, getting visits from Areum with her family, Jungwoo and Taeyong. As the latter served as definite friends to Doyoung, it was only natural to befriend them when they came into your life post-war. They supported Areum in any way they can too. They’ve become a great company in your boring life especially in the hospital. Nowadays, Jungwoo loved sharing stories about his hyper grandchildren, who share similar traits to him, while Taeyong excitedly talked about his recent investment with a promising music company with the dream to debut talented individuals and go international in the long run.
“Mr. Lee Soo Man is dedicated to it! He hopes that next year, all his plans can start and be executed.”
“You’re always investing in start-ups, you know? You think this one will be bigger than the rest?”
“Music is universal, you know. Language barriers may be there, but music brings us together.”
Taeyong was always a delight to catch up with. However, you didn’t expect that conversation would be your last with him. A few days later, he suffered a sudden heart attack and passed. This was a sign that your time was coming. Your body falling more and more feeble every day as the disease fully took you over at night, the monitors always going on a high every so often.
It’s only a matter of time before you leave this life, and looking back, you’ve lived a tough yet productive life. Your daughter was happy and thriving in her career and family. You helped families and couples from their abusive households. You defended those with loved ones who were murdered, robbed, and lied to. You ticked off all you wanted to do beforehand.
Areum made sure to visit that night specifically as soon as she could. With your recent test results have been failing, her gut feeling kept insisting.
It’s a good thing she did.
Meanwhile, it was another day of work for Doyoung, just returning a bunch of books in their respective shelves after some teenagers left on the table. Before that, he bid Taeyong goodbye in the tunnel. It’s always nice to see a familiar face, so he couldn’t miss out on it. He shared any life stories he had with you, updating him about your state. Doyoung knew about it beforehand, and as selfish enough to look forward to it, it pained him to know you’re suffering. He only hoped you could fight through it.
“Doyoung-hyung!” Someone suddenly shouted, but he was shushed by an old lady reading her romance novel, who pointed at the sign that read “Keep quiet in the library”.
Doyoung was also annoyed, instantly nagging on the point person. “Kun! Can you read the sign? Jeez, this isn’t the first time so please-”
“(Y/N) is going off the monitor.” He blurted out. The news from one of the nurses he befriended buzzed through his phone. After finding out about his story, he wanted to help Doyoung especially when he was still alive. Doyoung may a part of the staff, but he’s still a guest. He dropped everything in his hands. Before he could race to the hospital, he changed into a specific outfit for this occasion.
This was it.
Areum was the only one by your side of your hospital bed, weeping due to your weak state. You didn’t want your other family members to witness this crucial moment. It stung that you’ll miss out on the futures of your grandchildren, but you were satisfied to just be a part of their lives. All this machinery trying to sustain your life served its purpose, but the illness you’re fighting was stronger.
“Mom....” Areum sniffled in her handkerchief, holding on to your boney hand. “I’m not ready for you to go.”
“Oh, Areum.” Your thumb caressed her soft palm as reassurance. “You grew up so well. An independent woman you are, you are so loved.”
“Mom, please....” She begged. “I can’t lose you too.”
You will never know how Areum held in her sorrow of not being able to grow up with her father. She hated the feeling of being fully abandoned. She wanted things and people to return to her, but she can’t make that choice. Being by her side all her life, losing you will be the hardest struggle she’ll have to face.
“Areum, you must understand...” You paused as a pang of pain in your chest stabs you. After a minute of enduring it, you continued. “...We are put on this world for a specific time. And if we’re called to leave, we must face it.”
She whimpered whilst holding on to your hand. She really thought you can get through this one like the rest, but your hair has gone, your body lost much weight, and your eyes lost their light.
“Mom, are you happy? You’ve fought through so much to get where you are. I can never do what you did.”
“Y-Yes, I am.” You stuttered, gracing a promising smile. “I had you, our families, and your father watching over me..”
The dreams you get on your birthday were fairytale-like stories that pushed Areum to become an author. She denied how unrealistic and supernatural they were at first. Another trait of Doyoung she got. However, when she noticed how wider your smiles are and energetic you get in the mornings after rather the feeling of distraught, she reckoned to believe they were something special. Despite knowing your love story and its downfall, she felt exhilarated at the things you and her dad did there. In a way, it brings him closer to her. But she still had that void.
“I envy you for that, mom. I wish I met him or at least came to me even if I least expected it!”
Oh, little did she know about that time in the bookstore back in the 70s. It was not coincidental; you and Doyoung planned it very well. You just played along to her complaint, alerted that this wasn’t your story to tell at this time. “Forgive your father just this once, okay? He never wanted this kind of fate for any of us. If one thing stayed constant in those dreams, it’s him always asking how you are doing.”
Her tears become uncontrollable, allowing herself to get puffy eyes and let it all out. “When you see him, please tell him I’m sorry and that I love him no matter.” “Oh, Areum. He knows that, so don’t worry about it.”
The clock was ticking for Areum before she’ll be asked to leave. With you bringing up her father again, she had one last question. Her courage to ask it was so little when she was young in fear you sulk and break down. It hurt her when the bad parts of your past tormented you.
“How much do you miss him?” The question put you in a point of self-reflection. The only person you’ve opened up to talk about him in detail was Areum. Even with your friendships with Taeyong and Jungwoo, there were some things you never disclosed with them. And never did they force you to answer because they can read you on the back of their heads: you’re still heartbroken, yet remained devoted to him.
“I miss him so much that even if this became my fate for accepting his notebook back in our university days, I would foolishly do it all over again. In those times he was no longer with us, it taught me to appreciate what and who we have in our lives because tomorrow is never guaranteed. From his impact, I learned to take care of myself again so I can take better care of you. I’m grateful you were born; he left a piece of him for me.”
“You’ve suffered so much, mom. I hope you can rest peacefully.”
“Thank you for never leaving my side, Areum.” A few tears escaped your eyes, infectious to your daughter’s gloom. “I love you.”
Meanwhile, Doyoung was right outside viewing you and Areum sharing your last conversation and goodbyes. As much as he looked forward to reuniting with you, he didn’t want to leave his only daughter alone. The deities should have shown her more mercy. Still invisible, he observed how Areum trembled when she heavily closed the door of your hospital room. Covering her sobs with her handkerchief, she took one last look through the small glass of the door. You dove into a deep sleep that would then be unawakened.
“I hope your next life is happier than this, mom, and you can cross paths again with dad and grow old with him too.”
Doyoung’s urge to show himself to his daughter to console her was overpowering him, but he restrained himself this time. A few hours later, your consciousness was faltering. Your five senses were losing touch one by one. Important memories of your long life played in your mind. Then your heart gave in and stopped beating. The doctors present there have pronounced you dead. The transition from your body to your soul watching it be covered by a blanket by the nurses was swift yet strange. You didn’t know where to go and what’s next. No book prepared you for this nor can you ask the doctors what to do. Standing there lost with so many questions, it only took someone’s enthusiastic calling for your name to soothe you down.
“(Y/N)!”
It hit you instantaneously that when your day comes, Doyoung would call for your name. Your old age and past illness really affected your memories. He was an honest man and kept to his word this time.
And there he was, just along the hallway.
This was no longer a dream.
This novel kind of exhilaration got you moving your feet, still sore and slow because you were still an old lady.
“Doyoung!”
You shouted back, over and over again before your boney hands slid open the door. At the same time, your old figure drastically and permanently transformed you back to your active twenties. Nothing physically hurt anymore and your energy was on an all-time high. Your room was the last on the floor, a dead end. The left side of the hallway was just a closed window pane.
When you stepped outside and turned to your right, there he properly stood. He wore the same suit and suspenders combination on the day he approached you on your bike. The actual soul of Kim Doyoung who was no longer behind the phone. No matter how many times he’s seen you from afar, it makes him lose his breath from the captivation. For once, he can see you without barriers.
You just realized how you were dressed back into the floral dress on the day you had your first proper conversation. It’s like you’re meeting each other again for the first time. The beeping sounds of the monitors, wheelchairs moving, and chitter-chatter exchanged by doctors went mute. Stunned, you couldn’t stop looking eye to eye at him, cherishing this special moment.
It finally processed to Doyoung that his patience and efforts paid off. In this journey of acceptance, while enduring its trials, it added up to this sweet result to be reunited with you. The adrenaline rush took control of your limbs, legs running to him on the other side.
As his arms widened for a hug, he spun and picked you around in the air. His arms firmly wrap around your waist while your head snuggled on top of his shoulder. You felt safe, warm, and alleviated. Once he put you back down, the overwhelming joy wasn’t keen to pull away from your lover. Doyoung’s lips somehow got closer to yours, your heart skipping beats and his familiar scent intoxicating your thoughts.
With Doyoung still having you wrapped in his arms, he took his awaited chance to close into your parted lips. The fluttering in your stomach was on overdrive, your entire body reacting immediately from his passion. One hand curled into a fist on the hem of his buttoned top while the other rubbed the back of his head. Your legs almost gave in, but with Doyoung’s strength, he held you tight. No previous kiss felt like this. You didn’t have to worry about getting caught by adults for such a provocative display of affection. Your roommate wasn’t going to splash water if she catches you getting frisky on campus. As for Doyoung, he didn’t have to get paranoid about what his classmates would say about their relationship. You were both in your own world for a while.
But wanting to catch a breather from his thrilling dominance, your lips hesitantly moved away first. You took your time to get lost in admiring his features. Wet, swollen lips, flushed cheeks, his dazed eyes, he was irresistible, to say the least.
This was how an almost 50-year build-up would end up to.
“My love, it’s really you,” You finally spoke, caressing your thumb on his flushed cheek. “You’ve been through so much.”
As lovestruck as he is, his pent-up tears streamed down instantly. Except they were tears of joy. All those years he held back.
“I’ve missed you so much, (Y/N). I’m just happy you’re finally here with me.”
He wasn’t joking when he said that the main lobby alone was exquisite after walking through the city. Aside from Kun, that’s where he introduced you to other staff he worked with, such as Jeno, Jaehyun, and the boss herself, Manwol.
“This boy stayed very loyal, you know?” She commended Doyoung. It was a rare thing with her cold-hearted and aggressive personality. “He read to a lot of kids, taught some of them too, and recommended great books for the souls to read. He listened to a lot of souls who wanted justice then forwarded them to you so they can cross the other side.”
An honor to hear from the owner herself, you glanced at Doyoung with so much love. Such a giver than a receiver.
Beside Manwol was someone whom you aspired to meet. Unfortunately, you never met the other boys you’ve helped, so this was a great chance to see at least one before moving on. Hearing about his case and the treachery of it, you made sure to work on it before you retired, eventually passing it on to one of your trusted juniors. So far, his side was winning and that’s all you wanted.
“Jeong Jaehyun.” You held on to his clasped hands as he bowed to you.
“Attorney (Y/L/N). I’m so grateful for what you’re doing for me.”
“Oh, just call me (Y/N). By the way, your side is winning, my dear. Your younger brother Sungchan is committed to clearing up your name, and that evil Hongseok will rot in life imprisonment for his crimes.” You updated him. Without self-restraint, his arms gather you in for a hug. Jaehyun wasn’t much for affection, but this felt like the right circumstance. In return, you hugged him back.
“Thanks to you, Johnny and Yuta are resting in peace.”
“And you are next, Jaehyun. My junior taking your case is topnotch, so you’re bound to get what you truthfully deserve.”
After sharing such a heartfelt moment, you asserted your attention to Jeno. Not going to lie, you’ve looked forward to meeting this boy the most. He was there with Doyoung from the very beginning.
“Doyoung-hyung gets giddy after he makes a call, and tells me everything that you’ve been up to.” Jeno joined in. “He gets grumpy though too, so I like pestering him around to light him up. Oh, I’ll never know what you see in him, (Y/N).”
That gave him a joking slap on the shoulder by Doyoung, signaling to cut it out.
“Hyung!” He fakely cried, hiding his face behind Jaehyun’s shoulder.
You suppressed a laugh, eventually sputtering out like an engine. Doyoung sighed, failing to redeem himself. But it’s alright. A simple peck from you on his cheek got him all flustered.
“Aish, take your romantic shenanigans when you’re in your room, not in my damn lobby.” Manwol cringed, the evident love bug getting on her nerves. “Alright, everyone. Get back to work!”
Checking in your room was an experience. Since you’ve been to numerous places through the dream calls, there was one main thing you’ve missed to do with Doyoung. As soon as he lifted you by your thighs and roughly shoved his tongue down your throat, you were in for a heated evening. This dominant side of Doyoung when it came to sex was completely fresh. After diving into more erotica over time, he learned about visual porn through Johnny and Jeno. You can say that he studied it very well.
“Almost 40 years of waiting, (Y/N).” He trapped you from above, sliding one of his hands to your bare breasts until it landed on your clothed core. Rubbing up and down your clit in a torturously slow place, he smirked at your desperate whines. Your breaths turned heavy, soaked by his actions. “Remember when I told you to brace yourself back then?”
“Shit, Doyoung...”
“Shush love, I’m in control now. So be a good girl for me, alright?” He growled in your ear, sucking on your soft spot on your neck. You obeyed that night, unbuttoning his shirt impatiently only to reveal his toned abdomen then lowering his crotch to give it a tight squeeze.
He hissed against your neck, pushing your panties to the side and sliding in your wetness.
“You are asking for it now, love.”
A steamy night it was, making up for all those lost years.
The following day, the struggle to walk was real. Jeno even pointed out your limping when you were roaming around the library Doyoung worked at. You never had a younger sibling, but he acted like one. So you punched him in the shoulder to shut up. “Jeez, you’re both so physical. Let me live!”
“Jeno, you’re dead. Don’t say nonsensical things.”
You learned how this hotel’s main purpose was to guide and fulfill the last wishes of ghosts in the living world before moving on. When Jeno asked you if you still have unfinished business, you realized that there is one thing left. Even if you completed your bucket list, that one thing is only possible through the hotel. You and Doyoung sat across Manwol, monitoring your shared dream call like she always did.
“Is this really the only thing you want to do here, (Y/N)?” Positively nodding, she gave you the signal to lift up the phone.
Areum found herself in an unfamiliar forest nearby a river during the day. Even she’s always like playing outside with nature in her childhood years, this location didn’t ring a bell. In fact, she was physically back to being that young girl with the same mature mind in this dream.
She wasn’t a vivid dreamer like yourself, forgetting them as so as she woke up. Even in that “dream” with her father, there were so many gaps. So for this one time, she can fully grasp her surroundings. This dream must have a purpose, she wondered.
While she followed the path that the dream assumed for her to take, she then clearly caught a glimpse of a younger you at the end of that path. Running around and laughing in the grass.
“Mom!” She called out, moving at a faster pace. It’s a good thing this dream brought her back her agility.
At the end of the path, it unveiled you lying down on the grass. Wearing in a dainty dress that reminded her of the 50s, there was an unfamiliar young man beside you. His head face planted on the grass because you pushed him off your body when he tried to tickle you.
It turned out that she arrived at your favorite spot with Doyoung. She’s only heard stories of things you’ve done and talked about her, but due to the war, their spot was devastated. Soon after, it turned into a small condominium building overlooking the river.
“Areum!” You squealed cheerfully to hear her much younger voice. She tackled you in a hug, and you still naturally felt it from where you sat.
“My sweet child,” You cooed in her, patting her back. “How are you?”
“It’s been difficult, but I’ll get by in time.” That was the first thing she managed to say, the grief being very much fresh. No mother wants to be separated from her child, and you weren’t exempted. But that is how life works: you come then you go. The truth tends to hurt.
It was obvious to Doyoung that you were still saddened by leaving Areum, taking this opportunity to give you space and finally interact with his daughter. No disguises nor distance. While the most important women in his life are still hugging in the dream, he pulls himself off from the grass and brushes away some leaves from his hair.
“Areum, I see you paid me back by having top-selling books for children.”
Areum peeked from your shoulder to check who the other man was by your side talking to her. Once he was clean from dirt and leaves, there was the only person he resonated with her. From pictures and stories shared by you, the actual man was with her.
Her actual father was in this dream with her.
“Dad!” She abruptly pulled away from you to approach her father for a bigger hug. You don’t blame her for that, she deserved to see her father even for a bit.
Years of having that empty void only for her biological father, she could care less at this very moment
Doyoung has never cried in a dream call with you, however, this long-awaited moment with his daughter resulted in him softly bawling while feeling her hugs from the chair. He’s proud and at peace to move on not just as your lover or a passionate university student, but as a father.
In their moment of content, only there did it make complete sense to Areum at the unusual memory during the ‘70s at the bookstore wasn’t random. It proved that he really did his best to reach out to her in any way he could.
“This whole time, you were the mysterious tokki. I just thought it was a coincidence. I’m so sorry, dad, that I didn’t notice you.” She sulks. Doyoung in the dream pats her back while lovingly rubbing the nape of her head.
“Oh, Areum. Don’t feel bad. I just wanted to see how much my little girl became independent and studious.” He replies, comforting the disheartened child. “I read all the letters you sent me during my birthday. I was touched then and touched now for this moment. I am proud of you, my daughter. And my love for you never changed.”
The affirmation in his words put Areum in a state of joy, rekindling that spark from the 70s. “I love you, dad.”
Your last mission in this world was to have a special outing with your complete family. Regret was always prevalent in the past, wanting to do this and that but never pushed through. But not in this dream. Just the three of you, happy and carefree from it all.
Unfortunately, Manwol just gave a hand signal that your time was almost up. Time flies by so quickly when you’re fully immersed in something you’re enjoying. Doyoung wasn’t capable to bear the bad news, but with you by his side, you helped him.
“Areum, it’s time for us to go.”
Areum sighed, reality seeping back into the situation. One sleep isn’t enough to make up years of loss. However, she still managed to remain positive in those circumstances. “I wish things worked out differently for our family, but who knows what our next lives will take us?”
In an instant, the two of you in the dream gave your daughter a big group hug. One she’s always yearned for. It’s moments like this where you mustn’t take anything for granted with your family.
“I’m happy you’re reunited with each other, mom and dad. Rest well.” She whispers with a smile, feeling fulfilled. She can grace the living world without wondering how things would be like with a complete set of parents anymore. This dream call successfully filled that empty void in her heart.
Once you’ve bid your final farewell and hung up the phone, you and Doyoung can say the same. A little bittersweet, but it lightened all the burdens in your hearts. The both of you can ultimately rest peacefully and move on.
The timing was perfect for Kun to inform you that the car taking you to the bridge leading to the afterlife was ready.
Jeno, Manwol, Kun, and Jaehyun didn’t want to miss out on this moment, waving farewells to you both. This lifetime may have taken you away from each other physically for a long time, but you still held on to each other. Most people gave up, though it’s not wrong either. It’s better to let go rather than holding on sometimes.
But the both of you were different, something, not even the deities didn’t expect. It’s only up to them to decide if they’ll give you another chance to be together and relive a longer life. A very rare sight indeed. To be granted or not, your story set a standard.
That a love so strong is so patient it endured all the challenges and stress.
“On to the next life, Doyoung?” You asked him, leaning against his shoulder as the car drove under the tunnel. All at the end of it was merely a white sky, where a long bridge awaited them.
“Make sure you wait for me this time.”
#nct#nct 127#nct dream#wayv#nct scenarios#nct fluff#nct smut#nct imagines#nct angst#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 imagines#kim doyoung#doyoung x reader#doyoung fluff#doyoung imagines#doyoung smut#kim doyoung scenarios#kim doyoung imagines#doyoung angst#nct x reader#nct 127 x reader
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“The Sex Lives of College Girls” misses the representation mark with Bela Malhotra
It took me awhile to get to HBO’s “The Sex Lives of College Girls” for a number of reasons. For one, I’m a full time high school teacher and grad school student, which should tell you plenty about how much I want to spend my few moments of free time in front of a screen on top of how much I already do. Much less to watch yet another show centering around people my age playing minors, or at the oldest, 18-year-old college freshmen.
And honestly, if you’ve read any of my previous reviews regarding work executive produced, created, or co-written by Mindy Kaling, you would know that I do not typically allow myself to have high hopes for it.
Reading on is important, as is reading those reviews (about films/tv shows centering whiteness/men even if and especially when the main character is a woman of color and oftentimes the embodiment of one-dimensional or deprecating tropes). And also, before anyone immediately decides this is a bout of internalized racism or misogyny, I have noted previously that Mindy Kaling has made it a point of how she is unfairly expected to be a spokesperson for the South Asian experience when white men are not held to the same responsibility or criticized in the same way because they get to tell their singular stories (which are naturally defaulted as the story most worth producing/telling/renewing). I do agree that that is unfair.
With that said, it cannot be ignored that part of her success and recognition for major accomplishments is celebrating that she is a noteworthy first in many respects directly related to her identity as a South Asian female actor, writer, director, and producer, and for the fact that she is putting on South Asian female leads in spaces where we have not previously seen them: in the leads of mainstream tv series and films. I love this, in theory, and I think it’s important to critique it in practice.
Did I recently submit my final capstone paper for my graduate degree? Have I suddenly found the time to write an unsolicited thinkpiece on a piece of media that maybe a dozen people will read? Is that what I majored in during undergrad and do I want to revive my love of writing, which felt attacked by the demands of homework assignments and working in academia? Yes, yes, yes, and yes. And I am especially critical of narratives that shape public opinion about my identity as a South Asian woman. I have also created my own work in the hopes of diversifying depictions of desi characters, and the more I see disheartening, repetitive caricatures, the more I feel compelled to explain why this is not okay as well as keeping making my own art in the form of fiction writing, screenplays, or digital art that centers and celebrates my identity in an empowering manner. Because you can be funny and find love and explore your interests and challenge tradition and break down intergenerational trauma without making jabs at yourself, seeking proximity to whiteness, or making your content palatable to an audience that at a baseline, knows very little about your culture and wouldn’t be interested in learning more unless you have Dwight from The Office explain what Diwali is.
“The Sex of College Girls” sticks to Mindy Kaling’s brand of comedy (self deprecation, the “playful” and somehow not harmful ignorance of white people, lots and lots sexual innuendos), only with more explicit nudity/language afforded by being an HBO production. In this 10-episode series, four college freshmen roommates navigate identity, sexuality, and the other social, financial, and academic demands of being at a prestigious university in Vermont, which is fictionalized in the show as Essex College.
Amrit Kaur plays Bela Malhotra, a sex-positive, crass-humoured Indian-American girl who is very interested in exploring and unleashing her sexually repressed self, now that she is no longer living with her traditional Indian parents, who think she is studying in neuroscience. She is very passionate about being a comedy writer and writing for the school’s renowned comedy magazine, known as the Catullan. I want to say she is a refreshing new character compared to what we have seen Mindy Kaling create, but she is really just Mindy’s character, Molly Patel, in Late Night (2019) and Devi Vishwakumar from her Netflix series, Never Have I Ever, in a different font. In addition, she cracks the same regurgitated jokes about body hair and is written alongside or hinted at having exclusively white male love interests. Again.
Not even two minutes into the pilot episode, when the girls are being dropped off to their dorms by their parents, Bela delivers a painful monologue comparing her transformation into a liberated college woman to Ben Affleck’s back tattoo of a phoenix rising up from the ashes. (Like Mindy Lahiri’s character in The Mindy Project, Bela communicates through celebrity references to make her point.) She tells her parents, “Four months ago, I was an Indian loser with cystic acne, sweaty armpits, and glasses. But with one Lasik procedure, an Accutane prescription, and medical-grade Botox injected into my armpits, I’m normal.”
HBO Max’s TikTok account even recently highlighted that particular scene, as if it’s some hilarious self-aware joke that attacks what society expects women to go through to be considered normal. But this did not do what the writers think it did. Why is Bela’s Indian-ness something she has to overcome in order to achieve “normal-ness”, whatever that is? Her experiences of being a teenager who sweats a lot, has acne, and wears glasses is not unique to Indian girls, so why is it being portrayed as such? Why did she specifically say she was an “Indian loser”?
Throughout the rest of the episode and series as a whole, the show touches on heavier topics such as classism, internalized homophobia, and sexual assault, which depressingly, majority of women in college experience. And this very much happens to women in their occupations, particularly in the entertainment industry. Instead of being used as filler plot devices, the challenges that the four women experience do inform their relationships with each other and themselves, so I was almost relieved that this was handled with a little bit more nuance. Bela has to consider what it means to be authentic to herself and hold people in positions of power accountable, whether it’s her parents for imposing expectations that are not fulfilling to her or the head writers of the Catullan for facilitating a dangerous bro culture that makes it difficult for her or other victims to come forward about the sexual assault(s) or advance in her writing pursuits.
I know that they say to write what you know, and Mindy Kaling knows about the world of working with white men in comedy who may abuse their power or make women like Bela work extra hard to prove that they are worthy of a seat at the table. She knows what it’s like to go to an Ivy League school on the east coast. She knows how tricky it is to juggle the expectations and American dream of immigrant parents while growing up in America and trying to figure out who you are. However, I think it would’ve been more interesting and something truly new of Kaling to create Bela through the lens of any one of her other roommates’ story arcs, like being a wealthy, closeted femme lesbian whose family assumes she will marry/date a man within their approved social circle. Or getting caught in an infidelity scandal that impacts her membership on the collegiate soccer team and draws additional controversy because she is a senator’s daughter. Or coming from a low income, conservative family and experiencing a lot of painful or complicated firsts that impact her scholarship/financial standing to be able to continue to attend Essex College. All of these narratives are ones that the modern desi girl can relate to as well, no matter who plays the character. If we were to see something new however, Bela Malhotra would not be a horny science nerd who is subconsciously insecure of being Indian and very interested in sleeping with white men.
In a New York Times interview, Amrit Kaur said one of the cringiest, poorly articulated things she could have when asked about the significance of a character like Bela and why American culture is so obsessed with the sex lives of young women.
In an edited excerpt of their conversation, the actors of the show answered in a way that reflected the experience of their character. Pauline Chalamet who plays small town work-study student Kimberly named that fetishization of young women contributes to the obsession around girls having “crazy, amazing sex all the time”, but the show focuses more on the parts that are honest in that certain situations can be “awkward”, “weird”, and “funky”, which is exactly how Kimberly’s sexual debut and the ensuing events for her character unfold. Alyah Chanelle Scott, who plays Whitney, the soccer player and daughter of a U.S. senator, spoke to the hypersexualization of Black women as scandalous, with white women hailed as the standard of sexy, all seen through the male gaze. I agree with the importance of the show showing Black women getting to have “awkward, normal, messy sexual moments”. Maybe this will be explored in season 2 when news of the cheating scandal makes its way to the wife and eventually Whitney’s mother, who has already demonstrated a familiarity with facing a white public’s judgment in the show.
For some reason, Kaur felt the need to double down on the statement that Black women get oversexualized, and then add that “brown women have the exact opposite experience. We’re not sexualized at all – we’re virginal. So to now have a character that has sex and has all these ideas about sex, that’s all really important. She gets into a lot of dangerous situations as a result, but also learns a lot.” Framing it the way she did, as in unnecessarily comparing two minorities without any nuance, implies that Black women benefit from having the opposite experience of brown women, which simply isn’t true. In the cases where we see Black women reclaiming and celebrating their sexuality, they are subjected to additional scrutiny and consequences for their career/public image (see: Janet Jackson, Lizzo, Megan Thee Stallion, to name a few). She could’ve skipped the part about Black women and said brown women, more specifically Indian women, are not seen as sexual beings, and the point she was maybe trying to make would have come across better. When Black women are perceived as inherently sexual, they are not cast in empowering roles and the leads of HBO tv shows; they are ridiculed and victimized and harmed at a rate higher than any other demographic in the United States historically. This has been happening from as far back as the era of slavery after kidnapping and trafficking people from Africa, and today, in regards to crimes such as the kidnapping, rape, or murder of Black people. And the numbers are even higher for Black trans women.
Kaur’s statement was made in poor taste and was far too binary. Scott said what she needed to, without speaking for Indian women or their experiences, so why did Kaur feel like she could say what she did? It brings up other questions about voices that are being included and represented in this show both in front of and behind the camera.
What other writers besides Mindy Kaling and Justin Noble (you guessed it, a white man) participated in crafting this story? Were the only two options for this women of color in this narrative to be virginal/not sexual at all or to be very sexual (albeit in different ways from how they are usually portrayed)?I guess so, considering the very on-the-nose title of the show. But why was that how Kaur seemed to perceive the entire Black and brown experience to be as well? The power of media and representation – it really does impact and reinforce thinking.
In summation, I was left disappointed with Bela as a character and Kaur as one of the few examples of desi representation I have in mainstream media, and the closest to my background (as a Punjabi woman raised Sikh) since Lilly Singh came on the scene (and she’s a whole other story).
To my Punjabi women coming up and getting cast, to lowkey problematic Geminis, and to writer’s rooms everywhere (and maybe even some PR teams), do better.
#the sex lives of college girls#mindy kaling#desi#asian representation#south asian#hbo max#bela malhotra#amrit kaur
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