#she thinks she's gone mad (maybe because there's a history of mental illnesses in the family) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

forgiveness

request from @evadne-poventis: I was thinking my character Eva has known the Weasleys for years and she eventually got engaged to Fred, then the war happened, he passed and she moves in with George for support and they fall in love

pairing: fred x reader, george x reader

word count: 3.9k (YIKES)

warning(s): mentions of death, anxiety, mental illness, nightmares, implied sexual content so ~proceed with caution~ i s’pose

A/N: i am just.. so sorry

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @perksofbeingawf @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @how-do-life-does @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @snakesonaplane-7 | message me if you’d like to be added!

“We’ll get through this,” Fred said. He was standing across from you, outside of the Burrow, in the chilly, windy atmosphere, the sky turning a darker grey above you both. “We’ll get through this, and then we’ll get married and live happily ever after.”

You snorted at his silliness. Happily ever after. Who says things like that?

“Freddie,” you said, sniffling a little bit, trying your best to not think of the unknown.. the impending war just moments away, “What if—”

“No,” Fred silenced you by pressing his lips to yours, his hands cupping your face, your tears surely falling onto his fingers, “Don’t. Everything will be alright. You’re strong. We’ll be alright.”

You believed him. You believed him with every ounce of your entire being.

“Okay,” you replied. You peered at him with solemn eyes.

“Besides,” he started, losing the very serious tone to his voice, “if something happens, who’s going to dance with you at our wedding?” He began to dance very obnoxiously, making you laugh through your crying. You couldn’t help it. Fred was always making you laugh. He spun you around, lifted you off of the ground, and then placed you gently on your feet. But he was nervous, too. Very scared. You could see it in his eyes and in the way his voice was caught in his throat when he said, “When this is all over, you’ll be my mine forever—and the rest will be history.”

“Y/N?”

A soft voice wafted into your bedroom, taking you by surprise, and bringing you back to reality. It was George. His eyes looked red and tired. Like he’d been crying.

The apartment you shared was grey and colorless. It desperately needed to be dusted, but you both couldn’t bring yourselves to do so.

It had been six months since the war.

Fred hadn’t survived. One of many.

Your ‘happily ever after’, was it shattered? Were you to be considered a widow? You didn’t know—you weren’t technically married to him when he died. You adjusted yourself on the bench near your window and George came over to you and sat himself down next to you.

“You okay?”

“Just thinking.”

George nodded and offered a small smile. He didn’t need to say anything else. You both just knew. “Hungry?” He stood up and stuck out his hand and helped you gently to your feet.

You let out a soft hum and the two of you made your way into the kitchen.

After the war, after Fred had been killed, you asked George to move into the apartment that you and Fred had lived in together right after your engagement. When he saw how distraught you were, the emptiness and loneliness in your eyes, he immediately packed up his things and took to the empty room across from yours.

You’d fallen into a comfortable living arrangement. You’d spent your days at work, and George did his best to make his way back into the shop with Ron by his side. But it wasn’t the same. It was drastically different than how you imagined life after the war.

George found himself growing very comfortable beside you. It was nice to have someone else in the house—another body, another presence. It helped to not feel so desperately alone in what seemed like the worst few months of your entire life.

But you still desperately missed Fred. It seemed as though he came to visit nearly every night. You felt him beside you—when you slept, you could almost feel his arms around you, his smirk against your neck, hands tightening around your waist.

But each and every time you woke up, the space in the bed next to you was empty. You re-lived it every single day. You constantly grabbed at the sheets, desperate to feel his body. George re-lived it everyday, too..

You both missed Fred more than you could express with any amount of words or tears.

“C’mon then—we’re going to be late for class,”

“I don’t really care about class, to be honest with you,” he pulled on your hand and gently pressed you against the wall in the emptying corridor.

“McGonagall’s going to have your head.”

“Then let her,” Fred said breathlessly, brushing his thumb swiftly against your cheek, “I just need a bloody moment alone with you.”

He gently pressed his lips to yours, and you thought that maybe you could skip Transfiguration, just this one time— “It’s a shame we never get to be alone.”

“Mm,” he replied, barely breaking from you, “tell m’ about it,”

He moved down to your neck. Breathlessly, you told him, “Reckon you’ll just have to find a way to sneak into the girls dormitory tonight, then.”

He pulled back, eyeing you curiously. “You? Breaking the rules?” Such a tease.

“Oh shut up,” you replied, slapping him playfully. “You going to do it, or not?”

He laughed before kissing you again, “Love it when you talk sweetly to me, my love.”

One day George took you into the shop. It was only his second time back since his twin’s untimely demise.

“Does it look absolutely dreadful in here?” he asked you, laughing softly as he turned on the light.

“Not at all,” you replied and squeezed his hand. “Still just as bright and inviting as the day you opened.”

He offered you a small smile, grateful for your kind words. “D’you ever think I’ll be able to do it again? You know...run this place? Without him?”

His voice caught in his throat. It seemed as though tears were welling up in his eyes. “Yes,” you told him, confident as you’d ever been. “I do. And I think Fred would want you too, don’t you reckon?”

George laughed again, leaning against the counter. The shop, so very large and inviting, seemed so small now in its emptiness. “Can’t you hear him? Scolding me.”

“Yeah, I can,” you agreed. Was it okay to smile yet? Seemed as though George felt the same way, because he let himself grin from ear to ear, and immediately stopped when he felt a guilty pang in his heart. You felt a tug on your heartstrings. He looked so broken.

George was your best friend in the world. That’s how it had always been. He’d always been your closest confidant, the person you went to for everything. He was the first person you spilled your guts to when your feelings for Fred had changed, the first person you ran to when Fred told you he felt the same way. You didn’t tell anyone else about your engagement until you told George first—that’s how Fred wanted it. And now that Freddie was gone, it seemed to have only brought you and George closer. Was that a bad thing?

You both felt guilty about it, but, at least you had one another.

One night, you dreamt of Fred. It was one of many dreams you’d had since he died, but the most vivid. He was sitting across the Divination classroom from you, gazing at you as if he were in some sort of trance, sending winks across when Professor Trelawney wasn’t looking. Then it flashed to a scene outside in the corridors, when he’d kissed you on the cheek before heading in the opposite direction. Freddie, come back! Where was he going?

A crack of thunder woke you with a start. You felt your fingertips brushing your cheek, where Fred had just kissed you. For a moment you thought it was very real, only to stare down at the space next to you in bed.

It wasn’t the first moment of panic you’d had since the war.

You began to cry uncontrollably, gasping desperately for air, your face blotchy and red and swollen from the tears. The rain was coming down harder, now. George nearly scared the living daylights out of you when he opened your door, looking panicked as well.

“What’s wrong—are you alright?”

But you didn’t need to tell him. He knew you’d dreamt of Fred. “Lumos.” He placed his wand on your bedside table and pulled you into his arms as he sat down next to you, your head resting delicately against his chest as you continued to cry. Your body shook in his arms. His presence was comforting, though. He kept gently sweeping his hands through your hair, telling you softly every few moments that everything would be alright, squeezing his arms tighter around you. He wanted you to feel safe. That’s all he’d ever wanted. He wanted to take the pain away, and it broke his heart every single day that he couldn’t. He just wanted Fred to be here.

He pulled you to your feet and cupped your face in his hands before pulling you into him and pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead. As your crying slowed, your hands tightened around his waist. At least he was here. At least you hadn’t lost him too. You choked back a sob and he asked you delicately, “D’you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

You shook your head.

“D’you want a bit of tea?”

You shook your head again. And then, to his surprise, “Just...stay?”

He felt nerves like he’d never felt in his life, but he didn’t let on. He didn’t want you to see, because you didn’t know. Nobody did.

Nobody knew that George had been madly in love with you since before you and Fred had gotten together.

Not even Fred knew. And being the gentleman that he is, George never said a word to his twin, or to anyone, when you two began dating. And when you’d decided to move in together, he helped you unpack things in your new home with his brother. And when you and Fred ran to him to tell him you were engaged, he swallowed his pride and held you both in his arms, ready to celebrate.

And when Fred died, George promised himself he’d do everything in his power to keep his brother’s fiancé happy and safe.

So, if you wanted him to stay now, he shouldn’t feel guilty about that, right?

He swallowed over a lump in his throat when you peered up at him, eyes solemn and bloodshot and needy. Why were things so much easier to spill in the middle of the night? There was something about the darkness, about the stars twinkling in the sky, that made him feel so vulnerable.

He ran his hands from your neck, across your shoulder blades, down your arms and around your hips, squeezing tightly. Was this a mistake? You were closer to one another than you’d ever been.

You had this overwhelming urge to just.. inch forward.

He pressed a soft, chaste kiss to your lips and when you pulled away, you kept your eyes closed for a brief moment before opening them again. He waited with baited breath for your next move, the very quick rise and fall of his chest visible to you.

It was easy to become vulnerable in the middle of the night.

You grabbed the collar of his pyjamas, pulled him closer to you and kissed him sweetly. It started relatively slow, easy.. innocent. But it quickly turned hungry and dizzy and dangerous. He was on top of you, his lips on your neck and his hands underneath your shirt. He was desperate to feel your soft skin beneath his fingertips. The rain continued on, drowning out the rest of the world around you, but you could still hear soft moans escape his lips. It was comforting, in a strange way, to be in a world of your own..

Because while the rest of the world was rejoicing at the ending of the war, you and George were just doing your best to find something that felt normal. Okay. Real. So was it so terrible that in the midst of all of this, you’d found one another? Feeling his body pressed hard against you, in this way.. it felt strangely familiar. Like home.

Your eyes fluttered open to the light sound of the rain pattering on the rooftop a little while later. Inches from you, George’s eyes were opening too and he reached out to run his fingers through your hair. He leaned forward and kissed you gently.

You were both quiet, drifting in and out of sleep, lazily pulling your sheets across your bare bodies. You were busy running your fingers gently over his muscles when he awoke and smiled softly at you.

He took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, and then you noticed it.

Your engagement ring. You hadn’t had the courage to take it off since..

You stopped short, and George noticed. Panicking, you backed away from him, tightening the covers around your chest and slamming your hand across your mouth to keep from screaming. Tears escaped your eyes with no effort.

He shot up immediately, pulling himself closer to you on the bed. “It’s—it’s alright—”

You bit back a sob, shaking your head violently, pulling your robe around you as quickly as you possibly could. George did the same. He stood up, feeling incredibly guilty, and walked around the bed and stood in front of you, looking as sad as he did on the day his twin was taken from him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

You shook your head at him and finally found your voice—though, admittedly, rather shaky due to the tears. “No, no it’s—this—” you pointed back and forth at one another, “We—we can’t, George.”

“I know. We can just.. we can pretend like it never happened. I’ll just—I’ll go back to the Burrow.”

It felt as though your heart was breaking all over again. You couldn’t lose George, too. Panic was rising in your chest. “No, no! Please don’t go. We—we can work through this, okay? We’re just—sad. That’s all it was.”

You immediately regretted these words. George felt as though he was reliving every painful moment when he was reminded that you were not his. When after a Quidditch cup victory, Fred scooped you up into his arms and kissed you fiercely and George just had to pretend it didn’t hurt. When he’d painfully join you in the common room and you two snuggled close together on the couch. When you said to George, over and over and over again, how much you loved Fred when he’d finally asked you to marry him.

“Right,” he begrudgingly agreed, “we’re just.. sad.”

There was a heavy, painful silence between you both before George squeezed your hand and headed back to his room, alone, feeling more empty than he ever had been. He fell backwards onto his bed, and then pulled out family photographs from his bedside table. He cried nearly the entire night looking through them—guilt and sadness and pain taking him over. He was sure his twin would hate him now. He didn’t sleep. Your bed was cold without him. You didn’t sleep, either.

Things seemed to fall back to normal after that. Well—as normal as things could be, you supposed. The two of you did not discuss that night. It truly was like it never happened. But every so often, you found yourself bringing your fingers to your lips, remembering how it felt to be close to George in that way.

And George always remembered the feeling of your body pressed to his.

He was very apprehensive, but he stayed in the apartment. He didn’t move back home. He didn’t want to leave you. He needed to keep the promise he made—to make you feel safe and happy. So he stayed, and went back to pretending, went back to silently hurting. He went back to making his number one priority, you. Giving you a normal life, no matter what.

He watched you one evening, hovering over the soup on the stove, breathing in the steam—surely thinking about things, and he wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms and kiss you sweetly in the sunlight flooding the kitchen. But he couldn’t, and he didn’t.

Another three months had passed. You hadn’t once spoken about that evening, but you thought about it every single day. So did George. He tried very hard to suppress his feelings, he’d been approached by many at the shop, but he’d turned down each and every single one of them. He just couldn’t let you go. And your growing feelings for him were scaring you. You couldn’t stop them, no matter what you did. Was it wrong? What would people think—what would his family think? You had many restless nights, arguing with yourself to stay in bed, to not go into George’s room and slide in next to him—and just a few feet away, in a bed meant for two, George was arguing with himself about the exact same things.

You felt guilty, yes, you but even more so, you felt so incredibly alone—because now it didn’t seem like just Fred was gone.

It felt like George was gone, too.

He was busy closing up the shop one evening when you approached him, careful not to scare him in the quiet. You tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around slowly, eyes tired and.. broken. “Hey,” he said, offering a small smile, “ready for dinner?”

“Not very hungry,” you admitted sheepishly, grinning a bit. “I—I just—”

George’s eyes grew with concern, and his heartbeat increased a considerable amount. Not a word, not a glance, nothing was exchanged about those moments since they happened—were you really about to bring them up?

“You and your brother are very different, you know.”

Surprised, he took this in. He smiled. “Yeah? Tell me.”

“Fred was.. boisterous,” you both grinned, thinking on this. “Not that you aren’t too, he just.. was a bit more outgoing. Loud. Exuberant. You’re.. more sensitive, and delicate,”

“That doesn’t make me sound too good, does it?” he asked teasingly.

“You know what I mean,” you continued, looking down at your feet. “Fred always wore his heart on his sleeve. Everybody always knew what he was thinking. He always made it rather obvious. But you—” you reached out slowly and placed a hand to his cheek, choking back tears that were rising to the surface, “you keep it all in, George. Nobody ever knows what you’re thinking.”

He blinked and waited.

“And it drives me bloody crazy, you know?”

You both laughed at this, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling too much. “I’m.. so sorry about that night.”

“Y/N, don’t—”

“No, please,” you said, taking his hands in yours. “That night, I—I think I asked for a little more than I could bargain for. You just.. looked like home to me. Felt like it. You are home. But sometimes it still feels like yesterday that he died, and I felt so bloody guilty, and I didn’t want you to think that I was with you because—”

Because he was the closest thing to Fred you could have. Because he looked exactly like him. Because it was like having Fred back in your arms.

The guilt that overtook you was almost crushing.

“I hope I’m not overstepping.”

George cleared his throat and squeezed your hand. “You’re not. I appreciate your honesty.”

You nodded slowly and opted to continue, “You’re my best friend, George. You always have been, ever since we were little. But I want you to know that—I see you for you. I’ve always looked at you and Fred as different people. You’ve never just been ‘Fred and George’ to me. He’s always been his own person, and you’ve always been yours. Just because you look alike doesn’t mean you’re exactly the same. I’ve always loved how different you are. So please know, that night, it—I wanted it. To be with you, I mean. I wanted it.. not because of all the reasons one may think, I wanted it because I’d.. fallen in love with you.” George’s insides suddenly felt warm and gooey, and his nerves were going mad. Embarrassingly, you asked, “I’m—I.. I love you. Does this make any sense at all?”

“Yes,” he replied with a catch in his throat, “It does. In our own, strange way.”

He squeezed both of your hands and pulled you closer to him, when he noticed something.

Your finger. It was bare. He glanced down at it, and then at you.

You pulled out your engagement ring from Fred, twirled it slowly in your hands, both of you peering at it with tears in your eyes before placing it gently back into your pocket.

“I miss him.” George admitted. He furrowed his brows and a few tears escaped his eyes.

You sniffled a bit and bit your lip. “Me, too,” you replied breathlessly. And then, moving closer, “D’you think he’ll ever forgive us?” Guilt was still eating you alive, but why were you depriving yourself of some type of happiness, when it was standing right in front of you?

George thought on this for a moment, clearly feeling the guilt in waves, too. But he wanted you. He had for years, and he was so close to having you in his arms—but with what price to pay?

The loss of a brother, of a friend, of his own flesh and blood.

“I think,” George began quietly, blinking to push away any tears rising to the surface, “that he’d say there’s nothing for him to forgive.” And you knew it was true. Fred was just as selfless as George was. One of the few similarities between them both that you didn’t mind noting.

You looked up at him, finally feeling somewhat of a weight lifted off of your shoulders.

“Maybe this is his way of.. helping us. Bringing us together in a way we didn’t expect.”

You swallowed, “Do you still want to? Be with me, I mean.”

Laughing at his own overwhelming feelings, George resisted the urge to spill everything to you right then and there at that moment—how he’d been head over heels for you for years and never, ever once felt those feelings fluctuate. But he waited—he’d tell you one day. “Of course I do. Do you?”

“Yeah,” you told him, nodding your head in agreement, “I do.. I really do.”

He pulled you in, finally, for a searing kiss, the first time since that night all those months ago, and that feeling of familiarity and home flooded throughout his body. He gently brushed away the tears that fell from your eyes, and kissed you softly a few more times before pulling away completely. “I love you, you know.”

Forgiveness. A new beginning. It was a normal you never expected to have. Fred was still there. He always would be, in a different way. It was comforting in a way that nothing else ever would be, and you and George both knew that. He asked, watching you think, “Want to have a bit of tea?”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly, as if you’d just had a million pound weight lifted off of you. And then, softer now, as he intertwined his fingers with yours and let a small laugh escape his lips, you said, “Tea sounds lovely.”

Somewhere in the beyond, in a space filled with white, Fred Weasley was watching down on his brother and on the one who was supposed to be his.

But things changed, he supposed. He shrugged at the thought, and laughed.

He felt an arm wrap around his shoulder. “They’ve found happiness, haven’t they?”

He turned towards Sirius, who grinned at him.

Fred smiled softly. “There’s nothing more I wanted for them.” He felt an overwhelming, overbearing, astounding amount of happiness, warmth, and peace overtake him. There was nothing more he needed or wanted. Thinking on her and his brother, he replied, “Our story was meant to only last a short while.. theirs is meant to last a lifetime.”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated 🥰

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfiction #fred weasley reader insert #george weasley reader insert #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #im so sorry for this #sirius black #ron weasley

358 notes · View notes

poisonheadcrabsalesman · 3 years

Text

More therapy thoughts part 1/?

Behavior Theory Frameworks/Conditioning and What the fuck does Master Chief talk about in therapy?

Ramblings below - like a lot, like I spent too much time writing this and you should not read this

Behavioral Theory could work well as a framework with rehabilitating Spartan IIs if the case worker focused on Operant Conditioning Theory and Cognitive Social Learning Theory, which I talked about in this ask because I think I’m funny and this blog is an archive of me applying human behavior theories to video games.

Spartans have always been taught the mission comes first! Always! The 2s are indoctrinated from age 6-14 and then have that reinforced the rest of their lives. From the beginning they are taught to push themselves to the limits, earn their food by winning, form bonds with teammates but be ready to sacrifice them for the mission. The whole lives wasted vs spent conversation between John and Mendez after the augmentation surgery!

What the UNSC/ONI wants comes before their lives, the lives of other soldiers, civilians, AI etc. This constant conditioning of expectations and rewards has created the norms cemented in their minds. This becomes standard operating procedure.

Spartans are also an entirely separated social group, other people have made really great posts on how they are Othered and have their own way of communicating with body language. ODSTs hate Spartans, marines see them as cyborgs or saviors, and while they’re allies, Spartans are not seen or treated as human, by literally everyone. They are a means to an end, with the original goal being to maintain the UNSC’s position of power and crush the insurrectionists in the outer colonies, but uh oh Aliens!

Maybe the 2s aren’t as expendable as the 3s but the mindset and reinforcement of “mission first, people second” being repeated their entire lives is going to stick. So is the constant mistreatment and abuse from their fellow soldiers and handlers.

Addressing the cognitive distortions that come from their upbringing while also balancing the fact that Spartans are so fundamentally different from the way they developed to survive would be so much work, especially considering how much information on them is given to their therapist. The main distortion I would apply is minimization, making large problems small and not properly dealing with them, and specifically for John, personification, accepting blame for negative events without sufficient evidence.

Like these are grown ass super soldiers who can kill you in less than a second and calculate the amount of gravity in a room on the fly but then also can flounder when trying to comfort civilians or make small talk because their experiences and values are so alien to adults who had more developmentally “normal” lives.

Literally applying therapy to Spartans would be like, what was done to you was wrong, the ends do not justify the means, you were children and the adults in your life failed to protect you. You are a human person who is fallible and did the best you could with what you had. And the Spartan would say, “sounds fake but okay, can I pass my psych eval and go back to war now please?”

Jumping back to Behavior Theory

Different approaches to therapy under the Behavior Theory umbrella help modify negative behaviors with treatments like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Dialectical behavior therapy that teach individuals adaptive coping like emotional regulation, distress tolerance, cognitive distortions, and interpersonal communication. And that’s just one framework under the umbrella of human behavior theories.

Social work therapy is different from psych as it approaches individuals with heavily researched, evidence-based theories and frameworks in a holistic viewing of person-in-environment, instead of a strong focus on internal psychology.

Social work looks at all the interacting systems, environment, history, and internal and external factors affecting an individual. One of the most useful frameworks is the Biopsychosocial-Spiritual Frameworks (BPSS) when helping a client. It helps with identifying all the intersecting factors, both risk and protective, that shapes a client’s lived experiences. The most important thing to remember is that the individual is an expert in their own life, they know their experiences best.

The hardest part is applying this to Spartans because they Are So Fucked, their lived experiences, their environments and systems and institutions interacting with them, and the amount of their personal information that is probably so classified.

BPSS is a tool to help social workers assess individuals and their situations by collecting info that is related to the presenting issues and current and past circumstances. Info like medical history, hospitalizations, substance abuse, mental illness, personal relationships, family history and background, culture and norms, education, legal history, spirituality and participation etc. is all under this framework.

For Spartan 2s most of this info is lost or classified and helping someone who has repressed every negative emotion they've had for the sake of the mission would be so much to unpack but that’s also why you’re reading the mad ramblings over an over caffeinated nerd on the internet.

Life Course Theory which looks at developmental milestones and the individual’s experiences versus the socially expected markers, how do you apply that to children who were taken and have lived such different lives?

While early adolescence is when “normal” development of thoughts of self and identity take place alongside the physical changes of puberty, Spartans were being turned into emotionless calculating weapons. Sorry John, no forming a sense of identity and peer bonds for you, go kill that Watts guy who betrayed us and joined the insurrectionists.

And now that I’ve gone this insane and opened 2 whole textbooks up, let’s get to Master Chief thoughts. If you’ve read this far thank you, I swear I’m normal, 2020 has just been a weird year.

Why the fuck did I think I could write a therapy fic on a guy with 20 minutes of actual dialogue across almost 2 decades of games?

I make fun of him and call him a himbo, but he’s smart, he knows he’s being used and there is resentment there that’s been building for years.

There’s also decades of trauma and combat experience, physical, and emotional abuse, the lack of a support network, lack of an identity, the biological factors and aftermath of the augmentations and injuries he’s received, a whole lot of grief and self-inflicted guilt.

The loss of a third of his peer group with the augmentation surgery, Sam’s death, the loss of Reach (the only place he’s considered home), Keyes, the Pillar of Autumn crew, Miranda Keyes, Johnson, Cortana. He cares about the marines who fight with him!!!

He just stands there and takes it and rarely snaps, and even then it’s just small cracks on the surface with fissures running deep. The few details I will pull from Halo 5 are Blue Team’s reactions to John pushing himself so hard from the beginning of the game, and the literal crack in his armor from the fight with Locke. Like dude.

John’s a leader and will get the mission done but he tugs on the leash. He’s earned enough of a reputation and uses it to get his way.

Halo 2’s “Permission to leave the station” with Mr. “I’m going to hand deliver a bomb to the fusion reactor of a covenant supercarrier and hope my friends catch me”.

Halo 4 is when we see him say no to a superior officer and then 5 is him going AWOL. Palmer literally points out that no one is going to stop him.

Halo 5 kills me for many reasons but John bringing up Halsey and what she did to him and also pointing out that he knows Halo 5 Cortana is trying to manipulate him with psychological tactics hurts.

He knows what’s been done to him!

I cannot remember which book it was but John isn’t used to working alone. He literally takes fire because he was expecting someone to have his back!

He’s lost without Cortana! She was in his brain! Y’all! I played Halo Combat Evolved on the original xbox when I was like 8 and I knew these two were meant to be together. From the moment they met they had great chemistry and relied on each other! Cortana literally goes after people who have it out for John! John wants her approval and shows off for her in one of the books.

I’ve already written too much here but like all of the games have John showing off for Cortana, making dry jokes, jumping out of things he shouldn’t.

The whole point of this rambling is to try and get my thoughts about how to approach John’s character under control.

And that’s the thing. He’s lost control. He’s lost people, he’s losing his position and being phased out as an aging spartan, a relic. John’s used to following orders and making some decisions on the battlefield but it was always short term.

He has no identity beyond being a weapon. Complete the mission, clear the LZ, get put in cryo. Rinse, repeat.

The timeline of the games are what I'm most familiar with but with the comics and books too it’s one long run from Halo 2 to Halo 4. Cairo station to the Dreadnought to the crash landing to Forward Unto Dawn to Requiem to “The Didact is Dead but not really but we’ll deal with him off-screen”.

I know Hood apparently gave John R&R orders before Halo 5 that he ignored and kept running himself into the ground. This is a man who has to keep moving and keep being useful.

I imagine him giving in and seeking help as a last resort to fix any problems he has with performing his duties rather than helping himself be healthier.

Any professional he sees is going to have to approach him like they’re approaching a self sacrificing feral cat, with lunch meat and quiet. This man needs to have his support network closer, set up long term goals, and do some serious, and most likely incredibly painful, self reflection on where he’s come from and where he wants to go. Get him out of that tin can and into therapy. I don’t have a nice neat ending because this was a ramble and also therapy is not neat and tidy. Thanks for reading my words about mr halo

#this is not coherent but it needs out of my brain #John - has different characterizations based on what media he's in #Me - my writing must be in character or I Will Die #also me - we don't talk about halo 5 but i will loot its corpse for bits of lore I like #im sorry for being like this #my writing #Therapy time #John 117 #this is not a halo blog #haha this was peer reviewed nonsense #thanks yall for enabling me #i have even more ideas for the infinity sitcom folder now

46 notes · View notes

highfunctioningflailgirl · 4 years

Text

My Lethal White episode 1 recap

After having had a lot of fun recapping episode 2, I went back and did episode 1 as well. It got a bit out of hand and is a loooong post...

Under the cut, because, evidently, there will be ALL THE SPOILERS! 🚨

*SQUEEEEE!!!* THEY’RE BACK!!! 🤗💃🏻🙌🏼 (Yes, I’m still squeeing, although this is a rewatch)

Let’s look at the title sequence, shall we? They’ve added a few new details: There’s the wooden cross from the dell, the White Horse of Uffington and Robin’s Houses of Parliament guest pass. The child from Billy’s memories and the pink blanket. Someone’s already mentioned the ‘whore’ swirling in the coffee cup, and then later we have a fencing icon in the pint. Cool hints. 😎

Cut to tired, head-achy Cormoran at the wedding. Strike has a slightly different haircut, and I wonder: they dye Tom’s hair darker for the role, but he has a glint of natural first grey at the temples that I’ve seen on Tom pre-Strike. How did they keep that? (Sorry about the hair kink digression…☺️)

Pet peeve of mine they carried over from Career of Evil: in the book, Donald Laing slashes Strike’s palm, but it didn’t happen in the series. There was no blood on his hand when he called Robin, and his glove was intact. And yet, Strike has his hand bandaged. I know it’s a silly pet peeve of mine, but stuff like that pulls me out of the moment. And Strike wouldn’t slap on a bandage just for a little bruising. *steps off soap box*

“You look beautiful.” - “And you look terrible.” - “It’s this jacket, needs taking in.” 😂

“I want you back.” - “What?” Augh, the double meaning of it all, Strike’s softness and Robin’s initial uncertainty of what he means. 🥺

When she realizes that Matt deleted Strike’s messages, there’s a tear spilling from her eye, and she quickly wipes it away. 😢 Such good acting. Such a brave girl.

A few of us have already addressed this in the chat: did Matt BLOCK Strike, or delete his calls and messages? Or both? They’re frustratingly unclear about this detail, and it makes a difference in terms of Strike being able to reach her or not. (I’m a continuity nerd, sorry)

Sarah standing next to Matthew. *gags*

Robin looks so beautiful! And so very sad. (Holliday is acting her heart out of this season, can’t say it enough). This is award material, hands-down. 🏆

Her look across the room at Cormoran while they’re eating! And he’s… just been staring at her all through the meal? Good god. These two.

If Cormoran falls asleep before dessert he’s got to be really, REALLY tired.☺️ Poor baby.

We’ve got to work on your fine dining skills, Cormoran darling! It’s very cowboy and rugged, handling cutlery like that, but you would SINK during an aristocracy under-cover op. Maybe the Comte de la Fère is available for a lesson?

The first chords of The Calling’s “Wherever you will go”. Ack. They really went for the original, and as someone who’s always been ridiculously in love with that cheesy song, I AM HERE FOR IT.

Cormoran walking slow-mo past the bridesmaids, looking at Robin dancing with Matt The Twat. My heart…💔

When I’m gone you’ll need love to light the shadows on your face… *sniff*

Cormoran’s FACE during the dance. I can’t. He looks like a puppy about to get shot. 🥺

(and what a juxtaposition to the little lady with the funny hat bobbing happily next to him, to everyone looking awww and being completely ignorant of the drama that’s playing out. Ugh. I’m dead.)

Matthew moves like someone who’s (painstakingly) learned exactly one (1) dance, and for their wedding only, and why is he even smiling so proudly? They must’ve just had the biggest row in history? Is he really so full of himself?

Even Robin is smiling, although staring longingly at Strike. I bet they did that so Strike would be a little mad at her and want to walk away.

AND HE DOES! 😟 You can just see the “Fuck this” from the book crossing his face as he turns around and leaves. Ack. I’m dead again.

If I could then I would, I’ll go wherever you will go

(Perfectly placed, kudos) 👏🏼

And she runs after him, looking like a fairy-tale princess. Did you see how frigging COLD it must’ve been, judging by her breath?! Poor Holliday must have been freezing to death during the shoot. And then to pull off such a heartbreaking scene…

(Also, the lawn in the park? A shitload of rolled sods. No grass looks this lusciously green in winter, and you can see the edges everywhere. Some landscaper had a field day there!)

“Are you sure?” - “Yeah. I am.” About WHAT, you idiots?! *wrings hands* To her coming back to work, of course, but there’s so much more to their statements. And I’m sure that non-book-readers thought they were about to kiss and elope, but - alas! - we know that’s not going to happen.😔

But at least we get The Hug™️, and it’s everything we hoped for: Robin crying, digging her fingers into his jacket; Cormoran closing his eyes… God help us, we are all DOOMED sailing this ship! 🙈💔

I was a little miffed upon first watching that they faded out of that hug so quickly. That was it? No, it wasn’t, as we now know, and I love, love, love that we’re getting all these extended flashbacks that reveal more and more of what happened to us!

ONE BLOODY YEAR LATER (I still can’t get over that time jump)

Lol at the subcontractor crashing his moped into the cab! It was only briefly mentioned in the book, and turning it into an actual dialogue was a fun idea.😂

And there’s Denise (that IS her, right?), completely uninterested in doing her job. Good grief - Strike and Robin are BAD a picking employees! 🙈

Robin looking not-jealous-at-all at Strike walking off with Lorelei. Ouch.

I like Lorelei, btw. They chose the actress well, and she’s nice and mature. Which doesn’t mean that I’m not secretly flinching every time she kisses Cormoran. It’s just not right.

Billy. Joseph Quinn does an incredible job playing him. 👏🏼 As dangerous as he appears at first, his despair and his efforts at holding himself together are heartbreaking. That battle he wages against his mental illness is on full display, and his scared big eyes are killing me. 🥺

Cormoran is admirably unfazed by Billy’s appearance - is that his Army training kicking in? Robin, though, is shaking but braving it out, recording with her phone although her hands are trembling. Good acting by Holliday.

Good riddance, Denise.

The good ole’ pencil trick. “I didn’t know people still did this.” 😌

I was surprised that Cormoran chose to simply break into the house on Charlemont road. It’s breaking and entering for no good reason. Could’ve been anybody’s home.

He’s not going to- EWW! He’s sitting down on that filthy couch. And plucking hairs from it. EWW!🤢

Robin: “...and some porn.” 😂 Says it as if it’s what they always find. The usual. Men… 🙄

Who’s the guy taking pictures of Cormoran? I seriously don’t remember this from the b- Oh, WAIT! Reporter guy. Patterson. Yeah. Him.

The CORE members are as cliché in their looks as are Chiswell’s upper class folks. It’s all a bit on the nose for my taste, but then clichés are clichés for a reason.

Cormoran needs to work on his disguises. Not fitting in at all with the CORE crowd, age-wise or in his look. No wonder they don’t trust him. He does it better in the books.

Oh Robin. I actually think you need a lot more therapy to work through your shit.

Ah, here we go. Seaborn bacteria. But first, Matt’s got to be a prick again. 🙄

Chiswell with his arrogance and his rudeness and his finger-snapping. *shakes head* I think if Cormoran hadn’t known he could make some serious money with this case, he may have walked out on him.

Btw, the “large” jacket is making Strike look slimmer instead of bigger. 😄 They’re so desperately mentioning Strike’s largeness, as if beating it over our heads could actually make us not see barely-6-foot and slender Tom Burke.

“Couple more potatoes wouldn’t hurt.” And his FACE! 🥰

Glenister is a really good actor. I always listen to the Strike audiobooks that he narrates, and I was worried hearing his voice in the show would be confusing, but it’s not because he sounds so different. Can’t wait for him reading “Troubled Blood” to me! 🎧

Is it a coincidence that Drummond’s art gallery has a painting of a horse in its front window? I think not.

I love that soft blue shirt they put Cormoran in. Makes him look very huggable. *blushes*

“Not sure I would make a convincing goddaughter either.”😂

So in England you can just walk up to a minister’s house and ring the doorbell without any security people stopping you? Interesting.

Chiswell just shutting the door in Cormoran’s face. RUDE.😠

The brown contact lenses. 👀 Okay, they make her look different, but not THAT different. It’s her sudden posh accent that’s the real stunner.

The panic attacks. Holliday plays them so well, I almost feel like I can’t breathe myself. 😧

I was expecting the Houses of Parliament to look a little less like a stuffy basement full of old junk. *ducks*

Barclay! Definitely looking more attractive than his description in the book. And I thought I’d gotten food at understanding Scottish. I haven’t. *turns subtitles on*

Izzy is the only Chiswell offspring who doesn’t make me want to immediately vomit.

“Venetia. Like the blinds.” Oh God. 🙈

Winn is such a creep. 🤮 Poor Robin. GET AWAY FROM HER YOU LEECH!

Of course Matt doesn’t want Robin to wear the Green Dress. Twat.🙄

The house warming party. I always wonder why Robin doesn’t have friends of her own. I have a feeling Matt has something to do with that.

The earrings. So we will see Robin finding out Matt’s cheating on her! I can’t wait for her to rip him a new one! 😈

Robin calls Cormoran - and it��s not Coco but Lorelei who picks up. That’s a smart change from the book. And it makes her the rebound girl. Which she doesn’t deserve, but it is what it is.

“And she bakes.” 🥴 Is it just me wondering how Lorelei got that cake into the tin without ruining the icing?!

Flashback to The Hug™️. God, their faces are so close. Cormoran is so soft. Nnnnhhhggggg.

Enter the plaid shirt. Lumber!Cormoran is a good look on him! 😍

The Armchair of Sadness™️. Of course that’s where the devastating phone call to Robin’s house happens! The disbelief and disappointment on Cormoran’s face is heart rending. 😢💔

@lulacat3 and I have already established the continuity error with Cormoran’s facial injuries suddenly missing when he’s reached the pub. (And they should still be there; he’s still wearing the plaid shirt from that same evening.) If I were the makeup person I would have been deeply regretful of having missed dabbing fake injuries on Tom’s face again.

The Uffington Horse. Robin’s in appropriate Wellingtons, weather jacket and a beanie for their outing. Cormoran is wearing what he always wears, and Tom clearly wishes he had a beanie. At least he gets to wear a t-shirt under his eternally blue shirts this season. REVOLUTION! 😄

Sure. Let’s just go and dig for a corpse with a shovel so conveniently available! Just the two of them - one delicate Robin and one invalid. And then Robin finds the bones after ten seconds of digging. No further comment. 🙄

But I like the change with Cormoran’s leg. As stupidly heroic as he acted in the book, I like it better in the show where he has to acknowledge his handicap and Robin takes charge.

The bones. Dun-dun-DUN!

(Good first episode, although all in all the pacing wasn’t quite right yet, and compared to the book it all felt a bit rushed. I liked episode two better.)

#lethal white #cormoran strike #lw #lethal white episode 1 #cb strike #bbc strike #spoiler alert 🚨

55 notes · View notes

grimreich666 · 3 years

Text

So once again we are to this point when it comes to the Christina + Ruby server drama. Now I realize I made a YouTube video that explained my disgust of certain Fanfic Writers writing community of Lovecraft Country that write for the Ruby and Christina fandom that's ran by Kswhateverspace and Hernameisjaye. Now know it looks like I bullied somebody but that's far from the case, as every action has a reaction. Now because the situation I wasn't going to go too much into it until, someone told me about the twisted mess both Kwhateverspace and the other admins were saying. And it had come to alot of my members attention that they done stuff with members in the past and it has clearly made people unhappy to a point where they aren't talking in thier own server. When it comes to the Ruby plus Christina server owned by Kwhateverspace, I joined with decent intentions and it thought it was a community that shared a love for Christina and Ruby, but it turned out to be a Sixth-Grade Mean Girls Special on Crack. I never wanted it to get to a racial points between servers, but it is looking like these white women with a Misguided Black Woman as thier Server Owner, obviously do not know what true racism is and how to handle their power as Admins and accept others opinions. And the saddest part is that not just me but other members have been kicked out for absolutely no reason and I don't know if anybody seen Kswhateverspace Blog. But everything on there is just about a lie, she claims that all of us violated the rules but nobody was given any warning before being kicked out. Now mind you I do know that the rules exist but the rules should have been implemented for more extremer conditions, but none of us members took it to that level. The issue that I have with the other server is their ability not to gauge a situation at any kind of frequency of balance as they just kick off people who they don't like. A friend of mine who's in my Discord now got kicked for absolutely saying a joke it was nothing that was malicious or ill intent to these people, and while I get that respecting their mental health as Fan Fic writers is a thing to do, me and others always supported before we started reading racist ass Ruby and Chirstina fics. This friend of mine was enthusiastic about reading their stories and very supportive and we all kept a good positive energy that could be see in my current Discord. The issue that the Admins on the Christina + Ruby Server is that they made someone's enthusiasm for a story seem like it was an issue with harassment and that was not cool eespically when she meant it in a LOL kind of way. There was no reason for her to get kicked off just like there was no reason for my other friends to get kicked off and there was no reason for ME to get kicked off. I understand people were all into safe spaces and making safe spaces but as Admins they should've addressed thier complaints to people in warnings, but the kicked people for simply commenting. Thus making thier own server and its members uncomfortable to be themselves and thats when becomes a dangerous place and if I hadn't of known that I would've never ended my own server to expose my friends to their toxicity. The issue between the Admins is that pride themselves on being Admins, but the lack leadership skills and comprehension skills necessary for it. For me as an Admin if there was an issue with a person's comments I would talk to them in Dm's and warn them. So for them to say that they're not big on public warnings that is fine, but when you do not privately warn somebody for a simple comment and for them to get kicked the next day something isn't right. Also how can a behavior improve if there is no communication between an Admin and their members? Me as an Admin I dont function that way, I always take the time if someone comes to me with a complaint to address the person on DMs. And if you read Kwhateverspaces blog on the issue and the screenshots nothing she says parallels to the intent in which these comments where said.

The issue that I have with this group is there ability to flex around their power an act like we had did something so wrong when we were simply just expressing our opinions. And we were well within our respectable means to address our opinions in the saddest part is that these admins are white within a predominantly black server and they do not get our way of culture.

Now as for the next member who was kicked it was totally uncalled for as she questioned why I was gone due to the fact that I told Hernameisjaye to learn her Black History due to the fact that she and another member Agent Sheryl did not understand why I did not think Christina was racist I had a whole You Tube Video about it. So they knew my opinion on it and why they chose to double team me on an opinion was so uncalled for. So when I made the comment that I'm sorry if I dont want to be black and militant to a character that I dont find as racist she flipped out on me, and kicked me I never called her anything I told her the truth and if you've seen my YT people know I could've taken it alot further with these Birdbrain Hoes. Nevertheless until a certain point I thought we were having a decent civil discussion, yet she took it out of context very fast when I said what I did and as for the Black History factor you could see that they were giving no concern to it and only cherry picking my words to make me seem antagonistic to them, as I was telling them about the harm that white women had done in history vs Christina Braithwhite. Now mind you I had told Hernameisjaye several times that she is entitled to her opinion and I was entitled to mine and it's as you could see on the time stamps. At one point I thought it was a civil discussion, that was until I got kicked out for it. It's clear that these Admins have no commonsense to read a room and come to a basic agreement, even as I was telling them they have an opinion and I have mine and I respect it. And yes I was mad for the kick and I did warn Kswhateverspace that I would be going to my platform with it and she even gave her approval of it as I do have the screen shots for that as well.

Hernameisjaye along with Agent Sheryl had been going on a Christina is racist rant for two days, and both were very antagonistic to those in the Serious Discussions Discord Server, who engaged her. I even went so much so to agree with her just to shut her up, yet she kept on at agonizing me and another member to the point of harassment. It was clear that they had spoken about us, before as they were so ready to kick us AGAIN WITH OUT WARNING US PRIOR. Now I will be continuing the Dandybear situation on part two. However I find it messy that these Admins cherry picked our conversations that me and the other member thought where civil and tried to turn it into something uncivilized on our end. This is the same kind of intent that always happens when it comes to black and white people, it always happens that a white person says something out of line and then when black person gets mad then they act as if the black person had antagonized and started the situation. Hernameisjaye is really sad at this point to try a tactic like that, and it's detrimental that shes allowed racism into her group, but has dropped the people that meant her no harm with there opinions as FELLOW BLACK WOMEN.

The Admins Kwhateverspace and Hernameisjaye claim that they want freedom for people to express themselves, but they act like bullies when the situation is not to their favor. Yet it was after the fact that told a lie and still continue to tell one after another member and I were kicked, that made the situation worse. You can read the screenshots of my responses on Kwhateverspaces blog or this one qnd you can clearly see I did nothing in the wrong, as I was coming at Hernameisjaye as one black woman to another. And if she had talked to me in DMs and cleared things out maybe I would've apologized for the comment even if I personally thought I wasn't wrong for it, as I had no shame in my game to apologize even when I'm not wrong.

YET the point I cant stand the most is that they overreacted to a statement I made, and yet they allowed a racist fan fic writer to stay in group. It is clear these Admins don't have thier heads on straight as they kick us out for having a simple opinion or objection to common discussion. Now I do understand there is a level of what Admins can take and what they cannot take, but when you do not make those boundaries clear and when other members make their boundaries clear when your antagonizing them, and you still keep doing it theres something wrong with you as a leader. All I have to say is look at the screenshots and out responses to ours.

#ruby x christina #christina braithwhite #lovecraft country #ruby baptiste #abbey lee #ruby deserved better #wunmi mosaku #lovecraftcountryedit

14 notes · View notes

wonderlandleighleigh · 3 years

Text

Good morning!

I’ll never get over the end of Supernatural.

I just won’t.

And I’m gonna talk about it some more under the cut.

Buckle up. I’m back on my bullshit.

Here’s what’s jarring: The end of 15x18 felt so honest. I mean, we can make jokes about Jensen’s reaction shots and super mega hell or whatever, and we can be angry about Cas’s fate, too. That last one, at least, is a totally valid criticism.

But Ackles, Collins and Speight have all gone on record on that moment in the show, talking about the heart and honesty behind it (Speight and Collins on a virtual convention chat, Ackles in the instagram comments of a woman who worked in wardrobe on the show, though he was talking about the how as a whole). A lot of thought and care and work - and probably fights with the network - went into that one scene to make it land, and if you’ve been actually watching the show, it really does, especially if you take into account that you now get to rewatch the show with the knowledge that Castiel was in love with Dean, and that’s going to give a canonical, romantic context to his actions.

But when we hit 15x19 and 15x20, it...it feels like a completely different show.

Here’s what’s interesting about Supernatural: Since day one, the underlying heartbeat of the show has been this lowkey feeling of yearning. Of reaching out for something you know is just out of reach. And I don’t know if that was intentional, and I don’t know how they managed to keep that up for 15 years (I blame the cast), but for whatever reason, that feeling is entirely missing from the last two episodes.

That heartbeat just...isn’t there. And so when we watch the last two episodes, and very specifically, the last episode, it feels all wrong. It feels like we’re watching cardboard cutouts of these characters.

Dean’s million year death scene felt all wrong. Jensen acted the hell out of it, but it felt all wrong. The end montage felt all wrong. Even Heaven felt all wrong. It was all wrong, for a number of reasons.

1. The big one being that Supernatural is an action show. And the last episode had no action. The first 10 minutes of the episode is great as a set-up. Dean and Sam keep on keeping on. The dog, the laundry. All good.

But then we come to the pie conversation, and we find out that Sam and Dean...

Are not actively looking for a way to bring Cas back.

This is the one major plot thread left for the show to cover. Castiel has been taken by the Empty to fulfill his deal, and if there’s one thing we know for a fact about Supernatural, it’s that these dumb boys make deals and then do their damndest to save each others’ skins from the consequences of those deals.That’s been the through-line of the show sinse season 2/3.

So why is it dropped here?

Dean’s acceptance that his best friend - who just confessed that he was in love with Dean - is gone forever is deeply out of character.

2. And I’ve talked about this a lot: killing a character with a history of mental illness and suicidal ideations and calling it a reward is a bad look. I can’t stop thinking about it, and it makes me feel downright ill. It goes against all of the work the cast has done to raise money for mental health awareness and it’s just a dark, unhappy end for a character who saw 15 years of growth and acceptance. I will never be over Dean Winchester’s death. Ever.

3. Cas’s love confession is never mentioned again. This enormous, beautiful confession he gives Dean is just...forgotten. Dean never mentions it. He never tells Sam that it happen. We have no indication of how Dean feels about it at all, save for a little smirk he gives when Bobby mentions Cas helping Jack create Heaven.

We can read the smirk a number of ways. It could be a “yay Cas is safe” smirk or a “Yay I finally get to talk to him about how mad I am that he made that deal and also tell him I love him back” or a “Sweet I’m super gonna get laid” smirk.

But we’re given no real answers.

Which leads me to my final point:

4. The finale commits to nothing, and ignores everything we previously knew about the show. It gives no real answers or finality to anything other than Dean’s death, and then, eventually Sam’s. “Was that blurry woman Eileen?” You figure it out. “Did Dean ever see Cas again?” The world may never know. Jared went on record as saying that the finale takes place 5 years from 15x19 but that’s not confirmed because 15x20 makes no mention of a time jump. So maybe it was, but maybe it wasn’t? Why did we get this tiny shitty funeral for Dean when Sam could have called Jody and Donna and Bobby and Charlie and Claire etc. Even with COVID restrictions there would have been a way around showing the characters being there and us being TOLD that they WERE there. A call from Jody, saying she and Donna were on their way? A condolence call from Bobby? Rowena is the queen of hell, and she cared about Sam a lot. She couldn’t call to check in? As it is, Donna has law enforcement calling one of Dean’s phones for help because Sam told none of the people who also loved Dean that Dean had died. Which is totally out of character for Sam not to lean on friends, and also fucked up. What happened to Dean’s dog? Did Sam ever talk to any of the people in his hunter life ever again? If Jack had saved Castiel from the Empty, and it is, in fact, five years in the future, it is out of character for Castiel not to be watching the Winchesters from heaven. He would have seen Dean get mortally wounded, and it’s very out of character for him not to come down and save Dean with his Angel mojo.

So my big question is this: Why did we watch 15 years of this show only for one of them to die in a really ho-hum, out of character way, and the other to live an apple pie life he wasn’t even happy in?

I think about that a lot: That Dean’s ending, his death, we’re told, is a good death, and that he gets to rest and be happy in heaven. Which feels wrong.

And Sam lives the apple pie life, which we’re told is a good life and something he’s at peace with, which also feels wrong, and we’re SHOWN it’s wrong, because Sam isn’t happy.

In the end, we’re told that the only true happiness is in death. Which, for a show that spat in Death’s face - that literally KILLED multiple incarnations of death - makes absolutely no sense.

And it’s driving me crazy because I can’t justify anything that happens in this episode except for Dean hugging the dog, and Sam hitting Dean in the face with a piece of pie.

what the fuck.

#supernatural #spn #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Castiel #finale talk #could be spngate I guess #Jack Kline #I'm never gonna get over it

16 notes · View notes

taerseok · 4 years

Text

↬ pairing:. badboy!Jungkook × childhoodfriend!Reader

↬ synopsis:. ❝ Nevermind, I’ll find someone like you. I wish nothing but the best for you too. Don’t forget me, I beg. I remember you said; ‘sometimes it lasts in love. But sometimes it hurts instead.’ ❞

Or, alternatively:

↬ synopsis:. ❝ you and a handsome prince from a neighbouring kingdom team up to spin the worst fairytale the lands have ever laid their eyes upon. ❞

↬ word count:. 15.5k

↬ genre(s):. modern royalty!au, fake dating/fake marriage!au, childhood friends!au, angst, fluff, attempted humour

↬ rating:. pg-15

↬ warning(s):. cheating, suicide, language, alcohol, comatose, mental illness, disturbing scenes, rebounds, e.t.c.

↬ playlist:. play here!

▪ note:. this is a part of the royalty!au collab with my good friend, Addison @aesthetical-witch and I was very inspired by Tae’s cover of someone like you to make this!

CREDITS:

• Thank you soo much to Maggie @kimtaehyunq (requested from the BHQ Request Board) for the wonderful header!

• Thank you to my good friends Ruby @rubinora and Addi @aesthetical-witch for helping me edit and providing me with feedback!

Putting your phone next to you, you sigh and turn to lay on your stomach, your cheek against the soft mattress below you. You had just seen an exhausting text message from someone you did not want to meet right now. You’d be lying if you said Jungkook didn’t still get on your nerves for something stupid he did the last time you had a ‘get-together’. The boy, who you were friends with since you both came from a royal background and your kingdoms were basically next to each other, had drunk your last carton of banana milk.

Naturally, you both had taken a liking to the same drink, and as of currently, most of your ‘wars’ were a result of taking each other’s things and of course, drinking each other’s banana milk. Yes, it is quite idiotic to lose your shit over someone else drinking your milk, but you had every right to be mad at him and more.

In the text that he had sent you just a few minutes ago, he asked if you could meet him in your castle’s garden in a few minutes. You were feeling lazy as always, sitting in your bed, doing nothing, but you could not help but snicker that the guy had the audacity to ask you that when he took your banana milk. In fact, you believe he should be treating you, not asking you for any more favours than he already has. What would poor Jungkook do without you, you shake your head.

Getting up, you take off towards the gardens of your castle. Oh, and it wasn’t much of a castle in your opinion. It did lack some of the things a normal castle would have, like large towers. But you did consider it a mansion. Most called it a castle though, mostly because royal matters were handled here. Or so you thought, anyway, you shrug. You didn’t waste your time and as soon as you got out of your room, you rush down the halls, down the stairs, and through the large doors.

“Now where is he?” you frown. The garden was larger than one could imagine. In front of the gate to the inside of the ‘castle,’ your mother had decided to have a fountain built, and to the right and left, green, lush grass spread over quite a large chunk of land. You opted to go for the more secretive places. The boy must have driven off without his parents’ knowledge and decided to come here, and as far as you knew, if anyone would have seen him, you would have been informed.

You looked around, running in the gardens and squinting your eyes at every shadow you saw, then sighing because none of them belonged to Jungkook — they were mostly trees, occasionally some maid working here or there. But you did find the male soon enough. He was hiding at a corner of the garden where bushes surrounded almost every point. If you didn’t know Jungkook good enough, you would have guessed he was smart.

You run up to him, making sure no one saw you since that would likely be bad news. Whatever it had to be, Jungkook didn’t call you here for something good because it wouldn’t have to be this secretive. “Right,” you catch your breath, panting. “You better tell me something worth it because I feel like I just ran a marathon.” Running around your garden wasn’t easy, in your opinion. It took great will, certainly. “So I was right when I said that you’re just a pillow princess.“

You glare at Jungkook, brows furrowed. You had a bad history with him, you won’t lie. Yeah, he appeared to be quite handsome and even charming. Many girls would swoon over his gorgeous hair, his pretty face and his adorable dimples, and you wouldn’t even be surprised if he was ripped as hell. Being royalty and crown prince was just an added bonus, to be honest. But he was a brat with one big ego, and you knew that fact like the back of your hand.

The way he teased you made blood simmer in your veins. It made you go crazy. You felt beyond helpless when that happened. And you reminded yourself over and over again not to compliment him or his ego would only inflate more. And you considered that wasn’t healthy for him, even though he really did look good.

“Shut up and tell me what you want.” Maybe it was the fact that he spoke something really true and maybe you were a pillow princess so you wouldn’t even deny it, but it still offended you nonetheless. The nickname had been given to you when he had came over once and your mother had mentioned how you never leave your bed. Your mother really knew how to throw you under the bus, didn’t she? He chuckles, then begins to speak. “I have a request for you,” he says. You stop him right there, raising your hand in the air, gesturing him to kindly shut up. You were so done. “For fuck’s sake, Jeon Jungkook. I am not about to go through hell again just for you. Don’t you think you should act a little more independent, maybe? Maybe treat me to dinner first? I am not a 24/7 helper,” you frown, crossing your arms.

“Who taught you to curse?” oh. You might have gotten a little too angry. But who could’ve blamed you? Jungkook wasn’t your responsibility. You didn’t have to help him and you wouldn’t this time. You just had to make it clear and may have gone a little too far. You had tried to stop yourself from cursing in front of him so you’d keep your status, but of course, that didn’t mean that you didn’t actually curse.

“I am an independent adult. I can curse. Meanwhile…” you sigh, “you aren’t. You constantly need help from me. You’re crown prince, Jungkook! You’re supposed to be a little more mature than this.” He didn’t take any time to retort back. “Look who’s speaking. You’re not mature at all,” he says, and though his voice reflected anger, his expression remained calm.

“We’re not talking of me here! You’re the one who came here with a request!” you exclaim, turning your back to Jungkook. You had enough of helping Jungkook over and over, you were so tired of picking the pieces of his life back up and putting it together. He had to understand that you had a life too. You had your own problems to take care of. Any time he messed up, he’d have to come to you for help.

Like that one time, when he and some of his friends got drunk and you had to help them clean up even though none of it was your fault. And that one time when he had driven a little too fast when you were over at his ‘castle’ and then he crashed into that one shop in town. And to top off the humiliation, since he was too much of a pretty boy to own up to his mistake, you had to hold a conference to explain the situation to the media and paparazzi. Of all the people, you.

It was getting ridiculous at this point and your head wouldn’t wrap around it. You knew he was irresponsible and maybe even careless, but still! He was going to become the next king and the kingdom depended on him. The future of his subjects depended on him. How could he risk being so careless?

“I’m leaving if you have nothing better to say,” you sigh and take a step to leave, but he catches your wrist, pulling you back. You groan. “Jungkook, I’m a person with my own problems. I can’t always be helping you,” you turn around to look in his eyes. You could see stars in them if you gazed deeper.

“I get it. But I trust you enough to let you know that mother is planning an arranged marriage for me,” your brows furrow at his statement. “What… do you—?”

“But I’m dating someone already.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You take a moment to let yourself digest the new information. He was dating someone?

Okay, you two were close but never tried to get into each other’s love lives, and in addition, the man in front of you didn’t look innocent whatsoever, so he must’ve at least dated someone. But for him to tell you like this, it hurt a little.

It reminds you of how you were growing up and leaving your childhoods behind. You two had known each other for quite a long time and gotten so comfortable with one another. But to think that someday, you’ll be standing beside a man and him beside some woman of his liking, and the fact that, that one day was coming very soon — it hurt. It hurt to lose your friend over some stupid thing like marriage.

“But she’s a commoner. You know mother is strict about that stuff and…” he bit his pink lip, “I need you to buy me some time.” You raise a brow, and his hand finds yours. He looks at you, his eyes searching for confirmation. “You need me to buy you time? How?” you frown, your feelings conflicted. You wanted to help, this was some dire situation and if he got married to someone he didn’t love, then… it wasn’t worth it.

At the same time, this proved to be very hard. His mother, though a fun one similar to yours, was stern when it came to relationships. Her trust was especially hard to earn. But she did grow affectionate towards you since you had been with Jungkook since you were little.

“I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend and slow things down a bit.“

You look at the man in disbelief, motionless. Did you hear correct? Yes, maybe your mother teased you about being married to Jungkook for some while now, and maybe it did sound reasonable, but why of all people, did he want you? Multiple girls were dying to be his girlfriend already, should he not give them a chance?

“But why me?” you finally ask, looking at him with mixed feelings. “You’re the only princess my family knows and trusts. It wouldn’t be weird if I was dating you at all.” You roll your eyes at the last statement. “Jungkook, it would be weird if I was dating you,” you correct him. “Well, to you, yeah, but I don’t consider it impossible,” he grins. You pull your hand away from his, punching his arm.

“You’re dating someone already, you idiot!” you exclaim, frowning. He chuckles. “I’m not cheating on her. I already told her, and she’s not on the best terms with it, but she agrees,” he says. “So you can date me.” You huff at his arrogance, crossing your arms. “You know this is trouble, right?” you furrow your brows. “Yeah, and I’m up for it. So are you up for it?” you roll your eyes at his reply.

"I think you just want a chance at fucking me if I’m to be completely honest with you.“

“I like your honest side.“

“You’re in a relationship!“

“With you, yeah.“

“Oh my God…” you sigh. You wondered who would date such an idiot. Then again, he is really handsome. Maybe you should be grateful for the opportunity.

———

You didn’t know when you agreed for it, but you just did and now you are dating Jeon Jungkook. You decided to tell your family about it that night at dinner, after discussing the details with Jungkook. Hyun-ae, who is his girlfriend as of currently, was a commoner he had met at an expensive club he had gone to.

She had garnered his interest and the two began dating in secret. They have been now dating for two years, though in private. Neither of them have shown any sign of getting the relationship to a different level, and they both need some time to relax and think of ways to finally bring the truth into the light without any prejudice taking place.

That is where you come in. You will pretend to be Jungkook’s girlfriend so his mother can stop finding suitors and give him some air to breathe, simultaneously giving him time to think of a plan. You will need to slow down the process as much as you can, making excuses to make sure that the wedding day does not approach. Because in the end, it’s not you who is going to get married to Jungkook. It’s Hyun-ae.

Or that’s what he told you about the plan.

It was wrong on many levels, and if you weren’t as dear to your families as you were, you both would receive great punishment for it — maybe even death. But it wasn’t going to go that far. It would be done in a few months at most. Or that’s what you told yourself, anyway.

Taking a seat at the dinner table, you smiled at your mother and father, and then looked towards your cheeky older brother, Seokjin. You liked to call him Jin for short. He is likely going to go ecstatic over the fact that you were dating someone and you didn’t tell him, and going to go absolutely feral when he hears that it is actually Jungkook who you are “dating”. He was quite the overprotective brother. You turn to your father, taking a deep breath, you begin to speak.

“I wanted to… talk about something important to me,” you try sounding like you are authentic, and you seem to be failing badly, but you keep on going, mustering up all the strength. You forget even eating your food for a while, instead, turning to look at your three family members one by one.

"I am dating someone… with whom I want to take my relationship to the next level.“ You were inexperienced and stupid for doing all of this. Multiple times you thought of backing out, but this was for Jungkook. You felt bad seeing how far you were going for him but he never even returned it. Or sometimes he did. But this was a big favor you were being asked. Your mother and father look at you with wide eyes, though Jin continues to eat, making sure to look up at you once in a while — making sure you know he’s listening too.

“I’m very sorry I didn’t mention him before,” you look at all of them one by one, “but I am in a serious relationship,” it hurt to lie to everyone like this. What fool would fall for your dramatic acting? Who knew… but you certainly had all of their attention now.

“Who is it…?” your mother asks very quietly, at least they weren’t objecting to it. You sigh heavily.

“Jungkook.“

Their expressions were something you couldn’t analyse. They were thoroughly surprised, yes, and at the same time, another emotion you couldn’t quite grasp — approval? You couldn’t put your finger on it, but maybe that was it. Jin stops eating to look at you instead.

”Jeon Jungkook? That one Jungkook you’re friends with?” you feel bad for playing like this, but what was done was done and you were doing this for Jungkook. “Which other Jungkook would I know?” you don’t know how exactly to react so you smile lightly at Jin, then look back towards your parents, who are still staring at you. “So… Jungkook recently told me that his mother is picking a girl for him…” you bite your bottom lip, “but she doesn’t know about us and—” you begin to speak, but your mother cuts you off.

“I’ll talk with her.” And what you don’t expect is the smile that’s on her face. Did you really just fool them like that? They believed you so easily. Was it this easy to lie? It left you with chills.

“In fact, you and your mother can leave for their kingdom in the morning. Make sure to tell Jungkook about it,” your father spoke up. Everything seemed to be going to plan. Jungkook did say he wanted you to visit the castle and that he’d tell his parents all of this too. So you supposed your job was done. But to think that you were fake-marrying your childhood friend, it all felt so wrong.

“I will…” you respond quietly and continue to eat dinner as nothing had transpired. You felt so bad for doing all of this. Seeing the smiles on your parents’ faces, the laughter of Jin — they didn’t think it was weird at all for you to marry Jungkook. So he was right. Maybe people could see you and Jungkook together. Childhood sweethearts, mayhaps? You still didn’t know how.

As soon as you finish dinner, you turn to leave to your room and tell Jungkook about everything.

[Y/N]: I told everyone. We’re coming tomorrow.

Your kingdoms were right next to each other. It was very easy to reach to his by car. Yes, it would take some hours but you considered travel fun. And you’d probably fall asleep in the car anyway. You thought about packing your things and decided to do that while you waited for Jungkook’s message.

You were done pretty quickly, you didn’t need to pack much. Some clothes here and there, and some other things you thought you’d need. You didn’t know how long you were staying there for, but if anything was needed, you know they could provide it for you at his place. You sank down on the bed and picked up your phone, which lit up while you were closing your bag. He was calling you.

“What is it now?” you ask, a little annoyed as you put the phone to your ears. “Are you mad because you have to actually work now, pillow princess?” you could practically hear him grinning. It wasn’t very nice. “Be grateful. I’m helping you. No one could do this,” you roll your eyes. He chuckles lightly, changing the topic. “How did your parents believe it though? You’re such a bad actor,” he queried. “Well, I’m not as bad as you think. Somehow. I did make them believe it.“

“Jungkook, you know this is trouble. What if they find out…? What if we get into trouble?” you frown, but he doesn’t seem to think of it in that way. You aren’t surprised. “It’s fine! Lighten up, pillow princess.” You huff, feeling anxious about the situation. Your mother and father — even Jin. They would all be so disappointed in you. You helped Jungkook marry a commoner.

“That’s because you get something good from this if it works out! You get to be with the love of your life while I get scarred forever,” you say hotly before your voice turns meek. You won’t be able to sleep tonight, thinking of all of this and freaking out over it. And Jungkook knows that fact too, knowing you well enough to pick up on it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that.” Of course, he didn’t.

“Because you’re a self-obsessed bloke,” you reply dryly. He snickers a little, making you smile ever so lightly. “I guess I am. We’re in this together, Y/N. I never want you to be alone.” It was moments like these when you questioned why Jungkook made your heart skip a beat. Or why he even said things like these. Maybe he knew his words mattered a little more to you than you let on. Or perhaps he simply wanted to pull at your heart.

“Yeah, right,” you say quietly, “tell that to me when you get married to Hyun-ae and I still don’t get a boyfriend,” you smile despite your words, wanting to relive these moments when you grew older.

Time just passed so quickly. You never noticed when you became a teen, and then an adult, and now you’re supposed to get married soon — well, not really. You’re just faking it. But still, the actual day isn’t that far either. You’ll find someone soon enough. Or so you hoped.

“Anyway… I better get my beauty sleep now,” you hear him laugh into the phone. “What’s so funny with that?” you frown. “It’s nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Good night.” You smile.

“Okay… Goodnight.“

“Yeah, goodnight.“

“Mhm, goodnight.“

“Goodnight.“

"God, just hang up already!” you exclaim, making him shout even louder. “You hang up!” that one hurt your ears badly. You groan. “Fine!” giving up, you end the call. Jungkook was the most annoying human being you had come across, but that didn’t mean you didn’t care for your friendship.

He was just a tease and a knuckle-head sometimes. Though you appreciated him for exactly that — being stupid. After getting ready for bed, you try to calm down your nerves and prepare yourself mentally for pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend. The words tasted bitter on your tongue.

It didn’t feel right to pretend like this, but you couldn’t do much than just following Jungkook and praying that everything will go well to a God you didn’t believe in.

Closing your eyes, you began wishing for a better tomorrow.

———

You didn’t even notice how you got into the car next day to drive away to Jungkook’s, but you simply guessed you did, and the next thing you knew was that you were approaching the borders of the ruled land. It was beautiful, just as thriving and prosperous as the last time you had seen it.

From the window of the limousine, you could see the merchants and traders, the millions of shops that lined the roads. Even the townspeople were friendly, you had known since they were always very sincere and understanding of Jungkook’s mistakes.

The residential area was your favourite. You loved seeing their green gardens even though they were very small in comparison to the one you knew. The colourful roofs of the houses always brought a smile on your face. The rule was well-established under Jungkook’s parents, and you just hoped he could continue it. You had high hopes for him.

The car steadily made its way to the castle, prior to stopping a little way before it. You got out of the car alongside your mother, slightly nervous. You had almost forgotten what you were here for. Some guards made sure of your identities before they escorted you to the door and took your luggage inside, while Jungkook, his younger brother, Junghyun and his parents were standing in the foyer.

Your father hadn’t come, for he had some important businesses to take care of. You didn’t think ruling was easy, so he was justified. Jin stayed behind too, accompanying your father like the crown prince he is and learning the art of kingship.

Meanwhile, you were agreeing to be fake-married to your childhood friend. You sigh, then help yourself to a plastered smile as you approach the family. You and your mother curtsy and you let your mother do the talking. You weren’t here to embarrass yourself, that’s for sure. You look towards Junghyun and Jungkook, who are both looking towards you. You give them a light smile, but your eyes just seem to be moving back to Jungkook. You do hope what you’re doing is right.

“Ah, Y/N, why don’t you and the boys talk for a bit while we do too?” Jungkook’s mother addresses, making you nod furiously. You are guided inside by the two brothers while your mother and their parents walk towards the living room. It dawns over you that you’re supposed to act like a couple since Junghyun is here and even he doesn’t know of the truth, so your hand just finds Jungkook’s.

Holding your hand, Jungkook leads you towards his bedroom gently. Junghyun follows alongside you, apparently just as fooled as his parents, talking of all the memories you three had made. He wasn’t wrong; certainly, you had spent your childhood with Jungkook and Junghyun. Junghyun wasn’t much younger than Jungkook, but a difference of some years still remained, though most went unnoticed, seeing as Jungkook was just so unexplainably youthful.

“Or that one time when Jungkook stole your chocolate and you started crying?” Junghyun chuckles, but you need not be reminded of the moments you had cried. All for some chocolate and all because of a bratty Jeon Jungkook. You roll your eyes.

“Please~! I don’t want to remember that. I cried for this jerk—” you catch yourself just in time before you say something else. Junghyun looks at you, a bit startled. But before you say something to justify yourself, he simply laughs again.

“It’s good to see that you haven’t lost your fun relationship with him. You’ve just made it stronger.” You nod wearily at his words, smiling while your heart wrenches at seeing the world be fooled. “Tell me, how did you fall in love with my dimwit of a brother? He really is lucky to have you—"

"That’s enough, isn’t it, Junghyun?” for the first time in a while, Jungkook spoke up in the conversation. “But I do want to know!” Junghyun frowns.

You laugh at his adorable expression. When you were near a cute Junghyun, you doubted anyone could ever reject his request. You begin to speak, even though you held no particular feelings towards Jungkook himself in that way. “I’ll tell you,” you smile, “your brother,” you hold onto his hand a little tighter while you think.

“Your brother is a softie. Even though he looks like the type of person to fight you if you wake him up when he doesn’t want to be.” Junghyun chuckles lightly at your words. “Is he? He’s never that way towards me,” you felt how Jungkook’s fingers intertwined with yours. Was it a signal to stop, or maybe keep going? Or did you really say something true? You didn’t pick up on that one.

“He is,” you reply with a quick smile, before Jungkook stops in his tracks, making you stop too. “We’re here,” the male speaks and then turns around to Junghyun. “Your job is done. Thank you for accompanying Y/N. I’ll be taking her now,” the grin on Jungkook’s face did tug at your heart, you weren’t going to lie. Junghyun did protest like a little child, but he left soon enough.

By that time, you were sitting on Jungkook’s bed, waiting for Jungkook to close the door so you could talk to him about the whole situation.

“You okay?” he asks, coming to sit down next to you after closing the door. “I’m fine. Just…” maybe it was for the fact that you were pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend. Maybe that’s why you flinched whenever he came close to you, maybe that’s why you felt so different being in his room, despite being here countless times before.

“I’m just tired. There’s no good ending to this, Jungkook… I’m tired,” you look towards him, suddenly tears flood your eyes. You don’t know why you are suddenly on the verge of crying. Maybe it’s because you were pretending?

“I see those happy expressions on my parents’ faces… they don’t fake it, Jungkook,” his expression softens at your words. A little part of you knew that your tears were Jungkook’s weakness. Whenever you didn’t feel good, he’d get incredibly worried. You didn’t cry as much in front of him anymore, but you hoped that he didn’t change. That he still cared for you, even if a little bit. That’s what you hated about growing up, you would have other people in your heart, and Jungkook would have others. You wouldn’t care as much for each other anymore. And that fact scared you.

Seeing you act so small, Jungkook couldn’t believe his eyes. He puts your head against his chest, hugging you side-ways. He didn’t know you were so pressured by his request. It wasn’t something small and he wouldn’t trust anyone but you with it. He did care a lot for you. And he wanted you to know that, even if he acted like an imprudent, idiotic friend sometimes. He had asked a little too much of you and he was coming to understand that. But the damage had been done.

How could he reverse the action? There was no way. You were stuck with him till he revealed the truth, and the mere thought of you crying hurt him. It was painful to see you cry, even for an over-confident, cold person like Jungkook. He had made you cry, just because he was too scared to tell his family the truth, and he was scared he might not be accepted for dating someone that wasn’t of a noble or royal family.

He would try to tell the truth very soon, he promised to you mentally. He would do anything, to tell the truth when the right time comes. He just hoped you were willing to wait for that long.

“Shh,” he hushes, running his hand through your hair in gentle strokes. You smiled a little. At least you had someone. It was better than being alone. “I know that. I know and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry for asking you something like this. Hyun-ae and I just weren’t ready. And what I did makes me look like a complete idiot, so I’m very sorry for being so inconsiderate towards you. I really… appreciate that you’re going this far for me."

Your efforts, at least, were recognised. That is what made it all the better. The door was being knocked on.

While you made sure your make-up was intact, Jungkook opens the door. It’s Junghyun’s voice from what you can hear. "Fine,” Jungkook says, closing the door and turning to you. You raise a brow, wondering what��s the problem now. “Mother wants us to talk to the media and announce our marriage. They agree with it."

The way he spoke the words made your cheeks taint with pink. You weren’t expecting it to be so soon, but your families knew each other very well, so it was no surprise. You were really going to fool the world now. It was happening, and the nerves instantly came back from last night.

Taking a deep breath as you fixed the last of your make-up and took a final look in the mirror after your breakdown, you turn towards Jungkook.

"Okay. Let’s go.”

By the time you were standing in front of the crowd of reporters and paparazzi, your nerves had taken complete control of you.

Jungkook’s and your mother explained the situation to the media while you stood a little to the side, your hand in Jungkook’s. He said it would emphasise the relationship, but you weren’t very sure of that. You just wished he knew the risks.

“When are you planning to hold the wedding?” one reporter asks, his voice ringed out the loudest. Sometimes, when they thought you weren’t looking, the paparazzi would take a picture of your intertwined hand with Jungkook. Everyone’s eyes turn expectantly at his mother at the question.

“I’m scared,” you whisper to Jungkook, hoping he hears.

It wasn’t like voicing out your emotions rid you of the situation, but it did make you feel better when Jungkook squeezed your hand. “It’s okay… calm down.” Jungkook’s mother thought quietly for a moment.

“The wedding date hasn’t been decided as of yet, but it will take place as soon as possible — it depends on the preparations. But I’d say very soon.” You didn’t know what very soon meant, but you doubt it was good for the plan.

“Could we have a picture of the couple?”

Your cheeks turn pink at the word, flustering you. Maybe you’d never get used to this till it ends.

You did find the idea of having a partner nice, but Jungkook as that partner? You had never thought about him that way. But then again, you guess it wasn’t that impossible to think of your relationship accelerating. The way he genuinely laughs, the smile on his dimpled face, the fact that he does care for you — it all ignited this small fire inside you. Maybe being his partner wasn’t that far off.

Jungkook’s mother nodded to the question, and all the cameras had turned towards you and Jungkook before you knew it. “Are we going to pose or—?” you ask hastily, making him look to you with a light smile. For the first time, you hope that the smile meant something more than just a mask.

Putting his arm around your waist, his lips catch yours unexpectedly. For the sake of the plan, you close your eyes and try not to act surprised, but you didn’t deny the fact that your heart was racing. His soft lips, and the way he smiles ever so sweetly while kissing you, it all starts to become so precious to you. You were wrong when you thought about who’d want to be his girlfriend — who wouldn’t want to be his girlfriend?

The kiss, gentle and at the same time, passionate, lasted longer than you had expected it to. Probably because there were a lot of cameras and he wanted to make sure they all got a picture. You didn’t mind it at all though. Dare you say it, you loved it. It was like a little taste of something you had never tasted before. It left you wanting more, even if it was only a little bit you’d receive. But you were going to hold a grudge against him and yourself for this one. He had a girlfriend, already, for God’s sake.

“Do tell us what it is you love about princess Y/N?"

The question must have caught both of you out of the blue, because you turn to each other at the same time. Everyone turns to you two, and in the heat of the moment, Jungkook decides to speak up. "I love Y/N. We’ve had so many memories together. Spent our whole lives next to each other, basically,” you had been freaking out on the inside till he had started speaking. Thankfully, no one seemed to get that from the plastered smile on your face.

“I love us. I love how she is so caring and helpful. She might be a bit annoying at times,” you elbow him, “but I love that side of her too. She’s the most precious to me.” You couldn’t help but take the words to heart. Now you desperately wanted to hear “I love Y/N” from his lips over and over again — but that would never happen. You were just getting your hopes up, and Jungkook was practically begging you to do that.

“What do you think about the crown prince?"

You start to fluster, trying to think of words. Why did they have to know all of this? You were going to make sure that on your real wedding announcement, these questions would be banned — why did it hurt when you labelled this relationship as fake? You were only taking this logically. The heart was naive.

"I think that Jungkook is great.” You try to come up with more, turning quiet. Jungkook’s hand finds yours again, intertwining once more. But why did it matter so much now? “He’s funny and energetic. He helps me loosen up. I…” you bite your lower lip, not able to say what you thought of. If you said “I love him,” would it stand out to him like it stood out to you?

“He’s the… most amazing person and I couldn’t ask for anyone better."

———

You slump down on the bed on your stomach as you reach Jungkook’s room after the horrible announcement, him following behind you. "You’re that tired, pillow princess?” you hear him say, and even if you can’t look at his face, you’re so sure he has that grin on his face like always.

You groan, turning to lay on your back. “I’m not tired. Do you know how horrible it went?"

"It went perfectly. Everyone thinks we’re dating. Now what you need to do,” he says as he leans down on the bed alongside you, “is to keep it going. Mother is really keen on having me take over the throne this year. Which, I suppose you know the rules, but you have to have a queen for that. Hence the rushed wedding. She says the engagement isn’t very important."

"But it is—” you cut in, though Jungkook doesn’t acknowledge the sudden interruption. “I agree with her. Do you want us to be legally bound before the wedding? Did you forget the actual plan?” you sigh. He was right. In the end, it wasn’t you who was going to get married to him. It was Hyun-ae.

“Right. You’re right. Why did you need this time anyway?” you ask, turning to Jungkook. You had totally forgotten about the kiss, but now remembering it, you couldn’t just pretend that it didn’t happen.

You were going to ask him about that too. “Hyun-ae needs to talk with her family about everything. I have to, too. I don’t know how to approach them right now… you know?” he answers calmly. “I almost feel like I’m being used."

Jungkook looks at you, then sighs. He pulls himself up to look over you. You feel a little exposed, but if this plan were to go smoothly, you had to be a good sport about it and help Jungkook. Even though he didn’t do anything back for you. If not for Jungkook himself, then for the bond you shared. It had to go this way.

"I’m sorry again.” The simple apology made you feel a little sad. “Not that I mind being used,” you laugh, sitting up. You realise how weird it sounds and shrug a little. “I mean… it’s good to be of use, right…? Help your friends?” you smile lightly at him, making him shake his head. “You’re too nice for your own good,” he says quietly, making you giggle. “That’s the first time I’ve heard it from you. Glad to know my efforts actually matter!"

"Your efforts do matter. Yes, maybe sometimes, I’m ignorant of the fact that you’ve saved my ass countless times, but I appreciate you. Please know that,” he smiles a little your way, making you smile back. Your thoughts wander back to the kiss, which still makes your heart race. Maybe it’s because you have never kissed Jungkook. Whatever the reason, your mind couldn’t wrap itself around the way his lips felt on yours.

A little part of you wanted to experience that feeling again, but that was wrong and you weren’t asking a taken man to kiss you. That was stupid, not to mention, awkward.

“So the kiss… Jungkook,” you can see how he tenses up at you bringing up the topic. It worries you. “You have a girlfriend."

"I know.”

“But you still kissed me."

"I know.”

“Why?” you ask bleakly, looking at him and hoping to receive the same back, but he doesn’t turn towards you. The air just gets a little chilly. It makes you nervous. “I had to make them believe us. Hyun-ae will understand. I know you hated it. I’m very sorry for that too,” you shake your head at his words. Choosing to ignore that he said you hated the kiss, you sigh.

“It’s fine. But you should check up with Hyun-ae. She’d feel very bad if you didn’t approach her about this."

You’d feel bad if you saw in the news that your boyfriend had kissed someone else and they were going to get married soon — even though it was fake and you knew. You’d still want your boyfriend to tell you about it, reassure the fact he still loved you. Hyun-ae was the victim in this situation, not you — having seen her boyfriend kissing someone she didn’t know all over the place, hearing it from everyone in town, yet still being able to do nothing about it, because she was not in the position to. You felt bad for her.

"You’re right… I’ll call her,” Jungkook gets up, taking his phone and leaving the room.

It felt a little empty without him, especially as it was his room. You had been here multiple times, but maybe it was his presence you wanted most. You shake your head. If you pretend to fall for Jungkook, maybe it will happen. And you didn’t want to fall for someone you couldn’t have.

Someone, who is so dear to you. It would just put both of you in trouble. And you wanted him to be married to someone he loved — that someone wasn’t you and you had to accept it.

———

Before you knew it, it was dinner time.

Jungkook had talked with Hyun-ae, and initially, she had been a little angry, but thankful that Jungkook had talked it out with her, so things were settled soon enough. Or that’s what you were told, anyway.

You sat down at the royal table to eat. It was a little larger than yours back at home, but nonetheless, the food looked delicious and you couldn’t wait to dig in. Midway through the dinner, Jungkook’s father spoke up.

“I believe that it would be good if you two spent more time looking around the kingdom together. Jungkook could show you the famous sites,” his father turns to you, and you give him a slight nod with a smile. Wonderful — more time to spend with the annoying Jeon Jungkook. You turn towards the said boy, who seems to be eating his dinner quietly. Very unlike himself.

“That works… and about the rooms,” you say, starting to play with your food out of nervousness. “Where will I sleep?” you ask quietly, though everyone seems to hear it loud and clear. Jungkook turns to you instantly, and you could see the worry in his eyes. Worry for what, you did not know. “Room? Won’t you sleep in Jungkook’s room?” his mother speaks, making you bite your tongue. You shouldn’t have said that. But you didn’t want to share the room with Jungkook. That would be awkward.

“I was thinking of that, I just—” you bite your bottom lip, then shake your head. There was no explaining it. If you didn’t shut up now then everyone would catch on. “It’s fine, I’ll share the room with Jungkook,” and you supposed the bed, but you hoped it wouldn’t be the case. “Anywho, when are we going to visit the sites?” you change the topic abruptly, mustering a smile.

You did not dare to look at Jungkook.

After dinner, you opted to spend time in Jungkook’s room. Clearing your head, you stood at the balcony near the railing. Jungkook’s father had decided that you’d be going to visit the famous sites tomorrow. It was certainly going to be interesting, seeing as Jungkook showed no liking to things like that. He’d probably take you to a fun ride instead. Or so you hoped, because you had no interest in seeing famous sites and learning their names either.

Sometimes you and Jungkook were two peas in a pod, and sometimes he felt like your polar opposite.

Everything was so hard to digest. Why were you agreeing to his plans, you didn’t even know the full tale. In the end, you knew it would give nothing but pain. So why did you agree?

You thought it was because you were trying to be a good friend. You had known Jungkook for so long. You appreciated whatever you had with him, and you supposed that was why. You wanted him to marry his love. And at the same time, losing him to Hyun-ae felt like hell.

Ultimately, that was his happiness. So you wanted him to marry the love of his life. The thought brought a smile to your face. But still, your heart wrenched. It was melancholic — you loved the thought of it, but you couldn’t see him getting married. Because that meant you were growing up. You wouldn’t be around each other anymore. Responsibilities would be burdening you. And in the end, the ties would be cut.

Well, not cut. They’d fade away. Time took everything from you. From everyone. But especially from you. You didn’t want to lose your friend to something as idiotic as marriage. You were surprised initially that he was even settling down — Jeon Jungkook was settling down for someone. Out of all the things you expected, that wasn’t one of them. He must really love her.

You wished you could experience that kind of feeling. Unconditional, pure love for someone. Wanting to be with them so bad. But whenever you thought about that, you’d just feel lost. There was no one you felt something like that for.

"What are you thinking of?“ Jungkook’s voice rings in your ear, making your thoughts disappear. "Just the… whole thing. About you marrying Hyun-ae,” you wonder if it came out wrong. If Jungkook would be mad at you for putting it that way. If he was offended. But he wasn’t. Instead, he approached you quietly, now standing alongside you.

“What do you mean?” you sigh at his question. ��I meant… This is stupid,” you groan, unable to put your thoughts into words. “What I mean is… I don’t want to lose my friend. I am scared that… when you’ll get married… you’ll leave me. And seeing how things are going, I don’t think our kingdoms will be friends for much longer. We’re fooling everyone, Jungkook. They believe our lies,” you turn to him. It wasn’t a frown that you had on your face, it was fear for the future.

It was like a river was rushing through your head and heart. A bunch of emotions colliding with each other, washing away your comfort and peace. You were beyond scared. You had always imagined spending the rest of your life with Jungkook — but that was always as friends. Now, you weren’t sure what you were anymore.

“Imagine the chaos and betrayal. Everyone will lose their trust in us. They will make fun of you. Fun of me. Fun of our families. And you’re doing this just because… what? You want a common girl?” the sentence came out harsher than you wanted it to be. Jungkook turns his head to you. You could feel poison seeping out of his eyes for a moment. It hurt you more than it should’ve.

“Don’t speak of Hyun-ae like that.” You sigh, nodding sarcastically. “Right. And you tell me who should I speak of like that? You or Hyun-ae? You’re both behind this! You’re ruining everything. You’re ruining your life, you’re ruining your future rule, and you’re ruining my life too!” you exclaim. “Keep it down or they’ll hear us,” Jungkook mutters.

“I’m a victim in this situation!” you speak even louder. “I’m scared for my life! I deserve to speak as much as I want. However loud I want. Do you know what you’ve put me through?! What I have to do?! All this pretending, these lies,” you stop to catch your breath, hands trembling. “It’s not going to end good, Jungkook. It’s not going to end well. Your plans are bound to fail, like always.” You were initially surprised that you spoke this far without getting interrupted. Jungkook didn’t speak up.

“You’ve ruined me. For once, at least once… be my saviour like I’ve been yours.”

You didn’t speak to each other that night after that.

He was your ride or die. He had never put anyone above you. But now it was clear. It was clear that he didn’t care for your life anymore — he had Hyun-ae now. He had her love and he didn’t mind whatever happened to your friendship. With those thoughts, you cried yourself to sleep that night on the bed.

———

It was day one of sight-seeing. Or more like, site-seeing. Jungkook had made himself comfortable on the floor last night. You woke up to find him laying on the ground, sound asleep. At first, you were shocked, but remembering the events of last night, the sorrow and tension just returned to you.

You shook him awake, and he retorted at first like he always did, but in the end, he did get up.

He was now going through his closet, trying to pick an outfit. It reminded you of how you still hadn’t unpacked. Your luggage had been put in Jungkook’s room and looking over your shoulder, you could see the two bags you had packed. They were small and cute, pink in colour. They stood out in the room, which was mostly of golden and brown hues.

The truth was that you were afraid of talking to Jungkook. Seeing as he didn’t care enough to initiate the conversation, it made you nervous. Had he really taken all of those things to heart? More importantly, you were asking yourself if you really did mean everything you had said.

Were you mad at him or was it the frustration of pretending to be something, someone you’re not?

Mentally telling yourself ‘screw it,’ you turn to Jungkook and clear your throat to gain his attention. He doesn’t stop looking for clothes through his wardrobe, but you saw him flinch ever so slightly when you did make a sound. You were going to say sorry. But was it really your fault?

You wondered why you were even saying sorry when it wasn’t even your fault. If anything, it was Jungkook’s. And Hyun-ae’s, someone that you hadn’t even met yet, but still she was ruining your life. You dismissed yourself again. You had to be a good friend.

“…I’m sorry about last night…” you begin speaking, making him stop in his actions. His face was hidden behind his arm, so you couldn’t see his expression. You were feeling really sick now. “I’m sorry about whatever I said,” even though it was all correct, “it was very inconsiderate of me,” it was very inconsiderate of him to ask you to do all this, “and I’m really at fault. I mean it.” You didn’t mean it.

He turns to you with a sigh, then sits down next to you on the bed. “It's… it’s fine. I know you wouldn’t mean those types of things, I just…” he bites his lower lip, clearly confused about his own emotions. “You just got defensive?” you ask bitterly, making him frantically shake his head. He stayed quiet for a moment. “Maybe you’re right — yeah — I guess…” he gives in, nodding lightly.

You click your tongue, “you know fights aren’t worth it. Let’s just… forget it, ‘kay? That never happened, okay?” you smile at him, he looks at you with uncertainty before he gives you a bright smile back. Bright just like himself. That’s one thing you loved about your friendship: you made up quickly. You loved that smile. You loved his laugh, the genuine one.

He was sarcastic and stupid, he did things that were, otherwise, outright reckless, but you loved that too. It was what made him… well, him.

That day was spent around the popular sites of the kingdom — he showed you a clocktower that was made by his great-grandfather. It reminded you of Big Ben, which was in England.

Next, you were shown the royal museum that held the edicts and some artefacts, which were used by the royal family. Some were swords used in ancient wars, some were cups of gold used by the previous kings, and the proclamations of some rulers were inscribed on scrolls.

You were shown around a lot of historical monuments too. It was quite boring, to be honest, and Jungkook’s father had one of the noblemen show you and tell you everything, so you couldn’t even do something fun. At least Jungkook’s snarky comments saved the day.

———

Day two had been switched up by Jungkook. He had told his father that ‘enough was enough’ and he ‘wanted to do something more fun’. So you guessed that’s how you got to the amusement park you were at now.

It was the largest one in his kingdom, no doubt quite expensive, with the rides you had seen. It was nicely decorated, with banners and streamers. Almost like a birthday party. But maybe the sight would’ve been more colourful if the paparazzi hadn’t swarmed you, shoving the cameras in your faces.

You held Jungkook’s hand tightly as you ventured through the crowd. You never knew Jungkook was good at archery. But apparently, he was. It was a little minigame and if you could hit all the points on the several boards, you could choose what prize you wanted — they were all plushies.

When he did hit all the points, he offered you to choose the prize for yourself. You knew exactly what you wanted. The cute pink bunny, which in the end, was named Cooky by Jungkook. Ironic.

You went on a rollercoaster next. It would be an understatement to say you were screaming all the way. Jungkook was surprised that your voice could even reach that high. “Only if you put me on a rollercoaster or put a cockroach on me,” you had replied, making him laugh as he dragged you to the next ride.

But you wished you had known that one ride could make you scream like no other.

It was a ship. A ship dangling in the air. Now you were told that it would swing forward and backward in the air, but that didn’t explain the horror enough.

“Jungkook, for the love of God, I swear I’ll give you all the banana milk you want, please don’t let me go, please don’t let me go, I’m gonna die—!” maybe you had forgotten to mention that those kinds of rides made you sick. Any time the ship swung forward was the mania. You felt like it would throw you out of it. You were clinging to Jungkook for your dear life, with him holding Cooky alongside you.

You felt like you’d die. Any time it swung backwards, you’d get the time to breathe and calm down, then prepare yourself for the next forward swing, but of course, you could never be prepared enough. In the end, you’d always scream your lungs out. Thankfully, Jungkook held onto you securely the whole time.

"It’s okay, it’s okay!” you heard his laugh follow. Your arms were around his thin waist, making sure you wouldn’t fall off. You felt like you were flying but it was worse. You were just praying you wouldn’t fall out and die.

At least Jungkook managed to whisper affirmative words, and you were able to catch a few in the loud wind. “It’ll be fine, I’m with you, it’s okay… I’m with you,” he kept on repeating. You were glad when the ride was over, and you had to be supported by a laughing Jungkook as you were quite dizzy after all that.

Your brain was buzzing and you couldn’t even see properly. In fact, you were shaking in your boots. That was the worst time of your life. And you never wanted to experience it again.

To calm things down a bit, Jungkook decided to go on the Ferris wheel next. Cooky was given to you and you hugged it the whole way to the ride. Getting into your cabin, you were finally able to take a breath of relief and organise your thoughts. Your hair was a bit of a mess, so you fixed that as best as you could. You still hugged Cooky tightly though. You were scared.

"The sunset’s pretty,“ you couldn’t believe the day had gone so fast as you spoke. Sunsets were always pretty romantic, so mentioning that just made you nervous. Jungkook smiled softly, nodding to your words. Seeing that smile on his face, it just made you feel all giddy.

At some point during the ride, the question turned from ‘why could everyone see you as a real couple’ to ‘who wouldn’t call you two a couple?‘

You were falling deeper and deeper into the abyss that was Jungkook. Yes, he was foolish and he made decisions even if he knew that they would result in bad things happening. He wasn’t the smartest, but his smile was adorable. His laugh was adorable. The way he held you was something you had started to like a lot more. You really did love everything he did — so were you in love?

No, of course not… or you thought. He had a girlfriend and it was stupid to be in love with a taken man. But he did ask you to act like his soon-to-be wife, so you were just going to use that to your advantage. Maybe you couldn’t be with him, but the moments you two had were precious to you.

And if you could have more of those, then you were satisfied. Love hurt and it didn’t always work out. And that was fine, so you wouldn’t try to make him fall for you.

You were sure that if he was meant to do that, then it could’ve been done a lot more sooner — before Hyun-ae had come into the picture.

"I really like it too.” His reply made you lose your train of thought. You smiled at him as he stared in the distance, looking a lot calmer than usual. Maybe the possibility of falling in love with your childhood friend wasn’t that low.

The kiss came back to you, memories of his soft lips flooding your mind. Heat rose to your cheeks, so you opted to conceal your blushing face by hiding it behind the giant pink bunny that was Cooky.

Maybe you wouldn’t mind falling for Jeon Jungkook.

———

Each and every day, you felt like you were falling more and more for his beautiful smile. His oblivious laugh. His sparkling eyes. He may have been intimidating, but he was the softest person you knew. He was caring and gentle.

He was protective of those he cared for. Just like you. Just like Hyun-ae.

At one point, you had told yourself to stop falling for him. Like it was even possible. But still, you distanced yourself from him. Or you had tried to. You had told yourself that he was taken, it was stupid to fall for him, you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t bear being hurt. But the heart never listened to anyone. You just felt yourself wanting more and more from him.

You had always thought that your ‘soulmate’ must be out there somewhere, just waiting for you to come along. But now that you were falling deeper into the spiral, it eventually changed to ‘my soulmate lives in the kingdom next to mine and we’re ‘best friends’.’

But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It hurt. It hurt so much. It killed you inside when you realised you couldn’t be with him. It absolutely devastated you. You hated it. But at the same time, you were happy. Wasn’t that love? Being happy because your loved one is. Smiling because he smiled. Laughing because he laughed. Living because he did. That was certainly how you felt.

"Tonight, we’re going out,” Jungkook says one unexpected night. You look at him with furrowed brows, confused. You had been continuing the site-seeing but you hadn’t been out at night. “Why? Where?” you blurt out, caught off-guard by the sudden exclamation.

Jungkook shifts closer to you hastily. “We’re alone, Guk. Seriously. No one is going to overhear you. We’re in your room,” you roll your eyes, but you don’t forget that your heart is racing because of how close he is to you. “We’re going to the club tonight.”

The seductive whisper wasn’t even the thing that sent chills down your spine. It was the fact that you were going to the club. And if you didn’t know better, you would’ve asked which club, but you knew it was the one Hyun-ae worked at. You felt a little unready for the whole occasion, to be honest.

“I— but what about your parents? What will we tell them?” you ask nervously, making Jungkook chuckle. Who were you kidding, he had probably taken care of that. He was just the best when it came to the worst things.

“Junghyun will take care of it. I told him to make up an excuse. He doesn’t know which club we’re going at anyway. Neither does he know about Hyun-ae,” you couldn’t ignore how sweetly he pronounced her name. Like she was something so precious, just an absolute treasure to him. You wished he called you like that.

“Okay.”

So that’s how you got to the club. It was jammed with people. You guessed that common clubs would be even more jammed. You saw people of high status dancing to the beat of the music on the dance floor, some had their lips on others’, some were downing glasses by the second. The overall situation was just sensual.

“This way,” with your hand in Jungkook’s, you were led to the bar where Hyun-ae worked at.

“Jungkook!” she was beautiful. In the dim lighting, you couldn’t see her especially well, but she was drop-dead gorgeous from what you did see. If you weren’t aware of her social status, you may have thought she was a princess working at a bar or something. Her voice was soft but clear, it was like music to your ears.

You were taken to a more secluded corner of the club, where Jungkook’s hand left yours. You felt yourself missing the touch instantly. He stood next to Hyun-ae now. Of course, she was his main priority. You were guessing the night was going to be a long one.

“So you’re Y/N?” you nod to her words, before realising that she probably couldn’t see that well either and decide to speak up. “Yeah,” you say. A little piece of your heart was on fire right now. It was hurting so much. This was the girl he was going to marry. After everything, she was the end goal. You bite your lip in an effort not to break down. You kept telling yourself you were happy for him.

But you weren’t. You were hurt. You wanted him to always be there like he had. You were being selfish and you hoped he’d forgive you for it. “It’s great to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Jungkook,” Hyun-ae giggled afterwards. “Thank you for being a good friend to Jungkook,” you could see her outline move closer to Jungkook’s. She wrapped her arm around Jungkook’s affectionately. You nodded slowly, then sighed.

You wanted to cry. Why did you agree? Jungkook’s adorable laugh as Hyun-ae put her arm around his — it was contagious. That was how you knew it was real. “I-It’s nothing, really. I appreciate Jungkook as a friend too…” you say quietly. Even your words were like a dagger to your heart. Your poor heart suffered too much.

You excused yourself as they started to say their ‘I love you’s. You didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to suffer more than you already had. Trying to hold back your tears, you blamed yourself for falling too hard, too deep. Your heart was pounding against your chest. You just wanted to hold him. You just wanted him but even that seemed too much to ask for.

You can barely stand up yourself, so you take support from the counter of the bar. “Some long island iced tea, please,” you mutter to the person at the counter, who prepares you the glass and you gulp it down within a matter of seconds, hoping it would ease the tightness of your chest. You knew you were going to get badly drunk, but it didn’t matter anymore. As long as you didn’t have to be sad today. It certainly did help.

You felt better. The liquor was washing away your sorrows. Your mind felt a little fuzzier. You order one more glass. Just one more couldn’t hurt. You drink that one down too, but this time leisurely, feeling a lot more free and careless.

The surroundings were becoming more blurry by the second. You felt light-weighed. Your tipsy self walked over to the familiar corner of the club, where you saw Jungkook and Hyun-ae on their own. Tugging on your friend’s jacket, you try to balance yourself with his support. “Y/N? Are you already drunk?” he asks, but his voice seems so distant that you just want to be lulled to dreamland at this point.

“No, of course… I'm… not drunk… not… yet?” you say, more as a question than a definite answer. Jungkook sighs. Well, this was bound to happen. He knew you didn’t handle alcohol very well, but how bad exactly, he wasn’t sure.“What did you have? Are you okay? Should I take you home?” you nod slowly to his words, but your brain didn’t register anything. “Two… iced teas… the long island ones…” you take the moment to appreciate the way Jungkook’s hands kept you up. You’d slide down to the ground if it wasn’t for him.

"Seriously?“ he muttered something to Hyun-ae afterwards, but you didn’t catch it. "Let’s go… and sleep, I’m really tired…” you hadn’t even been there for half an hour. Yet still, you couldn’t keep yourself up anymore. "And let’s sleep on the same bed… okay? Don't… sleep on the floor this time… I’m worried you might catch a cold…”

“I get it, let’s go,” Jungkook’s frustration was clear. But your drunk self didn’t seem to mind it all. He said some more things to Hyun-ae, whose distorted expression was something between concern and jealousy. Or so you hoped it was jealously, because you hated her. You absolutely loathed her. Everything about her.

You were finally taken back to the castle unnoticed.

“Why do we lie, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, you’re almost asleep but his question wakes you up. As he had said, he was going to sleep with you tonight. Every other night, you kept on switching between who’d take the floor and who’d take the bed. He was the one who mostly took the floor, but this night, things were different.

“I don’t know… why are you asking me… I don’t lie…” you mumble through your sleep, eyes shut gently. “Everyone lies,” hearing Jungkook’s statement, you snicker. “I don’t, suck it up…” you reply. “Right. So you don’t. But why do others lie?” he repeats.

“Because… hmm… depends…” you shift a little in the warm bed, blanket over your body. Jungkook was sitting on the bed, his back supported by the pillow as he didn’t feel the need to sleep just yet. His phone was in front of him. You wanted him to play you some melodies but that was probably too much. Enough destruction had been done today.

“Sometimes we lie… because… we want to make others happy…” you pause, drifting more into sleep. “And other times?” Jungkook beckons you to continue. “Well… other times… we lie because… we don’t want to get into… trouble.“

"Oh,” Jungkook blurts out, making you reach out absent-mindedly, and punch his arm. Or it felt like his arm anyway. “Like you do. But there’s one other time we lie…” Jungkook’s eyes were on you. You could feel them. “When we… want something from someone else. When we are using them."

"Now play me some music, please… some soft… sweet music."

"I’ll sing for you."

"Yes please…"

"And you bless me with the best gift, that I’ve ever known, you give me purpose.”

———

Lately, things had been very hard. Jungkook’s mother wasn’t joking when she had said that the wedding would be held as soon as possible. You were hogged with what to wear, make-up, hairstyles, and everything.

You told her to take it slow as Jungkook had advised you to do, but she was very keen, just like you had thought. Side by side, your mother was in favour of everything too.

To calm things down a bit, you told your mother and his mother that you and Jungkook would be going sightseeing again. It was the only way you could get out and breathe some fresh air. Most girls would be excited for their wedding day, but you wanted to postpone it as much as possible — well, it wasn’t yours, to begin with.

The crowd was really bad this time. You were visiting the statue that Jungkook’s grandfather had apparently built. It was a man, young from what you could see, made of some sort of metal, maybe bronze or gold, but you weren’t sure. He held up a sword in the air, which reminded you almost of winning a war and doing your victory pose. Or maybe you had been playing a lot of Overwatch with Jungkook.

News of your wedding was all around the kingdom now, you guessed it was like that in yours too.

Jungkook’s hand was holding yours. But perhaps not as strongly. Everyone kept asking questions and screaming names, you may have heard some death threats too. Possibly fangirls of the prince, you guessed. The crowd’s force was so strong, even the few guards you had brought weren’t strong enough to hold them back. Should’ve brought more guards, the same thought recurred.

Your hand left Jungkook’s in the midst of all the shouts and screams, and pushing and pulling. You were drawn back in the crowd, with no one noticing that you were outside the swarm now.

Frantically, you ran around the circle of people, trying to get in but everyone was so used to forcing their way through, you couldn’t even get back to your friend. The word tasted bitter on your lips. You sigh, hastily running to another side before your eyes settle at the cafè that’s beside the other shops in the area.

Hyun-ae. You could recognise her in the bright daylight. She was there with someone. A man, a man whose face was half-covered by the mask that he was wearing over his mouth. One you didn’t know.

You step closer to the window, where their seats were at. Maybe you could hear them? Who was he? You didn’t want to jump to wrong conclusions, they could be siblings or cousins… or maybe even friends, who knows? But the sick feeling that you get at the pit of your stomach tells you something else entirely.

Your breath is basically non-existent as you step closer, and the two don’t notice you. You stand next to the glass window, your back supported by the wall. You hope no one is recording you. You hope you don’t turn up in the newspapers, accused of eavesdropping. But you have to do this for yourself. For yourself and Jungkook. Besides, the reporters were a little too biased towards Jungkook and what he did rather than your doings.

“I asked him for some more time,” her voice was just the same you had remembered it. It was still beautiful, and while you had only met her once, it was short, and days have passed since then, you could still recognise it. The only difference was that now it was infusing with your blood like poison. You hated her voice, her being.

Your stomach started to churn and do back-flips. Your insides were burning. You felt almost bad for Jungkook. Was she the only one who needed time? Was that why you were dragged into this?

“I don’t want to marry him. But I need to become queen,” you hear her whine. “Ah, Jagiya~ it’s okay,” the male’s voice was indistinguishable. You didn’t know who he was. “But I want to marry you! But you’re just not… enough. You’re not as rich. You’re not a prince,” she frowned.

What was more stupid was that she was right near where Jungkook was. Did she expect him to show up and break up with her? How’d she ever become queen then? You wondered what her motive was.

“Plus, I hate that friend of his. He’s always talking of her and she seems to be the type of person who talks all about him too.” That wasn’t a surprise. While it did make your heart flutter when you heard that he was talking of you to his girlfriend, that wasn’t what mattered right now. What mattered was that Jungkook was dating a cheater and it was stupid of him to waste his energy on someone like her.

Tired and obviously angry, you give Jungkook a message to meet you at the car. Your anger was beyond measure. Feeling like you heard something you should not have, you didn’t know how to feel. You were scared, most of all. You finally find the car and get inside, tapping your foot with irritation.

The car door opens and Jungkook sits inside. The driver starts up the car and you’re taken back to the castle.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks you when you get to his room. You avoided all of his questions in the car. You didn’t want to speak of the matter in front of the driver.

"Hyun-ae is cheating on you,“ you say, and while you aren’t even the one in the relationship, your eyes flood with tears. You’re worried about Jungkook. You love him. You love him and you don’t want him to be heartbroken.

"What?” he blurts out, turning to you with surprise. You lock your tear-filled eyes with his blank ones. “Hyun-ae is cheating on you. I saw her. I saw her, she was with another man… she’s…” you bite your lip, looking away. You felt pity above all. Pity for Jungkook.

And here you thought you were the victim. That you were being used. But it was all along Jungkook, controlled like a puppet, the strings in Hyun-ae’s hands.

“…she's… u-using you.” Jungkook stays still at the words. He didn’t want to speak. His heart fell. “You must have seen someone else,” he replies, plastering a smile. “There’s a lot of people who look like Hyun-ae."

"But she sounded like her too."

"She couldn’t be. She loves me,” you walk closer to Jungkook, shaking your head. How badly you wanted to scream that she didn’t love him like he thought. “How do I tell you…? I should’ve recorded it… I should’ve taken pictures… I know… but… I was too shocked… I’m so sorry,” you look deep in his eyes. For once, you don’t see twinkling stars. You see darkness — emptiness — and that spoke a ton about how he felt.

“T-Tell me you’re lying. Hyun-ae… she couldn’t do that.” You sigh heavily, and it still isn’t enough to let out the frustration you feel. “I’m not lying. She’s cheating on you. I swear I’m not lying,” you say meekly. “I wouldn’t ever lie to you."

"But you did.”

You stare at him, eyes wide. “What do you mean?” you ask, brows furrowing. "You meant everything you said that night. You said it was stupid of me to marry a commoner. I thought you were my friend…?“ your eyes widen more.

You shake your head in denial, but your voice doesn’t come out. "Friends support friends."

"I am supporting you! I’ve always supported you. You’re just blind in love,” you bite your lip, afraid you’d start crying. Jungkook turns quiet. “You can believe whatever you want to. Just know that I told you the truth. It’s Hyun-ae who—"

"Don’t speak in that way about Hyun-ae!” the loud shout shook you. You take a deep, uneven breath, sniffing. “You picked Hyun-ae over me again. Even if I’m not lying,” you wipe the tears in your eyes. “This was what I was afraid of.” Your heart hurt. It hurt like it never had. You felt like your breath was being taken away, like you were suffocating.

"I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s a lost cause.”

———

It had been days since then. Jungkook and you had separate rooms now. You had requested that of Jungkook’s mother and she agreed. Everyone could sense that something was wrong, because you both kept shut in your individual rooms. Though no one would mention it. There was no sightseeing, no communication between you and Jungkook.

You’d go to give him food but he’d never open the door. In the end, it was left at his doorstep.

"Y/N, darling, we should go shopping for your dress, no? The wedding is real close,” and did you forget to mention that the wedding was coming really fast now? Unlike yourself, Jungkook was in his room all day. He didn’t get out of it for a single moment. You sometimes got up to go out because your mother told you so.

“Sure…” the wedding was supposed to held in a wedding hall, and you had decided upon going for a more western style. A white dress, made to perfectly suit you. It all felt a little useless now. You weren’t even going to be married to Jungkook anymore. There was no point, but the others didn’t know.

Jungkook didn’t know.

As your mother would show you pretty dresses and awe over them as they fit your wedding theme, you’d think of what Jungkook would be doing. Was he crying? Was he sad? Or was he happy? Was he playing Overwatch, or maybe he was talking to Hyun-ae. Maybe that last thought wasn’t as soothing as the rest. At least every time you gave him food, he’d take it inside. Hopefully, he was eating well. He’d never open the door to anyone though, not while they were standing there.

You sigh, pick any dress that comes to mind and show it to your mother. Your mind just kept zooming back to Jungkook. He hadn’t taken his attire yet, had he? A little part of you felt disgusted because while he was heartbroken, or so you thought anyway, you were picking out a dress for the wedding. And while you did love him, you just wished you could fix everything.

Maybe in another universe, in another world, some other time, you could be with him.

Getting back to the castle, you took the food tray you were offered from the kitchen and took it to Jungkook’s room. This was every day’s routine.

You knock on the door, taking a deep breath. You know he won’t open it, but a little part of you still thinks he considers it. He probably hates you though, no matter how much you deny the thought. “Jungkook… I brought food,” you say quietly, hoping he’d be able to hear it from the other side. Your heart was begging to just see his face again. He felt like a distant memory.

“Jungkook,” you knock the door again, but then stop, giving up. Putting down the tray, you hope he’ll take the food you left and leave.

You needed this to stop. You wanted him to hear from you again. You wanted to see his pretty face again. You wanted to hear his sweet voice again. Taking out your phone, you quietly muttered ‘screw it’ and texted Junghyun to tell him to meet up with you. You decided upon going to a cafè — not the same one as Hyun-ae’s, though. Just a random one that Junghyun recommended. You knew it wasn’t the same one as you entered. You didn’t want to confess in the castle. You were afraid someone would overhear. Plus it felt a little too confined. You wanted to get out and try to be a little happy for once. The castle felt like a jail of lies at this point.

“I want to tell you something…” you couldn’t believe you were doing it. “What?” you knew you could trust Junghyun. But to what extent? You were scared he might tell his parents, and then the news would quickly spread, but you had to do it. You knew you didn’t have Jungkook’s permission. But you weren’t going to back down now. For one, you didn’t need his assistance. You knew the truth. And secondly, it was far too late to turn back now.

“Promise me you won’t freak out,” you look at him with furrowed brows, and he nods slowly. “Okay… but… what are you—?”

“Is that princess Y/N?” you freeze. The news reporters. You could hear them approaching you. And for once, you felt frustrated. Why this place, of all of them? You get up, taking Junghyun’s hand, you get out of the cafè, where the swarm of reporters is already gathering. “Why are you holding prince Junghyun’s hand?” one asks. You take a deep breath. “I—”

“Are you cheating> on prince Jungkook?” your eyes flood with tears. You wanted to scream, you wanted to tell them the truth. But you were the antagonist. You always had been. You were set to be the jealous person that fell in love. You were never the princess you truly were in real life. You could never even think of cheating on Jungkook. But with the way you held Junghyun’s hand, it was clear to the crowd.

“Can you explain your relationship with prince Junghyun?” another asks. “Are you cheating on prince Jungkook with prince Junghyun?” one more question came. You were deaf to all of them. You wished you were. You wished you were deaf to the accusations. You bite your lip in an effort to not break down, tearing at the seams. You were tearing at the seams.

Grasping Junghyun’s hand even tighter, you walk away from the crowd, pushing and making your way back to the sanctuary you once had.

———

“They blame me, Jungkook…” your lip was quivering as you spoke to the door. It was late at night. No one was roaming the corridors at this time, and it was dark. But you hoped, you hoped that Jungkook was hearing you. “I never cheated on you… I swear…” you break down. “I wish you could open the door. I hope you can hear me… but I never cheated on you…” you felt like you were going crazy.

You were desperate to shout out the truth. You were done living a lie. Living as a lie. “Please… Jungkook… we were in this together… you told me that I was never alone…” but you were alone. Alone and so much more. The cheating accusations had spread like a wildfire. But you weren’t cheating. You were telling the truth. You were trying to tell Junghyun the truth so he could help you. He was like a younger brother to you.

“Please open the door…” you sniff, breaking down more. Tears wouldn’t stop falling down your cheeks. “Everyone’s really worried for you too… I wish we could escape this. I wish we really could. I hope you’re okay…” you sob. You had a headache from crying. “I really hope you’re okay…” you bite your quivering bottom lip, “I care for you a lot. A lot. I really do.

"I love us too, Jungkook. But you’re making it hard for me to hang on.”

———

The castle was sombre. It had been like this for a while now. The royal families were trying to handle the situation, but the media had everyone fooled. Jungkook still hadn’t come out of his room, he’d never even take the food anymore. Junghyun had taken refuge in his room, he sometimes would come out. But whenever his eyes met yours, you could see the uncertainty they held.

You had given up on trying to tell anyone about the truth. You couldn’t do it without Jungkook. You wanted to die. You weren’t even living anymore. Just hanging between life and death. The food tasted stale because Jungkook wasn’t there. The room looked darker because Jungkook wasn’t there. Your heart always fell when you saw that the food tray hadn’t been taken inside by Jungkook.

His hands had held you. His arms had protected you. His eyes had made you smile. And his smile had made you laugh and feel all giddy. You couldn’t even blame yourself for falling for him — who wouldn’t fall for him? He was perfect, even with his imperfections, he was perfect.

Maybe the problem was Hyun-ae. Maybe it was her selfishness that led you all to this hell-hole. Or maybe it was you, caring a little too much for your own good.

It was the night before the wedding. You stopped in your tracks in front of Jungkook’s room. The door was as closed as it had ever been. The tray wasn’t touched even a little. You put the food aside.

“Jungkook. Tomorrow’s the wedding,” it wasn’t that late. He should’ve been awake. “Our plans have failed. I’m so sorry.” You turn quiet for a second. “I know you really wanted to marry Hyun-ae. You wanted to marry Hyun-ae and you loved her. You still love her,” it hurt to even say that, “but I failed you. I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Your head perks up. Did you hear his sweet voice? It was him. Meek, but you could still identify it. “Why are you sorry?” you ask, trembling. You just wished he’d open the door and let you see him. It had been weeks. You couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t go by without seeing his beautiful face, his shining eyes.

“You were right. Hyun-ae was cheating on me.” You stare expectantly at the door, waiting for it to open but it didn’t. “How did you find out…?” you ask again. At least you were true. “One of the noblemen told me. His name’s Taehyung. We’re quite good friends. I told him to follow her. He saw it with his own eyes,” he answered. While you did feel sad that he didn’t believe you but he did believe Taehyung, you couldn’t blame him. He really did love Hyun-ae.

“What about… the wedding now?” you ask weakly, afraid to approach the topic. “I don’t know anymore. I gave you so much pain. I put you through so much. You agreed. You deserve a much better friend, Y/N,” you shake your head at his words. “You’re my best friend. And…” you bite your lip. Something in you told you that you weren’t as scared to say it now.

“And I love you.” There was silence on both sides. It was understandable. You wished you were less selfish. He was still going through a break-up, you should’ve been nicer and save it for later. But you had come to realise that later wasn’t a thing anymore. Whatever was going to happen, it had to happen now.

“I loved you too.” Your eyes widen. “I did. I thought you saw me just like a brother… so… I… I went to the bar. I saw Hyun-ae. She helped… she was like a rebound. I hate to put it that way, because I did like her too… but I don’t even deserve you after what I did. I realise now that I’m selfish. I’m self-obsessed. I shouldn’t have asked you such a big favour. I mean… I loved you. You don’t do that to the people you love.

"When I spent time with you, I felt like I was with my soulmate.” You didn’t speak. You were too scared to. “I felt like I was on cloud nine. You made me so happy, Y/N. I laughed the hardest when you were around. You always seemed to put a smile on my face. You really did. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”

———

The wedding day, you sigh. “Where is Jungkook?!” the queen exclaims, furious. Since he had locked himself in his room, she had bought his attire for him. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You had talked to him last night, but after he confessed, he had turned quiet and eventually you were just talking to yourself.

Your mind did not focus on her though. It was somewhere else. “Love like the one between you and Jungkook can’t be faked, dear. You’ll be very happy with him,” your mother had said as you were being ready for the big day. You couldn’t explain the heartburn you felt when you heard her words.

Now everything was in chaos. No one knew where Jungkook was. You suggested checking his room, but it was locked. A locksmith was called immediately and after he had worked his magic, the door opened.

You were scared. But even more so, worried. Jungkook wasn’t in his room. Opening the bathroom door, Jungkook’s motionless body was found to be in the bathtub.

The rest was a blur. You vaguely remember freaking out, Jungkook’s mother’s screams, and the people who came to pick up the body. You couldn’t stop crying as you reached the hospital and Jungkook was taken straight to the ICU.

Your mother came to sit down beside you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she hugs you, while you sob into her shoulder. You were still in your wedding clothes. “He wasn’t even supposed to be my husband, mother.”

“What?”

“It was a lie…” you admit. “He wanted to marry a commoner. She asked him for time, so he asked me to play along so he could get some more time for his real soon-to-be wife. But she cheated on him. Only wanted the money and status. I wasn’t his wife, mother.” You look at her, her unwavering eyes making you break down even more. “I wasn’t dating Jungkook, mother.”

———

Since then, you’d visit Jungkook every day. He was diagnosed to be in a coma because of the lack of oxygen his brain had received after he tried to suicide by drowning himself.

Your mother had told his parents the truth, and thankfully, even if they were angry for some time, they let you see him again. You’d always bring Cooky with you. It was the one thing he had left you — along with countless beautiful memories.

The first year was heartbreaking. You’d come to visit him and cry every time. You’d tell him how much you love him and that you miss him and his jokes. That everyone misses him. Hyun-ae had come to visit too, and the visit had been short and silent. She told you that she was deeply sorry for what she had done. You fucking hoped she did.

The second year was when most people had forgotten he even existed. The hype had died down, but you still visited him. You told him about how you had spent your day, and that you had met someone promising. You always made sure to kiss him goodbye. You didn’t cry as much now. Sometimes you did, but most of the time, you made jokes. You told him about how people were making fun of you for fake-dating someone as amazing as Jungkook. It hurt, but you felt like Jungkook’s mere presence was enough to make you feel calm.

The third year came and went just as quickly. You told Jungkook about how you had started dating someone for real now. The promising person was by the name of Namjoon. He was another prince you had come across, from a nearby kingdom. Smart, humble, and sweet too. You told Jungkook of your adventures with Namjoon.

The first year that you didn’t have even one day to spare was the fifth one. You and Namjoon had decided to get married. And the preparations had you very busy. You felt bad for that, but you had no other choice.

———

Six years had passed. Going down the aisle, being wed to Namjoon reminded you of your precious friend. He was still in deep sleep, unaware that his loved one was going to get married. Even if he didn’t know Namjoon, he would’ve been the best man at the wedding.

Or wouldn’t it be better if he was the groom himself? You were not going to make the mistake of treating Namjoon as a rebound. It was wrong and he deserved more than that. You had seen how wrong that could go. But there was just something Jungkook had always made you feel that Namjoon just… couldn’t.

He was intelligent, his dimpled smile was adorable. But Jungkook made you feel elevated. He made you feel so incredibly special. And you knew fully well that you couldn’t ever really move on.

You knew that there may have been someone like him out there, but no one was Jungkook. Namjoon was everything Jungkook lacked — he was a planner, he cared for the consequences, and he didn’t take risks. But you just did not feel the way you felt with Jungkook. You wished you could’ve walked down the aisle to Jungkook, but that was wrong to think. So you shook your head and smiled even if your heart was unwilling.

There was no one like Jungkook. He was one of a kind and no one could compete with him. That was a simple truth. You just hoped your dear friend would wake up. There was so much to catch up on. There were so many things you wanted to say to him.

In the place that he would’ve sat today, sat another faithful, dear friend of yours — Cooky. A symbol of your lost love.

#bangtanhq #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #fic:sly #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts x reader #jimin #taehyung #yoongi #hoseok #jin #namjoon #jungkook scenario #jeon jungkook #fake dating au

111 notes · View notes

divagonzo · 4 years

Text

Quarantine (Romione, One-shot)

Ao3 // FF.net (will post them there tomorrow but Tumblr gets the first crack tonight)

A/N: I’d intended to have this posted last week but RL got in the way and so much fell onto my plate as “back-up daughter” to friends who are out of state for their elderly parents. What little time I had was claimed by so many other things too. I know there is a Princess somewhere mad that RL interfered in my life once again. One of these years my life will be only dramatic in the stories I write. Alas.

Rated M (so much smutty goodness in this one!) for Lemons, Limes, Citrus galore. Not Ace Safe in the least (This means you @headcanonsandmore)

TW: Mentions of current British events involving a towheaded cockwomble and his deputy. Tagging @hillnerd and @abradystrix just ‘cause.

Give me my demarcation line darn it!

“I swear to Merlin that I am going to strangle that sod,” Hermione growled before putting the two-way mirror down in her office. “That cockwomble!”

“Love?” Ron poked his head in, wondering what got Hermione into a bit of lather this morning from her noon call with the Muggle PM.

Hermione took off her reading glasses and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes, wondering how much more cocked up the world was going to be in the interim.

“What’s happened, dear?” Ron stood at the doorway, wondering too what was going on. “I heard you cursing. Did you speak with that tosser of a PM?”

“I did,” She hissed. “Do you remember that boring ministry dinner we attended last weekend? The one where I was seated across from the PM and his partner, talking boring politics while you tried to keep from complaining about the rubbish chicken they served for the main course?”

“Of course. Who could forget that Merlin awful chicken that even you could cook a better one than what was presented to us? Who did they get to cater it, Malfoy?”

“You’d think, right? Anyway, it seems the PM has gone and contracted some virus, one that appears to be worse than the flu for some people. Unfortunately, now, since we were within close contact with the bastard,”

“Please don’t tell me.”

“We’re quarantined for a fortnight because that sod insisted on shaking everyone’s hand when they arrived, including yours.”

“Shite.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought too. At least the kids were off at school.”

“That – “ Hermione tuned out for Ron’s caustic rant about the current PM who seemed to have less brains than Flint seems to possess. “I can’t believe he did that.”

“So we have to be home, inside, for 2 weeks. We can’t even go out shopping for groceries, you to work, anything.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“I know. Fortunately, we’ve not been to see your parents since we met with the PM.”

“And your parents?”

“I’ve only talked with them on the phone. I’ve not been by there in 2 weeks.”

“Harry & Ginny. I mean she is at home with a toddler and Harry’s been working on a case for weeks now with his group. I had a meeting with him last week to discuss training for the new class coming in.”

“Then we need to tell him and others and let them decide.”

“Bugger. How bad is this virus?”

“From what he said, most people get a little sick but it’s not a big deal. The problem is that for one in five, it’s serious enough for a visit to the A&E. From what he said also, there’s about 1 in 20 that need critical care.” Hermione sat back in her leather office chair, sighing. “I need to contact St. Mungo’s and let them know to prepare for this. I think I also need to share this with the Wizarding population, too, so they can take care of themselves too.”

“That bad?”

“You know how I talk about history entirely too much?”

Ron grinned, thinking about how often Hermione would pick up a tome for a bit of light reading. “Of course I do. Last year you were reading something on the Dark Ages. Seemed quite bad.”

“Oh, it was. It was how a plague back in the 14th century and how it decimated the European population.”

“Sounds grim.”

“It was. There are articles by historians that the plague killed between 25 and 50 per cent of the population of Europe. Only a few places were reasonably immune to it.”

Ron frowned. “Please tell me it won’t be that bad for us.”

“It won’t. We have better medicines and potions to take now unlike back then. We have a level of hygiene now that makes the transmission less likely.”

Ron said, “You mean how we take a bath or a shower daily?”

“That and always washing hands when coming out of the loo.”

“Who wouldn’t? That’s gross.”

Hermione grimaced. “You know there are plenty of men who don’t wash their hands.”

“True and they’re disgusting.”

“Anyway, we’re going to be home awhile.”

“We’ll need some groceries to tide us over.”

“I’ll firecall Neville and let him know to keep the kids at Hogwarts until this passes for us.”

“Good idea. Looks like we’re going to break out that industrial-sized Mirror you got for me when I was laid up on bed rest with the kids.”

“I’ll go get it and put it up in here for you.” Ron stopped. “So if you’re infected, then I am too, right?”

Hermione smiled, thinking of a delightful Sunday lie-in they had last weekend. “Yes, you would be.”

“Well since I’m on the same broom you are, it’s not like you have to sleep on the couch or anything.”

“No, neither of us has to sleep on the couch.” Hermione stood up from her leather office chair and went to the doorway, pushing her husband gently into the doorframe. With a glance, she ran her fingers through the fringe and his hair, appreciating the softness of the hair on his head. “And no illness will keep me from doing this,” She stood on her tiptoes to gently kiss him.

Ron reached for her hips and pulled her body flush to his own. “Keep that up and we won’t get any work done this afternoon.”

Hermione kissed him on the nose before pulling his head forward, resting her forehead on his. “And once again, you’re right. I did say I needed to do a couple of things before this evening.” She sighed. “But I would enjoy dessert tonight.” Her smile turned wicked. “I think we would both appreciate some quality stress relief.”

Ron pulled her close again, snogging her breathless. “I’ll hold you to it.” He hugged her tight, pressing his nose into her hair. “I’ll go get the mirror out of storage and set it up. Then I’ll firecall everyone to warn them off, including Harry and Ginny.”

“I admit this is going to be, well, interesting.”

Ron erupted in a cheeky grin. “Remember the last time we had a fortnight to ourselves?”

“You mean that little cottage in the French Alps at Mont Fort? That was quite nice of Fleur’s parents to rent it out for us for that holiday.” Hermione smiled thinking of that particular Holiday. “The Muggles only saw one hut out there in the middle of nowhere but didn’t see the Wizarding village down the side of the mountain. I don’t know of any Holiday we’ve ever taken that was better than the one there.”

“You certainly weren’t complaining that we were snowed in that week and slept in front of the fireplace every night to stay warm.” Ron ran his hands along her face. “And to think, nine months later Rose came along.”

Hermione snuggled into his chest. “So you’re hoping for that again, aren’t you?”

“That’s up to you, love. While I would never turn down another child, it’s not my decision, is it?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be on bed rest for months if I was again?”

“You weren’t with Hugo.”

“We’ll see what happens,” Hermione stood on her toes and kissed Ron again. “But first, we have to take care of the business stuff.”

Ron kissed Hermione on the nose. “I’ll get your mirror up in a moment, right after I talk with Mum and Dad.”

Ron left Hermione in her office while she considered how she was going to do her job to her standards while stuck at home for a fortnight.

Demarcation line for the win!

Ron finished with the last dish in the sink after their dinner of cottage pie and salad. The grocery budget shrunk back down to a reasonable amount once the kids went back to Hogwarts after Winter Hols. He didn’t mind since the kids had everything he lacked growing up, with enough food to feed a small army every meal for them and provided them treats from time to time as well. But the household budget would strain slightly with two teenagers eating their weight daily. How his parents managed all the kids on his Dad’s meagre salary he’d never understand except to respect his Mum and her skills.

Two small yet strong arms wrapped around his midsection, hugging her front to his back. “I’m so glad you’re home with me. I’d go completely mental if I had to spend two weeks away from you during this barmy time.”

Ron pulled Hermione to him, lifting her onto the ledge of the counter. The kids never noticed that the counters were the perfect height for him and a little tall for Hermione. She didn’t mind, not when they were still young and working too hard and grabbed a shag whenever they could manage it those early days of owning their cottage. Tonight, though, they had plenty of time on their hands. His hands went to her thighs, rubbing his calloused hands up and down her smooth skin. “I’d have walked into our quarantine to keep you company during this time. Might I remind you that our vows said In Sickness and in Health? I think this qualifies as in sickness.”

“It’s not like I even feel off. Maybe it’s that cockwomble of a PM who is an idiot.”

Ron opened her pyjama top, exposing her chest to him. It was almost 25 years after the fact and even with all of the changes to her body from having kids, the curse scar along with the gold galleon burns along her chest never faded. They’d healed up well enough but those early days, when he was still learning every square inch of her body, he’d kiss each scar, each burn spot, each memento of a moment when her bravery cost something, some bit of pain in their lives. “Fucking gorgeous,” he growled. “Damn gorgeous.”

“You’re barking,” she smiled as she worked at lifting the tee shirt up his torso, leaving small kisses on various freckles on his body. He finished the job, tossing the shirt behind him so she could appreciate his body. While he wasn’t out running with the kids daily now since his ankle ached a bit from time to time, he wasn’t a gangly teenager like he was at 14. He’d filled out some and put on some muscle on his shoulders and back which Hermione never failed to appreciate. “Deep in thought?” she asked.

Ron looked back at his wife and saw her smirk. “Yeah, just wish I’d been able to tell 14-year-old me to quit being such a tosser and that he’d eventually get the girl of his dreams.”

“You’d already had me but I had to learn to appreciate you,” She worked her hands down his lean torso, settling them on the tops of his hips. “How could I have been so stupid to not realize that you express love to people by giving your time and affection in doing things for people. Once I figured you out, I realized you’d been telling me for years how much you loved me. Once I realized that I was being selfish in thinking you had to express affection the way that I understood you so much more.” She pulled his hips close, feeling his sleep trousers straining the front. “I’m glad I pulled my thumb out.” She grinned at him before shrugging out of her top, leaving her in her skin. “And I’m glad that you put something special in.”

Ron laughed but dropped his sleep trousers, leaving him in his skin. “You mean like you want right now?” he stepped between her knee and then pulled her hips forward to the edge of the countertop.

She pulled on the back of his head down for a tempestuous kiss, feeling his excitement poking her thighs. Releasing his lips for a moment, she breathed, “here or somewhere else?”

Ron lifted his hands from the sides of her hips to her breasts, feeling the tips harden under his fingertips. “Oh we’re staying here,” He cheeked before kneeling before her. “I want dessert first.”

Hermione leaned back on the counter, holding onto the edge while Ron feasted on her tender flesh, giving her so much pleasure and joy that if she could cry, she would. Instead, she let go, embracing the vulnerability she could express with her husband. Ron was the only one on the planet who could quiet the racing raging thoughts in her head, slow down the near-constant anxiety that she had to always be the best at everything, and temper her sharp edges that so many others presumed about her.

A shudder rippled through her body followed by the frisson that she gladly welcomed, all given freely by her wonderful husband. She reached out and found the soft ginger hairs on his head and ran her fingers through them, appreciating the solid feeling under her fingertips while he used his to make her groan in ecstasy.

Another rush of pleasure coursed through each nerve in her body, leaving her quivering in the abundance of sensory overload. She would never tell anyone besides Ron but what he did for her before they had sex was her favourite part. Everything he brought to their intimate moments only magnified how much she adored him.

Two hands reached up her body to tease her breasts, pinching the tips under his well-practised fingers.

“Oh God,” She moaned and felt the jolt of pleasure erupt from her core, spreading out to her fingertips and toes.

When she could open her eyes, Ron was standing in front of her, patiently waiting for her approval. She nodded once, having lost the capability to speak anything coherent some time ago, and felt the pleasure of having his cock inside her.

“Shit, this is fucking amazing,” he kept still for a moment to make sure she was ready. Twenty plus years of making love to this wonderful man – and the shagging and, as crudely as it was factual, the fucking – she never grew tired of it. Like the loaves of bread he made for Sunday lunch for the family, he never let it grow stale or trite.

Hermione reached up to hold onto his shoulders, to have any kind of leverage while he continued to make love to her. While he might have popped off in a minute when they were much, much younger, he had stamina now to last long enough to make her satiated. Who knew that she could feel that much from a shared intimacy with this amazing man she called her husband?

“Yes, right there, feels amazing,” she praised him for every second she could articulate. Her husband thrived on being praised and told how well he was treating her. It took too many rows after they finally pulled their collective thumbs out - and some tears on her part - to realize what he needed to flourish.

“Gonna fuck you hard, Hermione, going to make you walk like a bloody bowtruckle for a week when I’m done with you,” he’d cheek back.

“Yes, please do, yes” each moment he spent driving her spare, with his hands, his manhood, his mouth, anything he could use to afford her pleasure and joy. “It’s not like anyone is going to notice us, right?”

“No one’s going to interrupt. I’ve locked the door, the Floo, and put us under a Fidelius Charm.

Ron kept going, eventually pulling her hips forward and resting her legs on her chest and her feet on his shoulders. Hermione pressed her heels into his collarbone, changing the angle he fucked her. “Yes, right there, keep going,” her praise for him only grew more incoherent, more broken as he nattered on, offering filthy comments in response to her. He understood her best of all. He was the only one who got to see her vulnerable, this candid for him.

A sheen of sweat covered both of them, rattling the cabinets and drawers underneath them. Noises echoed in the kitchen into the parlour along with the occasional groan of wood underneath Hermione’s arse. The slap of wet skin against wet skin echoed along with the growing cacophony into the cottage.

“Hermione,” Ron’s voice rumbled.

“Whenever you are,” she replied.

Ron continued for another dozen strokes, fighting like mad to hold on. He looked down at his wife and saw her tits jiggling on her breasts while one hand had slid down her slick body to where they were joined, pressing her fingertips into the crevice where her bundle of nerves was, rubbing in tight little circles.

“Oh fuck,” he growled before exploding. He pulled her hips flush to his, feeling her clenching around his length.

She groaned like the long-departed ghoul in his childhood attic, imitating a banshee with a bad cold. She shivered, not stopping even after he’d quit thrusting into her welcoming body. He pulled back, gasping for breath and stretching his back. She continued to quiver from all of the sensory overload while he hid the smug grin on his face from making her behave in such a wanton fashion.

Seconds which felt like minutes later, Ron pulled Hermione from the edge of the countertop, lifting her onto his shoulders and carried her to their couch. She scrambled off with him plopping down first followed by her cuddling into his side. She scratched the soft ginger hairs on his chest while he caught his breath.

“We get two weeks like this,” said to the top of his wife’s head. “I never expected to have daily shags ever again, not after that first summer.”

Hermione looked up and smiled before resting her head back on his chest and crossing her knee over his thighs. “I guess we should take advantage of it before everything goes pear-shaped again.”

“Would you say it’s fortunate that we got this earlier than later than everyone else?”

“Honestly? I’d rather get it and get it over with and get back to work helping the rest of our country survive this disaster.”

“Disaster?” Ron rubbed her back, feeling the hairs standing up under his fingertips. “You mean that walking fuckstrumpet of a Prime Minister for the Muggles?”

“If I thought that the populace was manipulated into voting for that sod, I’d open an inquiry. But I don’t trust the Muggles and their discernment of the propaganda that passes for the media now.”

“You’ve never trusted the media, Hermione, not after that bint Skeeter defamed you repeatedly when we were younger.”

“I recall you being shirty too after she went after our kids that one time at the Quidditch World Cup back in 2014. Good thing Ginny gave her what for on Harry’s behalf.”

Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione’s shoulders, pulling her more onto his still heaving chest.

A soft continuous thumping on the window made them turn their heads. Sure enough, it was raining but also an oversized Barn Owl was on the railing, tapping with his beak in the utter darkness.

“Merlin, can’t even enjoy the moment,” Hermione growled before getting up from Ron’s comforting embrace to stroll to the window and open it, bringing in the very wet owl inside. “I must answer this immediately, isn’t it?” she asked the owl who hooted softly. “Bugger, OK. There are rashers on the countertop for you. I’ll send this back straightaway.”

Hermione saw the MoM seal on the outside of the parchment and cracked it with a fingernail, watching the three feet unroll. She scanned the document before her eyes grew as large as tea saucers then read it again.

Ron sat up on the couch, watching his wife standing only in her skin by the window, the fireplace behind her lush arse highlighting it and silently making him drool, yet she had not a care in the world who might see her form, already engrossed in what had been sent to her. “That bad, love?”

Hermione turned her face back to Ron and saw the thunderheads rolling across her face. “That bloody PM didn’t bother to listen to the Muggle doctors and is being admitted to the hospital tonight. The sod has left that other tosser - “

“He’s the bloke that looks like he was used for quaffle target practice, right?”

“That’s the one.” She took a deep breath. “That means I’m now the Shadow Minister, temporarily. The real Shadow Minister is also under quarantine.”

“But so are we, right?”

Hermione’s smile erupted. “Nothing like a bubblehead charm to go into work, which I, unfortunately, must do for an hour early tomorrow morning. That Ruddy idiot wants to talk about the state of the Ministry before going forward at 7 am.”

Ron stood up from the couch, looking fanciable and fit in his skin. Four strides and he was next to her, swallowing her up in an enormous hug. “I guess that means we need to get to bed so you can sleep, right?”

Hermione looked up at Ron, his beard shining like gold in the amber lights of the fire in the locked fireplace. “Eventually, love. I would prefer round two.”

Ron turned, pulling her with him as he walked back to their bedroom. “Round two, huh?”

“I need to work this stress off and you’re the medicine I need tonight.”

#Dragon's fic #hpfic #Romione #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #Not Ace Safe #Citrus Warning #M Rated #18 rated #While Minister Hermione isn't my fave #the idea stuck with me #I ran with it #yes I used the word cockwomble #Posted late so the 2 minors who follow might not notice #Not like they don't know what adults do behind closed doors #Queue Up for the Dragon

17 notes · View notes

summerspn · 4 years

Text

Felicity

Tv series (1998-2002)

Spoilers...

I’ve gradually been watching Felicity for the past few months & have completed watching the series. I gotta say it’s charming & oddly addictive.

At the beginning of the series Felicity (Keri Russell) is an extremely shy & introverted character. She’s adorable. We see her proudly graduating high school but also feeling some trepidation about it. Naturally.

She sees her high school crush, Ben Covington, (Scott Speedman) at their high school graduation & decides to just go & talk to him. She regretted not getting to know him before. So she fixes that. Her yearbook had some sort of printing issue so they gave it to her on graduation day. So she asks Ben to sign her yearbook.

Surprisingly he sits down & writes a very thoughtful message to her. It’s sweet & inspiring. She decides to follow him to New York & she gets into NYU.

In tv land one can get into school in just a couple months - ya know completely ignoring the hundreds of people waitlisted lol That made me chuckle when watching. No big deal though.

Felicity gets to school & realizes Ben was just a nice guy & wasn’t in love with her of course. So she gets a bit of a reality check.

She makes a few friends & lives in the biggest dorm room on the history of planet Earth!

My room in my old dorm was ‘big’ and it had 3 feet of space between the beds...much bigger than my sister’s dorm lol

Felicity is likeable because she’s sweet, smart, shy & confused & just trying to figure her life out. All she knew is she didn’t want med school as her parents kept trying to shove it down her throat.

Ben is a nice guy who struggles with feeling stupid sometimes (though is actually really smart). He struggled with some of his classes & lacks a clear path for his major.

Occasionally Ben has these lines & that message in the yearbook which made me stop & go ‘you’re a writer’. I kept thinking he was going to become a writer...then in season four he decides to be a doctor. Okay...it was an alright decision & I like his academic plot lines in season 4 so no real complaints there.

We meet Noel Crane (Scott Foley)who is super dreamy. He’s smart, nice, outspoken but sensitive. A straight laced student & Resident Advisor (RA) who becomes Felicity’s friend & has a crush on her.

Throughout the series that’s the love triangle. It was interesting but there was far too much emphasis on it. Often it overshadowed the more interesting storylines on the show, IMO.

Noel pines for Felicity & loses sight of his life then soon graduates without a plan then later develops depression. I thought that was a great storyline. Noel’s family history of depression was compelling & how the character described it was very well done.

Back then tv shows didn’t talk about mental illness but this was handled delicately.

Noel gets help & gets better. He gets his life back on track, pursuing his dream of graphic design. There’s a line where he gets teased for liking computers...ya know as only ‘nerds’ like that stuff 😂

Felicity’s roommate Meghan Rotundi (Amanda Foreman) is a bit of a goth/Wicca practitioner. Every other character wear clothes I assume that are from The Gap so Meghan looks very different in her black mesh clothes & dark makeup. Nice contrast but I feel like Meghan’s development was overlooked for the most part of the series. She’s very blunt, unapologetic, sometimes mean...but she also cares for others even though she’ll deny it.

In her romantic life there’s growth but not academically. It’s only in the end of the last season does she realize she wants to pursue psychiatry. I think there were some missed opportunities there.

Though I will say I like that her uptight parents accept her for her quirks & clothing choices.

Sean Blumberg (Greg Grunberg) ...I have mixed feelings about his character. He’s an ambitious inventor & sort-of businessman. He owns a loft where Ben sublets /shares with him. Sean’s nice, caring & excitable. He’s also several years older. Around 5 or 6yrs difference I think.

His age difference was brought up several times, as if it were supposed to be important. In my last year of school I lived with a woman who was 15 years older than me. So what? Not a big deal. I’m not sure why the show kept pointing it out.

The only issue with his age is that at one point he’s 27 and STILL has no steady job. None! He’s all-in with his inventions that make no money & his family isn’t rich so how does that work now? He has a loft in New York with zero income? One episode talked of him owing money but come on, get rid of the loft, downsize then get a job, even if part time. *sigh*.

At the start of the series I liked Sean but then they turned him into a pathetic leech who gets mad & throws tantrums easily. He became incredibly annoying.

When I was near the end of the series I started to think that Sean would actually make a good salesman. Imagine him trying to sell cars, just the right amount of pushy. Though they put an episode in that made him look like a buffoon when making a sales pitch. So I feel like the writers were confused or trying to sabotage his character because he still ends up leeching off his buddy Noel & they end up business partners. 🤷‍♀️

Sean & Meghan date & eventually marry. I thought they were cute together at first but not as long term. I feel like Meghan would murder him due to being sick of his shit.

Elena Tyler (Tangi Miller) becomes a good friend to Felicity. All the ladies care for each other a great deal. Elena is very intelligent & a hard worker. She had a few romances & nearly got married. But I’ll be honest I found her boring. Not sure why. I think the most interesting part of her character was that she chose not to marry her fiancé Tracy. I thought it was a very smart move. And I found her background with her mom interesting but they didn’t do much with that.

Richard Coad starts out as an annoying member of the dorm. He & Noel become friends then later gets befriended by the group. Richard is a neurotic, blunt talking mess. He’s somehow still kinda adorable though does have some rough spots. I really liked him up through season 3. Season 4 he was in much less and then the writers turned him into a racist moron. Even if he had those thoughts I feel like his character would be more subtle & not as rude due to his overly developed sense of self preservation. Plus he’s not stupid, just blunt & a bit disconnected.

He did apologize but still it felt just so...wrong. Out of character even.

In any case I think the writers should have made him a little more like Rob Benedict, the actor who played him. Rob’s loveable.

Javier Quintata (Ian Gomez) is the owner at the coffee shop Dean & Deluca. He’s the boss but becomes very close with everyone, especially Felicity. I really liked him at first. Eventually his personal favours become outlandish & his stories started to make my eyes roll.

He & his devoted husband break up over non-issues. Why? It added nothing to the plot. Javier also wants to pursue acting at NYU. He’s really not good so it came off as a dumb idea & all scenes in acting class become annoying. I feel like the writers didn’t know what to do with him. I’d have preferred if he pursued a different dream- one that made sense. Like maybe all the years working with coffee & pastries inspires him to want to be a chef? 🤷‍♀️

Felicity. Throughout the series she’s shy, gradually getting more of a backbone. She admits to loving art & wants to pursue it. Her parents constantly pull her down , try to talk her out if it, even bully & manipulate her. She is for the most part uncompromising. I loved that! She held her ground & from a person like her, who always kept the peace at the expense of her own happiness, that’s amazing.

We see her grow though she spends far too much time angst-ing over Ben & Noel. Often she seems tortured with very few moments of being free & having fun.

I loved how in season 4 she befriends fellow artist Owen. I feel like that was huge. I loved how they went to galleries together & talked about their art & life. It was refreshing. I love that Felicity’s honours art class was so important to her & everything around that plot.

I hated however, how she always put others first.

So...I have to mention Felicity’s haircut from Season 2. I didn’t find it that bad...but apparently Keri Russell got death threats from it. Complete insanity!

Though I do think as it was 1999 back then, people were more uptight with personal style. If she had dyed her hair pink instead people would have flipped out too.

I do think there were better hair styles to choose from though. I think if she had a cut her hair to chin length & straightened it it could look pretty & still have a big impact. Something like that.

But honestly it’s just hair. I had a horrible haircut one year in university but it grew out on a few months & was fine. No big deal....but I wasn’t on tv so no one cared I guess 🤷‍♀️

In the ‘series finale’ , Felicity abruptly chooses medicine. Why??? That uncompromising love for painting just gone....And back to medicine? I wanted her to be an artist!

Every artist has a day job to support them. Felicity was acting like she was going to starve because she couldn’t sell her paintings.

I wish they found her a day job she really liked to support herself. I wanted her to be all-in.

Or they could find her a middle ground. That internship at the architectural firm, she could have realized she wanted to be an architect or something. Something other than medicine.

I really like though that she chose herself finally. Then Ben follows her to school. That was perfect. I just wished she didn’t want to be a doctor. I feel like that goes against everything she wanted.

Overall a great series. I love how they approach mental health - Felicity’s too. She was getting therapy regularly. It was nice to see. Very healthy.

I like JJ Abrams’ work but I (like everyone else) question the last several episodes. Nonsensical & out of place.

Personally I think the show should have put less emphasis on the romantic relationships & drama & more on self discovery by all characters. That’s more interesting...then sprinkle in a few moments here and there. A few episodes on love etc each season. We didn’t need the constant longing looks & drama of Will they won’t they.

I know I’m in a minority when it comes to such things but I feel the media - tv & movies especially focus WAY too much on the romance.

Then of course people like me who are borderline Asexual (except when it comes to fictional characters lol), I find it exhausting to always be bombarded with romance from all angles. However, if Felicity (and other shows) just used it occasionally & not every single episode I wouldn’t mind.

It’s just hard to care about a show if it just feels like it’s only about relationships and not much about life. But that’s just me.

The storylines that had me intensely interested in this show were:

- Ben’s relationship with his dad

- Ben gaining self confidence & realizing he’s actually smart

- Noel’s graphic designs & career

- Noel’s mental health

- Meghan’s rebellious nature & wanting to see what happens when she gets over the need to rebel (though we didn’t see much of it).

- Felicity’s parents’ attitude - I wanted them to see that they were wrong & admit it to her (though they don’t) 😞

- Wanting to see Richard find something he was really interested in & good at (which never happened)

- Wanting Felicity to have fun! Random silliness or parties...they rarely partied or did weird outings to things like paintball or bowling. College is for doing a million things. I wish tv land would do more if this

- Wanting Felicity to stop making decisions because of her love interests

- Wanting Felicity to go on a summer trip or internship to Europe on her own (never happened)

- Wanting Felicity to choose art (also didn’t happen) & support herself with either a job she simply likes (dog waking, tutoring, retail etc) or something in the art field (art therapy, illustrator etc)

To me these should have been the priorities & add romance occasionally...

But overall the series was good. The acting was really good from everyone. Even minor characters had pretty good actors. So well done!

The actors are great in other projects too. Keri Russell was in The Americans, even the Rise of Skywalker. Never saw them but I heard great things. Personally I really liked her in Austenland, August Rush, Mission Impossible 3 (small but great role), and I LOVED her in the movie Waitress.

Definitely give the actors a watch in other projects, even if you have mixed feelings about them in Felicity. They’re all good.

15 notes · View notes

rinusagitora · 5 years

Text

The love, lead, and the undead.

Fandom: Monster Prom

Characters: Vicky Schmidt, Damien LaVey, Brian Yu, Oz, Zoe

Pairings: Brian/Damien/Vicky, Oz/Zoe, platonic Brian/Oz/Zoe

Words: 4.3k

Summary: Canon divergent. Chapter 3/?. WARNINGS— smut, alcoholism, depression, mentions of csa, childhood abuse, medical horror; Brian, Damien, and Vicky get together, but Vicky always has a reason to be nervous.

Brian spent a lot of time with Oz and Zoe. Their company was a pleasant reprieve from the hypermasculine mores of the football team. Besides, they engaged him pretty frequently. It was less like Brian crashed a date and more like three friends went out together and it was completely coincidental that two of them were an item.

Their company was healthy, Brian’s therapist told him weeks ago. He continued to struggle with depression even in undeath. The effort required for him to try anything was enormous. He didn’t watch television, he just stared at it. He slept through class. He winged it during games because he couldn’t remember Couch’s strategy. While Brian’s therapist was impressed with his ability to improvise, Brian needed emotional and mental enrichment. He was ill, possibly disabled, and he couldn’t do it on his own. That was where Oz and Zoe unknowingly came in.

While Brian felt a bit like he was a horse after a salt block stuck in a toy thanks to his therapist’s analogy, they were right. Oz and Zoe were good-natured and excitable, and they kept him grounded, even with their quirks. Who wouldn’t have gone a little looney if they were a timeless abomination? Brian was only in his twenties and he was already a fucking basket case.

Brian’s therapist-voice reminded him that wasn’t very fair to himself.

He appreciated their company, but he hurt too. It was better than the nothingness.

Brian wasn’t necessarily jealous of them. He was jealous of what they had: open and unabashed love. Oz adored Zoe and all her fiction, and Zoe adored Oz and all his crazy conspiracies. Meanwhile, Brian got to switch between selfies he had with Damien and Vicky for his lock screen because he didn’t have a picture of the three of them together. Brian felt pretty awful about his indecision. Vicky slept around in search of love, and Brian wasn’t what she deserved. Damien was active and vibrant, and Brian couldn’t have kept up. They deserved someone affectionate and engaged.

They deserved better. Brian smothered his therapist-voice.

Oz looked over his shoulder. The way he turned all the way around made Brian wonder if Oz had a spine. “Hey, you’re awfully quiet. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes. I was just wondering whether or not I want to go to the bar after this.”

"Oh, I wanna go drinking!” Zoe chirped. “I saw this spring break movie and everyone was drinking until they couldn’t walk straight and it looked like sooo much fun and there were a ton of really cute boys.”

“That’s not how a normal bar works, but I’m down for a drink after this,” Oz replied.

It was Brian’s turn to buy tickets and Zoe took care of the snacks. The movie was likable, at least.

Brian looked through the corner of his eye. Zoe was curled up against Oz. His legs were folded and Zoe had draped one of her appendages over his lap. She lovingly stroked his cheek. They were so stupidly in love, it went straight to his motherfucking chest like a knife. Why couldn’t he have what they had? Why couldn’t he settle on just an average Joe to cuddle with? Instead, he wanted Damien and Vicky, he wanted them so badly he would have riveted himself to their sides. He wanted Vicky’s waist in his arm, he wanted Damien’s lips on his neck.

Brian suddenly braced the bar top with a full glass of bottom-shelf vodka under his nose. He quickly downed the entire glass. The burn came seconds later.

Oz sat next to Brian. “No offense, but you look like shit.”

“I just wanna get hammered right now.”

Oz slapped his hand over the top of Brian’s glass a split second before the bartender refilled his drink. Brian gave him a dirty look.

“No. There’s something on your mind, and we’re gonna stay here, sober, until you spill it.”

“I’m fine,” Brian grumbled.

“I’ll keep it between us. I promise. But you’re my friend, I won’t let you abuse your body like this.”

Brian swallowed a thick lump in his throat. It didn’t do much. “Promise?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Everyone has someone special and I’m left out. You and Zoe were practically made for each other. Me? I’m miserable. I hate myself so much, I can’t choose who I love more: Damien or Vicky. If I was to tell either of them how I feel, I’d hurt them because I’d still be pining for the other, and I won’t ask them to both go out with me. That’s so selfish and perverted. But these feelings are gnawing at my insides the more I try to ignore them. I don’t want to keep feeling this, miserable, lonely, self-loathing.”

“Oh, Brian,” Oz said. “I’m so sorry. I won’t patronize you by telling you it gets better. It will, but it’s more important to me right now that you understand how fantastic you are. You are driven and fun, Brian. I love every minute I spend with you. There are people like me who want to be with you.”

Brian wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I wish I had a doll I could just take out of my closet when I need it and put it away when I’m done.”

“That’s not good enough for you. You deserve company; brilliant, fun companionship like yourself.” Oz rubbed Brian’s back. “Look. You don’t know how Damien and Vicky feel about you. You haven’t spoken to them in weeks, Brian. Maybe they’re okay welcoming you in as an equal partner. I know Damien at least used to be into you. Maybe that hasn’t changed.”

“No, I can’t. I’m a terrible friend. I’m just gonna bum them out.”

“Like you bum me and Zoe out?”

Oz’s argument made Brian pause. “I don’t know.”

“Humor me. Just ask them out, Brian.”

He nodded. “I will. Thank you, Oz. I think I’m gonna head home though. Tell Zoe I said goodnight.”

“I will. Goodnight, Brian.”

—

“Are you sure you want me to go home? My dads won’t mind if I stick around.” Damien asked. He lingered in front of her door as if it stormed outside. His concern touched Vicky, but she needed some time to mellow out from their fight because her wrist hurt from when she hit Damien earlier, and she didn’t want to seem like she wanted to keep Damien from his family.

“I’ll be okay,” Vicky said, “I love you, Damien.”

“Well, I love you too, but,”

“It’s okay, really,” she reassured him. “I need to call Vera anyways. Normally, I wouldn’t mind talking on the phone around you, but crime things might come up, and I’d rather not get you involved in felony conspiracy.”

“Well, okay. I love you. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Damien replied. He hugged her. She held his face, and she kissed him. He kissed her fingers before he left.

With her apartment to herself, Vicky popped in a set of earbuds and dialed Vera’s number.

“How’d it go?” Vera asked.

“We made up. It got a little heated and I hit Damien after I let you go, but he doesn’t seem mad. I just feel awful about the whole thing. I’ve never had an episode like that.”

“What happened anyway?”

“Just… when I was a kid, my dad got into an accident, and I ended up dying. I was reanimated by one of his uncles. He experimented on me for a long time. When he died, his brother took me in. I… was taken advantage of there. And beaten. It got to the point where it was easier to jerk him off because at least he was nice then.”

“Damien was asking about my death. I don’t mind, he just… started prying into the whole thing and I remembered everything and completely imploded.”

“Dear God, I’m going to ream him a new hole tomorrow.”

“There’s no need. I shouldn’t have kept it a secret.“

“He still should’ve been more compassionate. That’s a sensitive topic, especially with your history. He’s so fucking stupid. God, I wish I saw what you did.”

“Well, I hit him hard enough that I think I strained my wrist, so….”

“Fine. Just… red flags, hun. I like Damien and all, but you’re not healthy, and he needs to be aware of that.”

“I know, Vera. Thank you. I need to hit the sack, though. Goodnight.”

“Alright. I’ll see you later.”

—

A day passed since Vicky’s first fight with Damien. They were out for dinner because Vicky forgot to eat breakfast and she gave Scott her lunch since he forgot to eat breakfast too. Vicky’s endless pancakes were half-eaten beside Damien’s fritters.

“So… Brian,” Vicky began, "I don’t suppose you’ve talked to him about us.”

“No. I haven’t seen Brian in weeks, actually.”

“Me neither…. We should talk to him, though. This is something important to you.”

“I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“Whatever happens, we’ll work through it.”

Damien smiled. “Thanks.”

“So… how do you wanna go about this, then?” Vicky tried to approach everything with a plan. Few things were done without a detailed outline of her goals and the steps of which to achieve them. If something went awry, she still had an endgame and a clear strategy to tweak. Her technique was necessary when she and Vera held up banks. Adaptability was essential, but winging it was dangerous.

Damien did not share Vicky’s viewpoint.

“Babe, we can literally just ask Brian out on a date.”

“I’m not gonna go up to him and ask if he wants to go out with us. He’s gonna feel like an afterthought. Or a fucking sex toy.”

“You like being a sex toy, though.”

“Because I know you still care about me. I know I’m more than just a sex toy because you’ve defended my honor and my life in the past. I know because we’ve been good friends for months and months. We, the two of us, haven’t established the same trust with Brian. If we just ask him out, he’s gonna think the only thing we want out of him is a threeway. But I like him. Well, I like the idea of him, at least, but that’s another matter entirely. What’s more important is that he should feel like an equal, valued member.”

“… Vicky. I appreciate your sensitivity, it’s one of my favorite things about you, but you realize a date only translates to sex with me and douchebags, right? We’re asking him out on a date. Not a fetish ball.”

“Wait, what now?”

“Fetish balls. They’re like… demonstrations of certain kinks, but it’s a party. Sometimes they’re orgies.”

“What kind of fetishes?”

“All kinds. I’ll get us tickets when the next one rolls around,“ Damien replied.

“No, I digress!” she squawked. “Okay. We can ask him directly, but we have to let him know we’re asking him because we’re emotionally invested in him.”

Damien’s phone blasted a pop song. The caller ID displayed Brian’s name and Damien looked like he just shat himself. “What do I do?” he whispered hurriedly like Brian was within earshot.

“Answer it! Act natural!”

Damien picked up the call. “Top o’ the morning to ya!”

Vicky wanted to throttle Damien. Nonetheless, she pressed her ear to his phone to listen in.

“Hi, Damien,” Brian said. “I know this is a weird thing to ask, especially this late, but…” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

“I… I really like you. I like Vicky too. Scott tells me you’re together now and I know how fucking bizarre this is, but I want to go out with the two of you. Dinner, a movie, whatever you guys want. I really just want time with you.”

Vicky’s mouth hung open. Damien looked over to her, helpless, and she furiously nodded.

“I-I have her here with me. We’d love to go, Brian. Let’s see Head Huntress tomorrow night at seven.”

“That works great. I’ll pick you up at Vicky’s.”

“Great, we’ll see you then.”

Before Damien even hung up, he whipped around and squeezed Vicky in a tight hug. “I can’t believe that just fucking happened! I can’t believe we have a fucking date with Brian!” He kissed her fiercely. “You’re amazing, you know. I love you so much.”

Vicky returned Damien’s embrace. “I love you too, and I’m so glad we have this opportunity.” That was all Vicky wanted, to make Damien the happiest man ever, after all.

—

Vicky held up her skirt and held a pair of lace panties against the polka-dotted pair she wore. Normally, she didn’t concern herself with the lingerie she wore, but she still felt guilty about her fight with Damien, and somehow, her guilt and libido were intertwined.

"Wear the lace one,” Damien said. He sat on her bed with his ankles crossed. “But you don’t have to… to fuck us, you know. I mean I’m not complaining if you’re horny, I’m always down for a blowjob, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to. Especially since everything kinda just crashed down the other day.”

"It’s more complicated than that.” She slipped off her panties. “I like having sex. I like the feeling, and I like the attention I get from it. But sometimes I’m in so much pain, I use it to distract myself, or make myself feel better. It’s situational.”

“Is this what you’re doing now?”

Yes. “No. Brian’s just hot and I want him to stuff his face in my pussy when he sees my underwear,” she lied.

“I know they make me want to stuff my face in your pussy.” Damien held her from behind and kissed her neck. “Are we almost ready to go?”

“I thought Brian was picking us up.”

“He’s outside.”

“And you waited this long to tell me?”

“I’m sorry,” Damien said. He pulled her to the curb where Brian idled his pickup truck. That time of year, it was dark, and his yellow headlights were oddly haunting. Vicky climbed into the back and she felt woefully overdressed. Damien and Brian both wore jeans and tees.

She felt… dirty, like she was about to explain her pricing to him.

"Hey, there,” Brian said. “How’s it going?”

“I’m having a good time,” Damien said. Vicky nodded, suddenly breathless. What the hell made her so anxious out of the blue?

They arrived at the movie theatre. Tickets and concessions were the kind of blur where Vicky smelled popcorn, blinked, and then they were ten minutes into the movie. Damien held her hand. His thumb stroked her knuckles. It made her want to cry. She was such a dramatic, selfish toddler. The second Damien hadn’t paid her attention, she combusted because she was a hypocritical brat. She fucked whoever she wanted, but she couldn’t take what she dished, and her loved ones had to pay the price.

When the movie ended, Damien stretched in the lobby. “I need to take a leak. Why don’t we go bar hopping once we’re done here?”

“I could go for a drink,” Brian replied. “See you in a second.”

Vicky mulled around next to Brian. He stood with his hands tucked in his pockets. Generally, he was stoic, it was hard to get a read on him, if at all possible.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked.

“What? No,” Vicky said. “I’m sorry. I think I’m coming down with a head cold.”

Brian combed back his hair. “I didn’t mean to drop off the planet. I just felt pretty bad about this whole thing. I didn’t want to make you guys feel like you were playing second fiddle or something. I still don’t want that.”

She smiled. "I know.” She ought to be honest with Brian, nonetheless. “I’m just… sick, emotionally. I want Damien to be happy, but I can’t help feeling like a third wheel, in a whorish way.” She held herself. “Some things happened to me years ago. I got into a fight about it with Damien the other day and… I’m still coming down, I guess.”

“I understand. I’m the same way. Oz had to twist my arm to get me to call you guys. I was miserable before I died, and I’m still struggling now.” Brian held her fingers like she was thin ceramic. “I want to burden your pain with you, though.”

Vicky looked him square in the eye. “I was sexually abused and experimented on when I was a kid. I have nightmares. I bury my feelings with sex. Sometimes, when I think back on it, I completely shut down. Just the other day, Damien and Vera had to deal with that. I couldn’t remember who Damien was. I thought my abuser was still a part of my life. Do you want to deal with that? Me dissociating? Screaming about how awful you are?”

“When I was a kid, I watched my mom overdose. I was shipped foster home to foster home until I ran away when I was sixteen. I have nightmares from when I was hitchhiking. I have scars. I’ve only been able to look at them for a couple of months without wanting to claw my eyeballs out. I overdosed and rot away in a ditch until I was reanimated by this bastard wizard who used me as a guinea pig. I was turned inside out a couple of times. Do you wanna deal with me tossing and turning in the middle of the night because I’m having nightmares?”

Vicky squeezed his hands. “I’m so sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to minimize your pain, but I’m so glad you’re with us now.” They were Brian’s family. Anything which dared harm him had better prepared to meet her assault rifles.

“I’m glad I’m with you,” he said. He pulled Vicky into a hug. She held his waist, and she felt better. Like there was no second fiddle. Like she wasn’t a novelty whore. “You two make me want to feel things again. I bury everything with alcohol, but I don’t think I’d mind cutting back if you guys were behind me.“

She smiled. “Thank you.”

Damien returned from the bathroom. “We need to hurry to the bar! My pee isn’t opaque.”

“Too much information,” Vicky groaned. She wasn’t opposed to a drink, however. Maybe she’d get some crazy drunk sex in the bathroom.

—

Brian and Vicky hauled Damien inside with his arms around their shoulders. Vicky was less than sober herself, but at least she cared to walk. Damien wanted to kiss her ear instead.

“This way to my bedroom,” she told Brian.

They dropped Damien onto her bed. She pried off his shoes before he pulled her on top of him. “Vicky wore sexy underwear and we let it go to waste, Brian,” he said. Vicky giggled as he reached under her shirt.

“C’mon, less horny, more sleepy,” Brian said.

“Are you really drunk enough that you can’t get wood?” Damien groaned. “Buuuullshiiiiiiit, I had like… ten times what you did and I’ve been rockin’ it for an hour.”

“I can get it up just fine, I’m just not comfortable fucking someone so drunk they can’t walk.”

“I can walk, I just didn’t want to. She’s so soooo pretty.”

Vicky held Damien up as Brian removed his jacket. When they finally got it off, Damien fell, and he reached up to unbutton Brian’s pants. “C'mon, let’s have some fun, baby.”

“No,” Brian swat Damien away, albeit unsuccessfully since Damien pried him out of his boxers and kissed the underside of his cock. Brian shuddered. “You’re impossible,“ he grunted.

Damien licked and licked. Vicky watched with rapt attention: the way his Adam’s apple bobbed, the way Brian reluctantly caved in and pulled up his shirt for Damien. Damien was always so violent, so commandeering, it was unexpected to see him fawn over anything phallic, let alone an actual phallus. The penis was always something Vicky groveled to. She enjoyed it, but on the other hand, she loathed the pain it caused her and the power it had over her.

The scene awoke something in Vicky.

Brian held Damien’s head and slipped his cock into his throat. It bulged against his trachea. Vicky held his neck with one hand and pumped his cock with the other. Damien gagged, but he seemed to like it since he played with her through her clothes.

Damien popped Brian’s cock out of his mouth. "Fuck,” he gasped. Vicky worried for a second until he pumped Brian with his fist and licked the precum off the head. “Let’s get naked real quick.” Their clothes were quickly discarded. When they finished, Damien pushed Vicky onto the pillows and positioned her so his head was between her legs and his ass was groin-level with Brian. He looked back at Brian. “C'mon, I’ve wanted this forever, now.”

Brian’s eyes bugged out of his head. Vicky laughed. She rummaged through her nightstand, and then she tossed Brian condoms and lube. Damien stripped her panties as Brian applied lube to himself and Damien.

Brian pressed himself into Damien. They groaned in unison. Damien’s fingers dug into her hips, he rested his forehead against her bladder.

“Damien, are you alright?” Vicky asked.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Brian, you’re fucking enormous.”

Vicky almost wanted to give Damien a thumbs up. Anal sex wasn’t easy, especially if it was something large packed in there.

Nonetheless, Damien told Brian to go on. He turned his face back into Vicky’s crotch, and before he dove in, he smiled and licked his lips, as if he starved for her pussy even a day without it. It filled Vicky’s gut with heat again. Damien latched onto her clitoris, and he was furious as Brian was as he thrust into his pelvis. She grabbed his horn and smiled at Brian. Surely, it was an unbelievable visage, the objects of his infatuation intertwined while he fucked them. Brian whimpered, he grabbed Damien by the base of his tail, and Vicky realized Damien watched her, with his golden, fluorescent eyes, and his brows knit together. He blinked asynchronously as if Brian fucked him so hard he malfunctioned.

“Get in there,” she told Damien. He groaned as she used his horn as a handle to rub him against her groin. He pumped his cock with one hand as he used to other to hold her open for his mouth. He plunged his tongue into her, she hissed with elation as he rubbed the roof of her cavern.

Damien choked. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, he tremored. She felt his warm cum hit the back of her legs. Brian shortened and quickened his hip thrusts to milk every ounce of delight out of Damien.

Finally, Brian pulled out, discarded his condom, and kissed Damien’s neck before he laid him aside and crawled towards Vicky on his knees.

He looked hungry, she thought. Her breath picked up with anticipation.

“Let’s get you taken care of,” he said as he pulled her legs over his shoulders. She wordlessly stared into his eyes.

Brian awkwardly positioned himself and then pushed inside of her. She moaned. His cock curved up, it reminded Vicky of a banana, and with every thrust, it rubbed all the right places. She melted like Damien did. Her eyes rolled back, she filled the bedroom with her noisy rapture. Damien, once he caught his breath, held her by her neck and kissed her. Normally, Vicky wasn’t one for the taste of her own cum, but the entire situation overwhelmed her senses. Everything made her groan and moisten.

“Please,” she quietly begged Brian, “fuck me harder.”

Brian pushed Damien out of the way. He clutched her head with their bodies flush and fucked her hard enough the bedframe creaked like music. Her nails dug into his back. His teeth sunk into her neck. Vicky was in Heaven, so close to the edge of Paradise.

She climaxed quickly. Brian filled her like a hose, and her legs trembled uncontrollably.

Brian fell onto her. He kissed her bolts. “Stay for a second,” she told him as her chest heaved. Disobediently, he pulled out, and his cum oozed onto her sheets. “Dammit.”

“Sorry,” Brian said. He grabbed the tissues on her nightstand and wiped the excess of cum off her. She would have rather he left it, but her sheets must have appreciated his cleanliness. “I meant to come on you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t have internal reproductive organs, so I can’t get pregnant.”

“Well, I shoot blanks, so I’m less concerned about pregnancy and more concerned about smearing cum everywhere,” Brian replied.

“Well, thank you,” she said.

Brian rolled over and sighed pleasantly. Damien kissed them both. “You guys are amazing,” he said. Both Brian and Damien’s arms were thrown across Vicky’s waist. It wasn’t claustrophobic. She felt adored. Sated. She wished she had more mouths to kiss her boyfriends with.

“Y’know, my parents want to meet you guys,” Damien said.

Was Vicky not pinned by a set of heavy arms, she would have jumped out of bed in surprise. It felt like a hot ball of lead was punted into her belly. It made her throat swell.

“Since when?” Brian asked.

“My dad Stan texted me when we were in the movie. He’s wondering if tomorrow works for you guys to come down to Hell.”

“Sure,” Brian said.

“Me too,” Vicky agreed.

Nonetheless, Vicky was nervous…. The kings of Hell were sure to look down on a lowly whore and robber like herself. She almost wanted to beg Damien to reconsider. She knew she wasn’t good enough for a prince with a future more enormous than anything she was destined for. Damien’s fathers were sure to despise her. They were sure to boot her to the curb.

But Brian and Damien promised to shoulder the hard times with her. She convinced herself, well after her boyfriends drifted off to sleep, that she would wait to see how it turned out.

#monster prom #vicky schmidt #brian yu #damien lavey #oz monster prom #zoe monster prom #brian/damien/vicky #oz/zoe #platonic brian/oz/zoe

26 notes · View notes