#(maybe i would have paid more attention in my statistics class if he was the one teahcing it XDD)

[echobx]

soulmates 1 - jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: y/n is on a double date with her boyfriend when she runs into her actual soulmate

warnings: none

word count: 3.5k

author's note: idk what to say

masterlist

In a world where you could hear your soulmate's thoughts, as long as they were thinking about you, as long as they were at least 16, it was still very difficult to find them. Most people would go their whole lives without even meeting the person they were connected to, most people had found their peace with it, and so had you…

“I'm taking you out for lunch,” your boyfriend, Kelce, pressed a kiss to your cheek. You had never heard his thoughts, but that was okay. Maybe you were secretly sad about it, but a lot of people had the same issues as you. You had anticipated your sixteenth birthday like any other kid, but even more so because your parents were soulmates, having grown up together they had gotten lucky. But you weren't blessed with the same luck. This wouldn't mean that you didn't love your boyfriend. No, Kelce was nice and sweet and loved to show you off to his Kook friends.  The split between Kooks and Pogues had never been to your favor. Your parents were hardworking middle class, too poor to be Kooks, too wealthy to be Pogues. 

“Where are we going?” You smiled at him. “Country Club, haven't been there in a while, especially with you.” He smirked and you had to laugh.  “I see, you just wanna show me off,” you giggled, not at all foreign to the concept. You got up and tugged on your dress to make it fall evenly.  “You are so beautiful,” he complimented you and leaned down into a kiss.  You were an uneven couple, everyone could see it, but you didn't mind it at all. You knew that they all just saw him as the rich kid that got in fights with Pogues because he couldn't keep his mouth shut. But to you, he was kind and loving and just the best boyfriend you could wish for. He made you forget that you weren't even soulmates.  “Will the others be there?” you asked while the two of you walked out of his house and towards his car.  “Just Topper and I think his new girlfriend. He's been so up my ass ever since Sarah dumped him for that Pogue John B. I hope the new one will help,” Kelce said and held your door open so you could get in.  “I hope he can forget about Sarah, it's not like they were soulmates,” you noted while he got in too. “Right?”  “I don't know, he never told me,” Kelce shrugged and started driving. 

It had been a real scandal when the Kook princess had run off with the Pogue, no one could understand why she would do such a thing, but to you, it was clear. You didn't have to look at them twice when you saw them around town, they were clearly meant for each other, they had gotten lucky.  You hoped that you might find your person once you moved away to college. The statistical probability of finding your soulmate in a close radius to your home was pretty low. That's why multiple companies were now making big profits with the desperation of people who just wanted to be happy. They created apps and websites to “help” you find “the one”, but even those only helped in about 30% of the cases.  All in all, your chances were pretty low, but you had just turned 17, and had been with Kelce for only three months. Your life was still ahead of you, your chances were still not completely low. But you also told yourself to not hope, to not get caught up in the search because you didn't want to end up like the people they sometimes showed on TV. 

“… and then he just hits a hole in one on the last game, can you believe it?” Kelce laughed, and you realized that you hadn't paid any attention to his story.  “Impressive,” you note and smile at him.  “Yeah, but God, I miss that guy.” It took you a moment to figure out that he was talking about Rafe. Rafe Cameron, Kook prince, technically after the death of his father Ward, the new Kook King, but you didn't care so much about semantics. He had left Kildare, where to, you didn't know, but you knew he was out for the big money, just like his dad.  You reached for your boyfriend's hand and held it, hoping he would find some sort of solace in your touch. You hadn't known Rafe well either, you still didn't know many of Kelce’s friends because you had mostly been focused on each other at the start.  “I think he's gonna come back.” Your words gave him a bit of hope, and he smiled before parking the car. 

Kelce got out and opened the door for you, like he always did, like a gentleman would. “Chivalry is a must,” your mom had always told you. From a young age on, she had made sure that you knew your worth and held your standards up high.  “Thank you,” you blushed as he closed the door again and pulled you into his side.  “We're going all out, sugar. Double dates deserve some extravaganza,” he chuckled.  “Oh, how darling of you,” you said in a pretentious voice, and the two of you laughed even more. It was easy with Kelce, he made you feel good about yourself, and you had wished nothing more than for him to be your one and only. 

You walked inside and someone guided you to your table, Topper and his new girlfriend, Sheila, already sitting there.  “I'm sorry for being late,” you apologized to Top and gave him a quick hug before sitting down opposite of him.  “Oh no, we were just a little early,” he brushed it off and then started talking to Kelce about a new boat he wanted to buy.  You would've talked to Sheila if her eyes hadn't been fixed on the waiter. 

He was tall, had blond tousled hair and his shirt sat tightly on his body, showing off that he had muscles although looking rather lean compared to Kelce.  ‘Not bad,’ you thought to yourself, and his head perked up, and he started looking around. ‘Just a coincidence, nothing more, there are many people here who are thinking about him. He's working, of course you think about your waiter. Hell, Sheila hasn't been able to even take her eyes off him and Topper doesn't even notice,’ you had turned back to looking at Kelce, not noticing that the boy was now eyeing your table very carefully.  ‘Don’t tell me she's a fucking Kook,’ you could suddenly hear an annoyed voice in your head.  “Everything okay?” Kelce asked and brushed a strand of hair out of your face. “You look like you've seen a ghost,” he joked, and you shook your head, trying to regain composure.  “Yeah, no, I'm okay, just remembered the time I saw a guy run over a cat. I don't know why I thought of that,” you lied, and he gave you a quick kiss. You couldn't let them know what had just happened to you, especially not Kelce, you couldn't break his heart. 

“Topper,” the boy came over and greeted him with a fake smile, not even giving Kelce or you any attention.  “JJ, nice to see you,” Topper laughed lightly.  ‘JJ? Peculiar name,’ the thought popped into your head, but he didn't turn to you, instead he looked directly at Sheila, who seemed to be more than intrigued by him.  “What can I get you?” JJ asked, still only looking at her.  Topper ordered for the two of them, as well as for Kelce and you because JJ still hadn't paid us any attention. Then he walked away and you had to scoff. 

“What an asshole, right?” you mumbled to yourself, and Kelce immediately kissed your cheek.  “The amount of times I wanted to rip that smug smile off that Pogue’s face,” he hissed and watched JJ vanish inside. Your heart got heavier, it had been clear that there was something between them, but the fact that the boy enraged Kelce this much meant nothing good.  “He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of you,” you chuckled at Sheila, trying not to seem too disappointed by it.  She laughed and put her hand on Topper’s shoulder. “Oh, that Pogue wishes.” But you knew the look she had given him, everything else was just a very bad lie in your eyes.  “Yeah,” you laugh quietly, before getting up. “I'm gonna go freshen up just a little,” you told Kelce and he nodded.  “Don't be too long, or I'll come find you,” he joked, a loving smile on his lips as you turned around and walked inside. 

‘Fucking Sheila? Why her? Why not me? I was right there, asshole!’ you screamed at JJ in your mind, knowing well enough that he would hear it.  ‘What are you talking about?’ the voice in your head replied, his voice.  ‘I didn't even want a fucking salad, okay! I wanted fries! But no, you couldn't even dare to look at us and ask what I wanted. And now I'm stuck with a stupid ass salad, because Topper is stupid,’ you let out all of your frustrations as you checked your makeup in the mirror of the restroom.  ‘Fuck!’ he exclaimed inside your head, and then it was silent again. 

You got back to the table and just a moment later JJ arrived with two of the four plates. He still didn't give you any notice until he came walking back, with a steak for Kelce and a plate of fries for you.  “She didn't order fries!” Kelce barked at him, but you just put your hand on his thigh.  “I did, I changed my order inside,” you lied without giving JJ a single look.  ‘Never seen Kelce act like a fucking dog. Who are you, pretty girl?’ JJ thought, but you couldn't let it show how much it made your heart falter.  “Why are you still standing here?” Sheila asked loudly, and you finally turned around to look at JJ. Your eyes met, and you couldn't be sure if it had been your own or his thoughts that let a silent “wow” slip.  “My bad, enjoy your food,” JJ said, still staring at you as he walked away, unable to take his eyes off of you, really.  “Why was he looking at you like that?” Kelce asked and you gulped lightly.  “I don't know,” you mumbled and started eating. 

‘What's your name, pretty girl?’ his voice was back in your head, and you nearly would've spit out your water. ‘You already know mine, so it's only fair. And it's not peculiar. I just don't like what my parents chose, so I'm doing my own thing,’ he explained, and you could see him walking around, doing his job while very casually trying to get to know you.  ‘I have a boyfriend,’ you remind him, but he just laughed inside your mind, a nice wholehearted laugh that sounded almost like music to you.  ‘I’m glad you like my laugh, princess, but don't forget about your boyfriend. Isn't he the best? Only tried to kill me last year,” JJ’s words made you choke on a fry.  “Hey, y/n, are you okay?” Kelce asked, and you nodded, taking a sip of water to try and calm your throat.  “Yeah,” you said and tried to smile at him. You knew of his temper, being the only one who could calm him down most times, but you would have never thought that he would actually willfully hurt someone so much that they would potentially die.  “We can leave if you don't feel so well,” he spoke in a soft voice, but you couldn't stop thinking about it. About how he must've hurt JJ, about what he could've done to him.  “I'm fine, really,” you pressed out and turned back to your plate, half empty, but you felt like eating another fry would just cause you to throw up. “I'm just gonna use the restroom real quick,” you excused yourself and all three of them gave you a weird look, but let you leave without further questions. 

‘Where did you go to, pretty girl? I didn't mean to scare you,” his voice was back in your mind.  “Stop talking!” you screamed and stopped in your tracks, you hadn't even noticed that you had actually said it out loud until the whole Country Club was staring at you. Quickly, you ran towards the restroom and hid in a stall.  You didn't know how much time passed as you hid and cried into yourself. This was definitely not how you had imagined it going, having him so close but so far, being caught in between a feud that you hadn't even known existed.  ‘Hey, princess, he's getting impatient, and I really don't wanna deal with that shit,’ JJ whispered to you.  ‘Y/n,’ you told him. ‘That’s my name. But everyone calls me y/n/n, apart from my parents, my parents call me Bean, because I only ate beans as a baby.’ You didn't even understand why you told him this very particular thing about yourself, when you had never let anyone know about your parents' weird nickname for you.  ‘Cute,’ he chuckled. ‘Will you come out again? I don't want to have to come in there, and then have to give you back to him as if he should have any claim over you,” JJ muttered, he was disgusted by the thought of Kelce kissing you.  ‘You don't have to be so mean, I can still hear you. Also, that's disgusting, he doesn't kiss like that,’ you thought but had to laugh about how weird he made it look in his head.  ‘Makes it more bearable though,’ JJ admitted.  ‘I have to talk to him, how the fuck am I supposed to do that? He already hates you.’ You buried your face in your hands.  ‘I won't let him hurt you, princess,’ he replied to your thoughts and the more you talked to each other just like that, the less you had to fight yourself to hide it, everything got easier. It was like listening to music while doing homework, as long as you kept on concentrating on what was in front of you, the music wouldn't bother you too much. But it also could be all encompassing as soon as you let it.  Yet you also wondered why he was so protective of you, a girl he had only just met.  ‘My best friend had a lot of issues, Sarah got hurt in the process, not badly but still. I don't want that for you, for us,’ JJ explained, and you wiped your tears away.  ‘Topper’s ex?’ you asked and stood up, wiping your dress down to seem more respectable again.  ‘Sarah, yes, I bet you heard. Kooks and Pogues don't always mix well, but she's a Pogue now,’ he spoke of it so casually as if he didn't mind at all.  “I'm neither,” you spoke up, but you knew he could still hear you.  ‘Your boyfriend is a Kook, that's already too much,’ he said and the disgust that he held for Kelce was incredibly draining.  “I don't choose who I fall for. It's not my fault,” you told yourself as if it was a manifestation. 

‘Do you really love him?’ JJ asked just as you walked out of the restroom, he was leaning on the wall opposite of the door, eyeing you wearily. “I don't know,” you replied out loud, and he couldn't help but smile, suddenly everything you had thought to know of love was thrown out the window. This feeling was completely different from anything you had ever felt before, and you never wanted to feel anything else ever again. ‘I would kiss you, but I'm not gonna give him any ammunition to hate you more than he already will once he finds out,’ he thought as his eyes darted down to your lips. It was like you were frozen, both unable to move as you stood on each side of the hallway.  ‘Probably better.’ You smiled and blushed a little over his boldness.  “They have been asking for you quite a lot, wondering where you are, why you aren't coming back. And yet not one of them made a single move to go check on you,” JJ spoke with a low voice.  “I should really go back then,” you whispered, and he gave you a small smile before you turned and walked back to the table. You knew he felt the small tingling feeling that settled in your guts, you knew he could feel you because you could feel it in him too. No one had ever mentioned that it wasn't just thoughts, but a direct connection into the inner world of the other. 

“I'm sorry, I’m really not feeling too well,” you apologized while sitting back down at the table.  Topper eyed you, and you felt like he knew, like he could see it in your eyes. “I can drive you home,” he suggested sweetly.  “I don't want to cause any trouble, I can just call an Uber,” you said and turned to Kelce. “I'm really sorry.”  “Nonsense, let Topper drive you home and if you don't feel better I'll just come by, and we can watch a movie together.” He smiled and put his forehead to yours.  ‘Oh, vomit,’ JJ’s thought popped into your head just as Kelce placed a small kiss on your lips.  “Uh, yeah, we can do that,” you told your boyfriend and got up. “See you later then,” you said and walked away with Topper by your side. 

You didn't want to think of JJ; you didn't want to think of hurting Kelce; you didn't want to think at all, but as soon as you were sitting in Topper's pickup truck he turned to you.  “Tell me it's not JJ,” he said as if you had committed a crime.  “I don't know what you mean,” you lied.  ‘We really gotta work on your lying skills, princess,’ JJ chuckled.  “I know that look, I had to look at it for two months before Sarah admitted it to me. Promise me to not break his heart, it's already hard enough as it is,” Topper said and you nodded shyly.  “I didn't want this,” you said, but JJ just laughed, and you had a hard time pushing him into the back of your mind.  ‘Are you only good at lying when you're doing it to yourself?’ “I had hoped that it would be him, and then it wasn't, and I was okay with it. I didn't want this now, I was okay with it never happening. I don't want to hurt him,” you started crying and Topper leaned over and hugged you. He had never hugged you like that before, it felt good to be cared for by someone who wasn't Kelce for once. “Please don't tell him,” you whispered as Topper pulled away again.  “I won't, but you should, as fast as possible, actually. It's only been three months, you haven't even said I love you yet, right?” Topper asked and turned on the engine.  “Yeah, no, we haven't. I just don't know how to. How do you tell someone that?” you asked, but he couldn't give you an answer that wouldn't hurt either of you in the end.  ‘You just say, “Hey, Kelce, you big asshole, I'm actually already bound by the universe to the very charming, extremely hot and sexy JJ Maybank. See ya’” or something like that,’ JJ told you, but you couldn't reply, your heart felt too heavy, heavier than you ever imagined possible.

“Top?” you asked quietly. “Yes, y/n/n?” the boy answered just as he stopped in front of your building.  “Kelce hates him, JJ, I mean. They hate each other, don't they?” You already knew the answer, but you hoped for some more intel on it all.  “Yeah, it's not pretty. I tried to stay out of it, it was mostly Rafe's fault, but the Pogues aren't that innocent either. It's better if you tell him before anything happens, trust me. I don't want to see you get hurt,” Topper explained with a sad smile. You didn't know that he cared so much about you, never truly having considered him your friend.  “Will you look after him, or just make sure he doesn't do something stupid once I-” The words got stuck in your throat but Topper just nodded.  “Took me some time to understand it, that you don't have a choice in this. He's gonna have to accept it,” he said, and you opened the door to get out.  “Thank you,” you said and wanted to close the door to walk towards your home.  “Y/n? If you need anything, you can just call me, just because you and Kelce are gonna end, doesn't mean we aren't still friends,” he told you and you nodded.  “I'll remember, thanks for the ride,” you said goodbye and walked towards the apartment building.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

part 2

[atalossofwords]

Please ramble about canon Ivan, what have you cooked for him divulge your secrets

I'M KISSING YOU ON THE CHEEK RN /P

Okay so, for starters, maybe all of this has been discussed and I just haven't seen it because Twitter gives me hives. So excuse me if my theories have somehow been disproved or are old news.

Starting off; where does he come from??

On Black Sorrow we see what is very possibly an auction going on; there's what looks like an announcer, little Ivan being displayed and what looks like statistics behind him, and a line of other children. There's been so many Alien Stages already, and since it's very clear Anakt grew the kids up FOR Alien Stage, that I think it's pretty unlikely that there's any sort of human colony where the aliens are picking the humans from. It's very much possible they're all being bred and sold just like dogs would for us.

I saw a post pointing out the flashes at the start of Cure indicating Anakt was also making body modifications on the kids (which I'm not going to include because they're a little graphic and I couldn't get a good screenshot myself anyhow), but here on Cure we can see little disheveled Ivan already has his red pupils.

I think it went like this; Ivan is bred at a high-class facility that does the modifications themselves (his red pupils, his snaggletooth) like those puppy mills that cut off a Doberman's tail to fit the breed standard and then auctioned off. His guardian THEN puts him on Anakt, hoping his pet will be trained and bring him money back.

(The only thing I can't fit with this is that scene in Black Sorrow where Ivan is dangled off a rooftop and sees the stars because. When did that happen? Who was that Alien? Who are the other kids???? Sobbing I want more info.)

Ivan and his Guardian's relationship is very much "pampered little pet". He is shown seated at a table full of food, but its not human food. It looks very much like a rich owner giving their own food to a spoiled pet. On the other shot, his guardian has one hand on his head, and on the background there is someone with flowers almost cooing at him, but in neither scene Ivan shows to even remotely enjoy the attention; he's passively accepting it, possibly because he learned early on that there's no use fighting the Aliens.

(Also, he is pretty young on both; if his guardian paid that much to get him, he'll probably invest in the upkeep, and a snaggletooth as prominent as Ivan's must need monitoring as he grows so it doesn't become "ugly".)

Now, about life on Anakt/Ivan's pet alien.

This scene shows up on both Black Sorrow and Cure, so it must be important. What is happening? Why are Till and Mizi so scared? The alien doesn't seem to be doing anything; it isn't approaching, and Till isn't even hurt besides a bruise on his face. They're both clearly put out by this alien, but Ivan seems so at ease with it.

I imagine that this is actually Ivan's pet alien, that his guardian shipped off to Anakt on perhaps the idle thought that Ivan is lonely? He doesn't interact with any students besides Till.

Also, look at what Ivan is caressing; his teeth. I know applying human logic to aliens doesn't work, but hear me out; animals don't tend to bare their teeth unless they're actively threatening someone, and by the look of this, this thing always has their teeth and gums showing. That must be incredibly uncomfortable.

So what if it was modified that way? The aliens modified the humans, why not also modify the giant boar-dog thing so it always has its teeth out, just like Ivan?? Ivan must feel some kind of kinship with the animal, and the scene of him looking at Mizi and Till being afraid of it...

I can't help but think Ivan's thoughts at the time were similar to "if you're afraid of it because it was changed, does that mean you're afraid of me as well?"

And, well. Don't get me started on his psychology, because that's all tied to Till, and I can make a whole other ramble about their cannon relationship lol.

[salternateunreality2]

Imagine Lucrecia had 2 sons. First with Vincent that she later gave away for adoption and second with Hojo.

She knew she f up with the second one, but maybe the first one can live a calm and uneventful life in Banora?

The Jones family adopted Baby Lucent. He was a smart, pale little kid that constantly stuck his nose into things he had no business snooping on. He found out about how the Rhapsodoses let their nanny hit their son, and how Genesis and Angeal were science experiments gone wrong. He saw the boys form a bond, playing together and sneaking over to see each other in the dead of night.

Lucent always wanted to join them, but was rarely able to see them during the day, when it would have been acceptable to talk to them. He was too quiet when he watched at night, and it would have been creepy to introduce himself then.

Lucent was his parents' only child, and grew up knowing he was adopted. They loved him and did their best, even when he'd materialize out of nowhere around the house like a ninja, starting from before he could crawl. Or when he'd just happen to know things that no one told him. He knew the mayor was sleeping with the butcher. He knew who his bio mom was and that she was a Shinra scientist. He knew the people who spied on him every few months were Turks. He guessed that either he was a Turk child or a lab experiment or both.

His mom and dad had longed for him so much, and they really did their homework in raising him. They paid careful attention to his emotional well-being, and encouraged and disciplined him to the very best of their ability. He loved them immensely, and they him.

So when he kept getting top marks at school, they didn't hesitate to put him in online and university classes, or to scrape together funds to support him when he went to Midgar to study. He was advanced enough that he got admitted early and went around the same time as Genesis and Angeal enlisted.

He worked hard, and by the time the Crisis Core era rolled around, he had a medical degree and employment with Shinra. More importantly, he had access to records now, was fast friends with Kunsel, and was constantly being courted by the Turks, who he turned down every time.

It did take up until this point to confirm his suspicions about the slope of Sephiroth's nose and the funny way his bangs grew, but now he knew, and now, at 11:30 am on a Tuesday, it was time to meet his half brother.

Lucent coughed once, then finally knocked on Sephiroth's office door.

"Come in," said Sephiroth. "Oh. What does the old man want now? Blood?"

Lucent blinked in confusion.

"I'm not sure who you mean; I'm here to deliver the report for the 3rd class health statistics," Lucent said.

"Very well, you may leave it on my desk," said Sephiroth, returning to his computer.

"I also wished to discuss something else with you."

Sephiroth sighed and fished around for a pen.

"Did you want an autograph?"

"No, I want to know if you remember our mother."

Time seemed to freeze, and the temperature of the room dropped.

"Excuse me?" Sephiroth asked, cold as ice.

"Lucrecia Crescent, listed as a primary scientist in the Jenova project. Long brown hair, same face as you, probably died when you were a baby...? I just want to know more about her, if you have more information."

"Get out."

Lucent felt animal fear jolt through his veins, but he powered through. He wasn't known for letting curiosity go easily.

"I understand this is a shock. I will leave, but please contact me if you change your mind," Lucent said, placing his card and the forgotten report on Sephiroth's desk. He kept his composure as he exited, closing the door firmly behind him, walking calmly down to his office, and shutting his own door.

Then he slumped against it, shaking and breathing hard. He'd be a stupid man not to be absolutely terrified from the energy in Sephiroth's office. He didn't know how long he sat there on the corporate carpet, trying to calm his nerves and telling himself he did the right thing, but he was interrupted by his PHS ringing.

"Dr. Lucent Jones," he answered automatically.

"Commander Rhapsodos. Look, Jones, I don't know who you are or where you've come from, but on behalf of Sephiroth, I will give you exactly one opportunity to speak with me. If I don't like what I hear, I will kill you. Meet me at the coffee shop on Loveless and 6th in one hour." Genesis paused. "Just to make it perfectly clear, I will kill you. This is a company line and I know Reno or someone is listening in. I will kill any Turks if they follow you, and if you're working with them or any other group to take advantage, I will kill everyone involved. If you don't show up, I will blackball you from practicing medicine in Midgar, but it will be better than death."

*click*

Lucent let out a strained laugh. Genesis Rhapsodos might be dramatic in everyday life, but that was not an idle threat.

---------

Lazard watched as a man in a lab coat left Sephiroth's office. That couldn't be good. As soon as the man left, Lazard tapped on Sephiroth's door, knowing he would have heard him coming. After a few seconds with no response, he swiftly entered, shutting the door behind him.

Sephiroth was sitting at his desk, completely motionless, pupils blown wide, gaze fixed on a stack of papers topped by a business card.

This wasn't going to be a good day.

---------

Eventually, Lucent is vetted by at least 3 layers of Sephiroth Protection Squad members, supported by Kunsel, and breaks into the inner circle. With him on their side, he's able to help with Genesis and Angeal's degradation using his Turk inclinations and medical knowledge.

He brings Sephiroth to meet his parents, and they love him and adopt him immediately, laughing over his ability to appear out of nowhere and cooing over his handsome funky bangs. They cherish his awkwardness covered by learned manners, fondly remembering Lucent's teenage years.

Lucent keeps digging, becoming more and more horrified between what he uncovers and what he hears from Sephiroth. He is right that this can't continue, and he is right that something must be done about Jenova.

He, Sephiroth, and Genesis go to Nibelheim with a spunky little trooper and Angeal's puppy. Shit goes down, but they ultimately find themselves with an emo vampire.

Sephiroth smirks weakly from where Genesis is practically holding him up.

"Guess it's my turn to spring some shocking parentage news on you, big brother," he says, nodding his head at Lucent and Vincent's matching red eyes and pale skin. Everyone laughs, relieved that Sephiroth is going to be ok, Jenova is dead, and the little trooper pulled through after being yeeted into a wall.

When they return to Midgar, Vincent kills Hojo and the president, and after the dust settles, Sephiroth retires to Banora. He has dinner with the Jones family most nights, and when Genesis or Angeal is in town, they eat apples together.

Lucent keeps his job at Shinra, helping the trooper through his mako sensitivity and his transition to SOLDIER. He's always wanted to help people, and Midgar is rife with interesting and difficult cases.

Of course, he visits home regularly to see his family, often tagging along when Lazard visits Sephiroth.

[linguenuvolose]

2024 goals - March progress

I can't claim I focussed on my goals at all this month... Idk I don't really see them as goals either they're just kinda.. things I keep some track of. I know I said this last month but I think April will be more productive because this month for sure spring will feel like it's here (we're still waiting for the trees to turn green, it snowed A Lot last week, just to give you an idea of the situation).

Anyway love and light below are some reflections on my specific goals :)

Get back into a reading routine

I've kept on reading Orlando by Virginia Woolf and I only have 35 pages left. I'm still not consistent at all with it, I read a bit about once a week. I find it so hard to reach for the book instead of my phone, it's annoying because I really do enjoy the book.

Meet friends at least once a month

I've had some good hangouts this month, mostly others that have been reaching out. I'm happy because one of my friends came to my boyfriend's show and was so excited about it and I'm happy they are bonding! In April I have plans to go visit a friend who lives in another city (one of my closest friends who will also meet my boyfriend for the first time) and I'm also planning to reach out to another friend!

Do the damn exercises for my back :(

I did them like.... 2,5 times :( not good at all. And my salsa classes stopped in the middle of the month and I've decided to not continue so it's not looking perfect. Hopefully with the extra light we get now I can have more energy to do them in the evening.

Get better at Portuguese

I signed up for the Portuguese course at uni <3333 Hopefully I'll get in and I'll be able to do that in the fall. I studied in some way 11 days of the month which isn't nothing!! Started doing Clozemaster and I really like it, especially on the writing mode (let's be honest, all my knowledge in Romance languages makes the "choose from these four options" a walk in the park for me). It's super annoying that the free plan only allows you 30 words a day. What I really should do is produce more, write little texts and stuff.

Get my license

We're still waiting for the permit to be able to practice driving with my boyfriend but it's taking a while... I've had 2 lessons though (was supposed to have 3 but one got cancelled). I don't know that I feel that I'm getting any better but I do really have to start studying the theory. It would be nice to talk to my instructor also and ask him what he thinks a reasonable time frame would be for me. In my head I'm seeing myself getting the license during the summer but who knows.

Get back into the habit of going on walks

I have been on some walks this month but more in the sense of I am somewhere and walk a bit instead of taking the closest subway. But I mean now with the change of the hour and the warmer weather I for sure am seeing myself going on more walks!

Go to the theatre more (youth discount my beloved) and also to some museums!

I went to the Maurizio Cattelan exposition at the Modern art museum because my friend had a free entrance with her job. I actually really liked it! Unfortunately I was in a bit of a hurry so I didn't have time to meander or look at the other expositions but I would love to go back! They do the free entry on Friday evenings so I think I might go!

Improve my sleeping schedule

I actually compiled my statistics for this this month (yay!). Slept an average of 7h15 but if we just look at work nights it's 6h20. Not great... It's not something I've paid particular attention to this month but I think I should. I think a goal could be maybe sleep before 1 more often (this month it was 3 times hihihi ma come siamo messi raga).

[crownshattered-moved]

|| i opened genshin impact and all thoughts of floyd are gone, head empty except for thoughts on alhaitham....

[wtffundiefamilies]

This is from 2013, but holy hell I hope Anna finds it.  Entirety of the post beneath the cut; it’s both long and not something people should read with no warning.  But I wanted to copypaste in case the link goes down one day.  It’s insane to me that these “little details” and “clues” are obvious and screaming red flags to people raised in a normal world.  (And no, looking at legal porn is not a “red flag” that someone is a child molester.  But, like...again, given the circumstances I’m not sure what we’d expect; we all saw what Jessa said.)  It’s part one of a series, and it’s amazing just how much this dude sounds like Josh.  And how much their “courtship” sounds like Josh and Anna’s.

Part of my mission, my purpose in life, is to educate others about child predators.  I’m not here to stir up some kind of crazy hype, but to present the facts and to give you a bit of insight as to what happened in my own life.  How was I so blinded to the fact that for forty years I was living with a practicing pedophile?  How did I not see the signs?  How did I not pick up on something being very wrong with the man I married?  

The truth is that I sensed something was wrong even before we got married, but I didn’t listen to my inner being.  I didn’t pay attention to those nudgings that something was wrong.  Why?  Because as a Christian it had been taught to me from little up that people who went to church were good, honest, moral people.  I was taught to trust people who said they believed in God and followed His teachings.  And, I did just that.  I was, unfortunately, one of the most trusting women who ever walked the face of the earth!

Pay attention to this, please!  Just because a person tells you that they walk by the teachings of God does not mean it’s true.  In fact, the word of God warns us against “wolves in sheep’s clothing”, and I learned first-hand just what that meant.  But, it would be years before my eyes were totally opened to this fact. As a bit of background information, I came from a broken home.  My parents divorced when I was fourteen, a sister of mine died when she was thirteen, my mother was an alcoholic, and my father was by today’s terms a “dead beat dad.”  Needless to say, I longed for a different life, and I prayed constantly that God would send a good, righteous, faithful Christian into my life so that I could build a home on godly principles and a firm foundation.

I worked hard all through high school so that I could go to college.  But, I didn’t want to go to just any college.  It had to be a Christian college because I sincerely believed that was the only place I would ever meet a Christian man to marry.  Because I worked so hard all through high school, I earned a four-year scholarship to a four-year state school.  BUT, you guessed it!  The idea of finding and marrying a Christian man was so ingrained in my heart and mind by now that I passed up the scholarship and instead went to a very small, two-year Christian College.  Little did I know that this one decision would lead to so much heartache for me and for those who are most special in my life — my children.  While it’s true that we can’t see around every bend in the road, there are signs and signals along the way.  I didn’t pay attention to anyone who tried to talk to me.  One thing was on my mind — finding a Christian mate!

Every person wants to feel special, and longs to be told that they stand out among all of the rest.  During the summer between my first and second year of college I met a young man who was articulate, bright, funny, witty, and who also told me that I stood out.  He was spending the summer at college and so was I.  A friendship developed, and even though I was engaged to marry someone else, this young man worked very hard every day to convince me that I was with the wrong person.  He pointed out all of the flaws of the man whose ring I was wearing until he finally convinced me to break off the engagement.  That’s a story in and of itself — maybe I’ll share that with you another day.

What was a bit strange to me was that the man I would soon marry had a quiet control over me like nobody ever had before.  Even though I had low self-esteem I was used to making my own decisions and being very independent.  For the first time in my life I found I was reporting my every move to this quiet, shy young man. He told me I was special.  He said out of all the girls on campus I was the only one that he thought was pretty and was a true Christian.  He told me just what I wanted to hear.  It was the word “Christian” that nailed me!  I knew he was the one I had been praying about since my youth!

One of the greatest stories my now ex-husband loved to tell was how he spotted me from across campus and said to his roommate, “See that girl?  I’m going to marry her.”  This was totally absurd because at the time he said that we had not even met!  He later told me he would hide and watch me — study me — and he knew my schedule, when I was going to eat, when I’d walk back to campus, when I would go to work.  He said, “I knew everything about you.  I knew where you were from morning until night. I knew I would marry you.”

Instead of being freaked out and thinking this guy was some kind of stalker psycho, I was flattered.  “He chose me.”  Out of all of the girls around, he chose me and that again was more evidence of answered prayers.  Deep inside, though, was a gnawing feeling that something wasn’t right.  He didn’t talk much.  And, for a man who said he loved God, he made fun of people in a mean way.  He mocked people’s insecurities.  Yes, you guessed it!  He mocked me on several occasions and I felt like a piece of dirt he had stepped on.  He made fun of the size of my nose.  He made fun of my feet calling them “hammer head toes.”  He made fun of the space I have between my teeth.  I cried myself to sleep many, many nights, but still……..he was a Christian man, and he was so nice when we were together in public.  He opened the car door for me (it was my car, by the way).  He paid the bill when we went out to eat and left a nice tip.  (It was my money that he used.)  He talked me into giving him my car (which I had since I was 16) and I found myself asking him for permission to use my own car.  This was really weird!

Why did I put up with it?  Why does anybody put up with abuse?  Because they’ve been so used to being beaten down that they think this is the norm. Please, please — if you’re in a situation like this run for your life!!!  This is NOT the way a good relationship works!  And, it’s a red flag indicator of many other problems — in my case, it was a big red flag that I was being masterfully manipulated.  Groomed to be the wife of a pedophile who was already deeply involved in porn and child sexual molestation!  

Learn to listen for “clues” that a decision you’re making might not be right.  I had BIG clues that I passed off as “odd”, “not making much sense”, “silly”, or “not that big of a deal.”

Clue 1:  For the last four months we dated, my fiance was in Israel doing overseas study.  We corresponded by letter only.  We were to get married less than one week after he arrived back in the states.  In his letters he would write to tell me how he would hide behind the grasses on the beach and watch girls changing out of their clothes and swimming nude.  He said he’d skip class and stay there all day.  In other words, he was openly telling me he was a “peeping Tom.”  This was a test of how far he could manipulate me and I passed with flying colors! I never questioned him about it.  Oh, I cried lots, but I never questioned him!

Clue 2:  He told me while we were dating that he and one of his cousins spent the summers together and they would steal cartons of cigarettes from stores and sneak out of the house at night and smoke the cigarettes and look at “porn” all night long.  Another test!  I looked at him quietly but never questioned him.  If you want to know the truth — I didn’t even know what porn was!!!!!  I had to ask my college roommates.  Again, I was being tested.  Could he get away with doing things right under my nose?  Sure he could. I’d never question a man of God!

Clue 3:  He was almost 21 and his favorite job was to “babysit all the little kids at church for free because he loved to give them baths and powder their little butts.”  I’m totally sick now as I write these words.  Why in heaven’s name didn’t I run from this man? There were so many clues that something was wrong, and I passed them off as being a little odd.  Nothing more — just a little bit odd. In fact, I actually thought this was kind of nice.  I never saw my father get involved in parenting like that, and I thought, “Wow!  This man will make a wonderful father!”    

Porn.  Lying.  Peeping Tom.  A young man who loves bathing and powdering little kids.  Masterfully manipulating.  Gaining the trust of adults. (Church people loved him babysitting their kids!)

I was another one of his victims.  I was being set up. I was being groomed  I would be the perfect alibi for his continued evil behavior.  He was calculating.  He studied me.  He used me.  He used my faith as a means to get what he wanted.  He knew what he was doing! His actions were no mistake.  He worked very hard to plan every detail.  

Listen up everyone!  Please don’t do as I did!  If your gut is telling you something is wrong, it probably is!!! Pay attention to the little details and the little voice that is whispering something is wrong!!!

This is just the beginning of my story.  I will share more in the weeks to come in hopes that others will not be blinded to the facts as I was.   We must get educated about child sexual molesters so that we can protect life’s most precious blessings — our children!

Why am I sharing the ugly, sad parts of my life?  That’s simple.  Because children are beautiful.  Children are precious.  Children deserve to be protected.  Statistics (according to information found here ) tell us that 1 in every 3 girls and 1 in every 6 boys are molested by the age of 18.  Please help me to stop this!  Let’s get educated!  Let’s do all we can to make it incredibly difficult for the molester!  Let’s be vigilant on behalf of our children — at all times!!!

Every child should have the ability to grow up feeling safe and loved and whole and pure!

It isn’t easy or comfortable for me to write about this, but I must.  I must take this terribleness and do something positive with it.  I must work for the safety of our children. Thanks so much for stopping by and for taking the time to read this.  Thanks even more for making yourself more aware of what is going on right under our noses — in our schools, our churches, our camps, our homes.  Let’s do all we can to work together to make this a safe place for our children!  

Love, Clara

[extremelyblackandwhite]

losing my mind

pairing: endings, beginnings! frank x reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, sex, drugs, cheating, creative liberties with endings, beginnings plot, time jumps, angst, accidents, wounds

based off “losing my mind” from bernadette peters/or follies 

sequel to “always hate me”

The sun comes up, I think about you. The coffee cup, I think about you. I want you so it’s like I’m losing my mind. The morning ends I think about you, I talk to friends I think about you and no one knows it’s like I’m losing my mind. All afternoon doing every little chore, the thought of you stays bright, sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor not going left not going right ...

The sounds of the night infiltrated Frank’s mind like a drug, probably the only one he could take. Life seemed bleaker and this time he just couldn’t deal with it the was he normally did. Somehow drinking seemed to have no effect on him, drugs were just childish things and girls didn’t matter to him. He just roamed the Earth like a doomed soul with heavy metal spheres shackled to his ankle. Even his house no longer felt like home, every small thing reminding him of Y/N. From the little Beanie baby in the fireplace to the lingering scent of the laundry detergent she had swore to him was the best thing he could ever get and would make his clothes as soft as ever. It hurt him more not to have her on his side rather than Jack, Jack who he had known since he was a kid. No, he missed her and how she would drag him to watch Gossip Girl with her as Jack merely sneered at the idea or how she would eat only sweet and salty popcorn believing it tasted better.

The only thing that seemed to take his mind off was driving. He couldn’t sleep so driving was the only thing he could do. Just drive. Anywhere, for hours and hours on end with sleep weighting his eyelids and regret on his mind.

     - Where are we going? - he turned his head to the side, Y/N sat on the passenger seat, burgundy dress on and feet up on the car console. She had a sassy look to her, hair pushed back with a gaze that almost mocked him. Slowly, he blinked his eyes wondering if his mind was playing a trick on him, which it definitely was. - Don’t worry, darling. I’m just a personification of guilt and lack of sleep. 

      - Go away. - he steered the wheel of his car, hoping the hallucination of Y/N would just disappear. 

      - I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t feel so guilty. - the corners of her lips were pushed upwards. - How long did you think I took to sleep with Jack, huh? Think we’re doing it right now?

      - Shut up. 

      - He was always much more interesting than you. Smarter, sophisticated, the type of guy I’d take to my parents. You know my parents, right? You know they love Jack, they’re always talking about him and how smart he is. Do you wanna know what they say about you?

     - Shut up. - he screamed but what was he screaming at? His own guilt, screaming at the personification, the realisation of his guilt standing there in that damned burgundy dress, the same dress he had met her. She was not there, she was not real, she was just a vision. Guilt and regret personified. - Go away. 

     - I can go away whenever you want, darling. Go on and do what you always do, go get high, overdose even and maybe I’ll disappear or maybe I won’t. We all know you’re gonna end up like that, dead, just a bit too much and I’m not gonna be there. Jack’s not gonna be there when you’re gone and we won’t care. You wanna know why? Because you push people away, you push them away because you know you’re a mess and being next to you is like dying from radiation poisoning. Slow and painful, side effects lasting forever.

    - SHUT UP! - the lights of his car got brighter and brighter until he realised it wasn’t the light of his car that were shining at him. In a flash of second, his forehead hit the wheel of the thud and everything went black. The last thing he heard, his heart still beating and seemingly breaking out.

I dim the lights and think about you spent sleepless nights to think about you. You said you loved me or where you just being kind? Or am I losing my mind? I want you so it’s like I’m losing my mind. Does no one know? It’s like I’m losing my mind.

The sizzling of the pan was everything that was heard on Y/N’s very small apartment just on the outskirts of town yet still with an unbelievable rent price tag. As she moved the pan, she looked up to the clock shining 4:04 AM. She sensed something was wrong yet she couldn’t pin point what is was. Had she forgotten rent? No, rent was surely paid. Were all bills paid? She didn’t know but something was deeply unsettling to her and as Jack, who had come over for a small dinner and catch up, spoke to her the tragedy-like feeling just rose out of her chest.

    - Y/N? - he touched her wrist, noticing how still she was. - Hey, are you alright? 

    - Something’s wrong. 

    - What? Do you feel a disturbance in the Force? - he joked, trying to lighten the mood but Y/N was much to distressed to even get the joke. - Please tell me it’s not about Frank. It’s been two months.

    - Frank? No. I’m just .. I’m just tired. - she sighed, grabbing the pan from the stove and placing it on the table, a perfect frittata. Jack merely raised an eyebrow, setting down his cutlery as she sat. - What?

    - Normally if you don’t sleep that’s what happens. At this point I’m not entirely sure if stopping communication with Frank is hurting him or you more.

    - It’s not about Frank, Jack. Cut it off, please. - she rolled her eyes, slicing half the dish for her and half for Jack. Of course that deep down she knew she was lying to herself, of course it was about Frank. Half of her didn’t want to admit it that she hadn’t caught a wink of sleep ever since Frank professed himself to her as that half knew what he was. She knew the type of guy he was, she had picked him up from one night stands houses, from the curb of sleazy bars and strip clubs. He wasn’t exactly what one would consider a partner yet at the same time she knew he could be good. He would always make sure to buy some sweet and salty popcorn despite hating them, even having a quarter of a shelf filled with them. Or when her engagement broke off and he sent her a care basket with the whole box collection of Friends and Gossip Girl. 

    - C’mon, Y/N. Spit it out, what is it? Have you also been in love with Frank for all these years? - it came out as more of a joke, a tiny yet full laugh coming from his throat yet Y/N remained still. - Oh my god. You’re in love with Frank.

10 YEARS AGO

Y/N walked into the Valentines’ Day party thrown by Jack, barely holding herself up in her pair of new heels and burgundy long sleeve fit and flare dress which at the time she had thought was very appropriate. The mood was mellow with low lights and pink and red helium balloons suspended into the air while a very slow and almost melodic version of “Can’t Take my Eyes off You” played. 

Jack quickly noticed her, waving at her to come join him and his friends. In all honesty, she didn’t know any of the people here. She knew Jack from her English class as they had been paired together at the beginning but other than that it was mostly frat boys and their boyfriends. 

     - Hey, Y/N. I’m so happy you came. - he gave her a friendly hug before turning to his friends, or rather, one friend as the other men around seemed much more interested with their dates than him. His friend however quickly caught her attention. He was much more casually dressed than the other boys, wearing a button up shirt with a worn out coat and slightly ripped jeans. - This is my friend, Frank. Frank this is Y/N, we go to English class together. 

     - Nice to meet you Y/N from English class. - he raised his glass at her as she took a seat in the middle of the two boys. - What’s your poison?

     - Oh, I’m really not in the mood for alcohol tonight. - she gave him a shy smile, feeling like a school girl talking to the jock. 

     - Ah, that bad? - he questioned, bringing the cup up to his lips. - Don’t feel bad. Valentine’s is a commercial invention and the break up rate is usually higher around it. 

     - Sounds like you’re the one who’s not dealing well with it. - he raised an eyebrow at her statement, amused look in his face. - Statistics quotes and all? Who broke your heart?

     - No one breaks my heart, I don’t have one. 

    - Everyone has a heart no matter how hidden it is. That is just how anatomy works and you can choose to ignore that you have one or you can chose to accept you have one. 

    - You speak like an English student.

    - You speak like a Law student. - she noted.

    - How did you know? - he was amused by her, mostly how cut throat yet somehow soft she was about the information she was giving out. 

    - Law is reason free from passion. - she quoted, leaning her head against her own shoulder. - You seem to be void of it.

PRESENT

   - You know Jack just because you’re very happy in a new relationship doesn’t mean I need one. - she was protective but she knew. She knew she loved Frank, she had loved him from the very moment they had known each other, she loved him through the recounts of his night stands, she loved him when she accepted a marriage proposal and she loved him when she left his life months ago. However, just because you love someone doesn’t mean you should be together. 

   - I’m gonna ask you this only one time and whatever answer you give we won’t speak about it ever again. - his hand went to rest on top of hers, a caring look of that of a parent that Jack somehow always carried. She just stared at his hand, softly and safely on top of hers as he let the question go. - Are you in love with Frank?

The truth is not always kind or reassuring, it’s not always soft or climatic and in this case it was just ... freeing in a painful sort of way. The pain of holding it in for ages, pretending it would just disappear, the pain of leaning her head against his shoulder whenever they had show marathons and knowing it was just that, just a momentaneously second of paradise which would never come to fruition. The truth that she knew, that she had always known, coming out scared her more than her words could ever describe them. There’s knowing and there’s saying and sometimes speaking is harder that acknowledging. 

    - Yes and I really don’t ... - her phone ring interrupted her. Her gaze moved slowly across the room, sensing something in the air that felt like tragedy in the end. Without much thought, she grabbed her phone from the kitchen island, putting it up to her ears.

There are moments that the words don’t reach, you hear something but it just doesn’t register, it just doesn’t reach your senses and for Y/N this was one of those moments. The grip on her phone grew lose causing the device to slide off her hand and into the ground which in turn made Jack get up to notice how every single thread of joy seemed to have left her face. Before he could even question what was happening, she rushed up to her door, grabbing her jacket and keys. Jack followed behind the crazed woman who pretty much pulled the door of her car open. 

     - Where are we going? - Jack asked her but she continued to drive. The short ten minute drive seemed to take hours and hours and as the emergency unit of the hospital became clear to Jack, he understood what that call was about. 

She parked the car like a crazy person, immediately jumping off the car, still wearing her pyjamas and slippers which were hidden by her black trench coat. Her heart was beating like a drum as she hit the front desk where a less than bothered nurse was filling her nails and having small talk with her colleagues. 

    - Hi? Sorry, hi. - Y/N knew she sounded desperate but she was. - I got a call about a car crash. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. 

    - Follow me. 

All afternoon doing every little chore the thought of you stays bright. Sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor not going left, not going right. I dim the lights and think about you, spend sleepless nights to think about you. You said you loved me or were you just being kind? Or am I losing my mind?

The small noise of beeping woke him from his transe. All around white, nothing but white and if people were right than maybe he was in heaven however as his eyes got accustomed he could see the machines but more than machines, what really frightened him was the vision of Y/N.

   - Hey, darling. - her hand came to caress his face making him wonder if he was seeing her or if she was one of his tired mind’s inventions. 

   - Are you real? - his words were slow and droopy, caused by the high amount of morphine they had injected him with. 

   - Yeah, I’m afraid so. - she gave him a kind smile, hand pushing his messy hair away from his forehead. - Me and Jack were so worried. 

   - I wasn’t high, Y/N. I promise. - he didn’t know what was wrong with him, maybe he didn’t want her to be even more disappointed than she already was with him. 

   - I know, you just had a car crash, darling. You probably have enough morphine in you to put down an elephant. 

   - No, Y/N. I, I got distracted in the road I wasn’t using or drinking or with a girl, you have to believe me. 

   - Frank, darling, I know. You’re in the hospital, you don’t need to apologise to me. I was so worried about you and so was Jack.

   - Jack’s here? 

The girl nodded, pushing the hair away from his forehead once again, leaning to kiss his forehead. He was covered in small cuts caused by small shards of his car’s broken windows and a few gashes which she just couldn’t look at without feeling the tears submerge to her eyes. A sea of guilt was storming in her chest and although her subconcious kept telling her this would never be her fault, it was merely a car crash, her heart told her something else. Friday night. Gossip Girl night when Frank would bake the only thing he could without setting the kitchen on fire, mozarella and tomato pesto salad, and the two of them would sit down and watch two seasons in one night. If she hadn’t ... She didn’t even wanted to think about it.

Frank on the other hand could see the distinct pain on her features. The pressure of her muscles creasing her soft features, lines by her eyes and lips quivering. It hurt, it just hurt more than he could phantom something would hurt, it hurt more than his wounds, it hurt more than knowing he’d hurt her several times, it hurt to see her so hurt and being able to do absolutely nothing yet that seemed to be a pattern. Frank always did nothing. 

9 YEARS AGO

Valentine’s Day. Again. And Y/N was once again at the same party, the same decorations, the same slow version of “Can’t Take my Eyes off You” playing in the background, the only thing missing being Jack and Frank. Jack was on a date with a girl named Catherine whom he gushed about all the way through first until last period and Frank, well, Frank was out with a girl named Mandy. Oh Mandy, where to start with Mandy? Y/N hated Mandy. They had been housemates during the first year of university and if there was someone who could get her on her last nerve and consider murder it was her. Not only had she been a nightmare to live with, constantly refusing to clean or do any house chores, eating the food Y/N bought for herself. God, she was an absolute nightmare but Frank was interested in her and therefore Y/N held herself back. 

She sighed ordering a virgin mojito, wanting to remain sober and not get drunk and end up in bed with one of the various frat boys around. Looking at her phone she noticed the hour, 23:20, only forty more minutes of this painful holiday and she could be free from her feeling of loneliness. As she was about to turn off her phone to enjoy her drink, a message fell. Frank. 

“How’s commercial holiday? Found a suitable partner yet?” 

She smiled faintly at the text, finger lingering over his name on the phone.  

“I guess it’s alone commercial holiday for me once again”

She turned off her phone, not wanting to see another text from him, afraid it would be about how well his date was going with the housemate from Hell. Staring at her glass, she mixed the drink using the little heart shaped wood pick. As she took the first sip, the slow version of the song ceased to play and in its place “At Last” started to play because why play actual upbeat songs on a holiday where 50% of the population was miserable.

On that moment she decided she was better off alone in her room rather than in the middle of various single people expecting their fantasy of coupleness to occur. As she picked her clutch and looked for the door, she found Frank coming him, same old beat jacket that had become a trademark over the years. He gave her a little grin, walking towards her. 

      - Couldn’t let you spend Valentine’s alone. - he said before she could even question his appearence at this party. - C’mon, I have some red velvet cupcakes, wine and a blanket. Let’s go to the beach. 

PRESENT

Y/N had remained at the hospital for the two days he had been in, barely catching a second of sleep until tiredness finally beat her and had her sleeping against the uncomfortable hospital chair. The moment she went to sleep was the moment he woke up from his morphine induced sleep, eyes immediately focusing on her and how her hair fell in front of her face as she rested for the first time in two days. He moved slightly in his bed to better stare at her which led her to wake her up with the noise, moving her head upright immediately.

      - You’re awake. - she gave him a sleepy grin, straightening her back. - The doctor said you should be free to go home today. 

     - You should go home, Y/N. - his voice was still somewhat raspy from all the medication they’d been giving him. - I’m really not worth this. 

     - I have nothing better to do besides my neighbours are renovating, so it’s awfully noisy. 

     - Y/N, you really don’t need to be here. 

     - I think that’s the thing, Frank. - she gave him a soft smile, raising from her couch to go stand near him. - I think ... no, I know, I know I’m always gonna be here.

You said you loved me or were you just being kind or am I losing my ... mind?

everything taglist: @connie326​​ @lookiamtrying​

[honourablejester]

Zealot Barbarian Concept: Warrior Preacher

Okay, so, barbarians are my favourite of the martial classes, mostly because two things: toughness and rage. Thematically, I adore that well of savage fury that all barbarians have. And the two subclasses that immediately catch my eye with barbarians, possibly to no one’s surprise, are Ancestral and Zealot. Because ghosts and gods. I’ve talked before about how cool I find Ancestral Barbarians, the idea of the noble bloodstained scion literally haunted by their vile, heckling ancestors. Here, though, I wanted to talk about Zealots.

There’s one line in the description for the Zealot’s ‘Warrior of the Gods’ feature: ‘Your soul is marked for endless battle.’ It’s the explanation for why zealots are so easy to raise from the dead, why they’re so hard to put down in the first place. Some god, some deity of war, has marked them out to just keep fighting, even beyond death. When they die, they just get back up again, and keep fighting.

Thematically that’s just gorgeous. Because there’s so much … Is this a blessing? A constant Valhalla to soothe the rage in their soul? Or a curse? A divine mission that not even in death are you allowed to lay down? That’s toothy. Savage and tearing and raw. I love it.

‘Your soul is marked for endless battle’. Did you agree to that? Did you have a choice? Do you embrace it joyfully, in the surety of a warrior’s heaven? Or do you shoulder it as a mission and a sacrifice, to bear the horrors of war so that other people don’t have to?

I like the former. One of the reasons I love the idea of Warhammer 40K orcs is this idea, that all of chaos can throw the worst horrors in the universe at them and they just scream in giddy delight at the chance to make battle with awesome horrors. The Nac Mac Feegle in Discworld, where the deepest hell would be their idea of heaven, because look at all the targets. Endless, joyful war, and nothing you can do to them can dent their raw enjoyment. It makes for a deliciously fun and durable character.

But. But I also like the other angle. And it also kind of bumps into another character archetype I like, from a slightly different genre: the western’s warrior preacher.

The thing is, preachers in westerns often have a bit of a dark past. They’re ex-charlatans, or current charlatans, or fire-and-brimstone rabble-rousers, or philosophical warriors struggling with the duality of the gun and the cross. Josiah Sanchez in Magnificent Seven. And I love that too. Combine that with a war god. With a call to the fight that not even death will let you escape.

So. A character to play into the religious angle of the zealot barbarian. The Acolyte background, for a god of justice and protection of the innocent (I like Torm for this). A wandering preacher. Maybe a bit of the charlatan, in that maybe they weren’t originally the most devout, maybe they were mostly paying lip-service, until they have their Road to Damascus moment, a lightning strike of pure rage at injustice, and abruptly their deity starts paying rather more personal attention to them …

Character Sheet: Elias Walker

Name: Elias Walker

Race: Half-Elf

Age: 67

Background: Itinerant Preacher (Acolyte)

Class/Level: Barbarian 3 (Zealot)

Deity: Torm, the Loyal Fury

Statistics: Strength 16, Dexterity 14, Constitution 14, Intelligence 8, Wisdom 12, Charisma 12

Skills & Languages:

Skills: Athletics, Insight, Perception, Persuasion, Religion, Survival

Languages: Common, Elvish, Orcish, Undercommon, Celestial

Ideal: “Better one sacrifice for the protection of many, than allowing the death of all.”

Bond: “My soul was given unto the fires of war, so that better ones need not be.”

Flaw: “I’ve never believed in anything before, and the size of this calling, the depth of this rage, terrifies me a lot.”

Allies/Connections: The priesthood of Torm. Rosa & Luther, the married couple who nursed him back to health after that first death in their and his god’s service.

Traits, Feats and Background/Class Features: Darkvision (60ft), Fey Ancestry, Skill Versatility, Shelter of the Faithful, Rage, Unarmoured Defense, Danger Sense, Reckless Attack, Divine Fury, Warrior of the Gods

Equipment: Common clothes, vestments, halberd, 2 handaxes, 4 javelins, amulet of Torm’s holy symbol, prayer book, belt pouch, explorer’s pack

Description: A slim, almost cadaverous half-elf, with dark skin and golden eyes, bald except for greying stubble across his shaven scalp. His face seems fixed in a wry, gentle expression, but its harsh lines and the premature greying of his hair bely that somewhat. He wears dark grey vestments hung with an amulet of the Hand Resolute, and leans heavily on the halberd he seems to primarily use as a walking stick.

History: A shiftless, lackadaisical wanderer for almost all his life, with few contacts or connections anywhere, Elias eventually fell into the life of an itinerant preacher of Torm. Mostly, it must be said, for the sense of camaraderie and belonging it granted, not necessarily out of any true devotion. He was a lacklustre preacher at best, bordering on paying lip-service.

But then. In a little village on the far edge of civilisation, Elias happened to be present when a bandit warlord came to town, seeking wealth, slaughter and slaves. By luck or chance, in all his shiftless life, Elias had never seen butchery on that level before. Children slaughtered. People dragged screaming from their homes. He’d never seen the like. And it enraged him. It broke something in him, snapped some tether. His mind went blank, a perfect fugue state, and he did his savage damnedest to slaughter every bandit in range in defense of the town.

He didn't survive the effort. One skinny preacher against a bandit warband? Of course he didn’t survive. Elias Walker died that day. But in the embrace of death, the god he had always only ever paid lip service to finally came to him. Drawn by that shocking well of fury at injustice. Torm appeared, and asked him if that fury, that sacrifice in defense of the innocent, was a thing he offered willingly. If it could be something he offered up again, again and again, as many times as might be necessary. Even beyond death. And for some reason, though the thought of it terrified him … Elias said yes. Because some part of him was proud of what he’d done. And another … glad that it had been him, the useless layabout, who’d fought and died, and not someone better, some innocent who didn’t deserve that fate.

For Torm, that was good enough.

Elias woke up in a refugee camp, having been dragged from the burnt remnants of the village by the few survivors he’d died to save, when they realised that by some miracle he still seemed to be breathing. Two of them in particular, a married couple, had taken it upon themselves to nurse him back to health, out of gratitude for what he’d tried to do. They’d lost almost everything they had, neighbours and homes and friends, but they’d tried to help him anyway. Brought back into the world, given a mission so much bigger and more terrifying than anything he would have allowed before, Elias clung to that, and to them, for the courage to move forward.

[honey-makki]

This Love We’ve Been Working On

Characters: Iwaizumi x GN!Reader

Summary:  You and your boyfriend have only spoken in passing for three months. How will he react when you break down?

Song: Slow Dancing in a Burning Room- John Mayer

Genre:  a n g s t, fluff at end

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: This is the first fic I’ve ever written and like the first thing I’ve written in 5+ years. I originally planned on it being fluff with Hinata, but here we are. Thanks to @lydzisanerd for proof reading and encouraging me to write this. Please send me feedback!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I was the one you always dreamed of

4:32pm. You gaze at the clock thinking about how little time you have until you have to head home. 4 years ago you would have been walking home from classes with your boyfriend babbling about your day. Gazing up at him while he regails stories of practice with a smile, wondering how lucky you were that fate decided you two should be together. Holding hands and dreading getting home when you would go your separate ways. How the world has changed.

It's not a silly little moment/It's not the storm before the calm

5:24pm. You stand on the subway platform waiting for the next one to arrive. Looking around you see businessmen headed home for the weekend, mothers out with their children, young couples going out to dinner before a presumed night out on the town. At some point while scanning you drift into a memory of the last time you and Iwaizumi were here together. Two months ago on the way to a work dinner. The memory is quiet, the silence between you overwhelming the bustling of the station. It is stiff, awkward and impersonal. 

“I think we are going to get there just on time, but definitely cut it close” he murmurs while quickly glancing at his watch. You offer back an acknowledging grunt as your train arrives. You both board and --. You are shaken from the memory as your real train arrives. With a sigh, you step on, find a seat and prepare for the ride to your shared midtown loft.

You’ll be a bitch just because you can

Entering the apartment you are hit with the smell of curry and the image of your long term boyfriend Iwaizumi sitting at the table eating dinner. Neither of you spare a glance at each other as you walk into the kitchen, seeing only his serving of dinner, you rummage around in the fridge for a quick meal. Sitting down across from him you take everything in. His wrinkled shirt, bags under his eyes, the sight of his curry, your rummaged together ramen, the tension in his body and the quiet. The sounds of the city in the distance paired only with two people eating two different dinners.

Iwaizumi mentions he's going to go watch a movie once he finishes his meal and washes his bowl. You wonder how his two big deadlines today turned out remembering that he hadn’t come to bed the last two nights. It would explain the bags under his eyes, but the silence? That's something else. 

Can’t seem to hold you like I want to 

You head into the living room acutely aware of his presence on the couch. Brief hesitation washing over you before you chose to sit in the armchair next to the couch. You don’t remember the last time you both were in here together. Was it last month after your statistics midterm? No, further back, three months ago he answered work emails while you watched a movie. That was it. Drifting into thought, you remember how he hunched over his laptop, running his hand through his already frumpled hair with his tensed up arms.  

You realized you are in a similar situation now. The four inches between the chair and the couch feels like a canyon. His body isn’t tense from anxiety but from running on fumes for the past few days. You feel frozen in place, tired, but afraid to break this moment. It's not perfect but it's something. You are both here even if you seem to be in your own worlds.

And you know that we’re doomed

The documentary in the background fades away and all you can do to stay grounded and not get swept up in the over pour of emotions is focus. Breathe. In and out. In. hold. Out. hold.  Swallow down the sob. Quiet your beating heart. Suppress the shaking. You don’t realize you haven't blinked in a while until tears start dropping onto your hand. You see them before you feel them. Your hand is the focus of your attention. On the arm rest, just like his arm. Four inches apart. Three months apart. Two lovers apart. One relationship falling apart. 

Your brain is moving a mile a minute but somehow you also can’t recognize any of the thoughts. That is until you see that first single teardrop. Something you have been hiding away, deep inside for months. The wave comes crashing down suddenly. You are drowning, you're burning,  breathing uneven and ragged, heart racing and your body shakes when that first sob comes out of your throat.

“Y/n-” he starts before turning to you and taking in the sight. He feels like this is the first time he's seen you in a long time. Yeah he sees you for dinner most nights, and whenever he slips into bed long after you fall asleep but he doesn't see you. He is immediately on his knees in front of you staring up at you, uncertain about what to say and whether he should close the gap between you more than he already has. Yes closing space is one thing but physical contact? That's not something he is sure he's ready to do.

Go cry about it, why don't you 

You remove your hands from your face looking back at those four inches between you and Iwaizumi. But-- he isn't there and that is when you realize he is in front of you. And he is close. Closer than you have been in months. You can feel his body heat, his eyes pouring into you and an air of something else. Concern maybe? Worry? Fear? You aren’t sure but you didn’t think Iwaizumi would ever feel anything remotely close to those feelings for you ever again. 

“H-Ha-Hajime.” you choke out over an increasing amount of sobs. You don’t even know what you want to ask of him, but just that you want, no, need him. Warmth encompasses your hands as he takes yours into his, staring at you. He waits there, still, to ease into whatever will come next. Once you catch his deep brown eyes, you can't look away. 

“I don- Y/N, I don’t even know where to start with this. I miss you. My work schedule is no reason to not spend time with you. You’ve always been a light in my life and I pulled away when life got tough. I knew I wasn't in a good place, and instead of communicating that and seeing how you were doing, I threw myself more into my work. Taking on extra projects, working longer hours.” You don’t know when he started crying, but his tears are flowing so freely they pool in your hands. “So I didn't have to come home and face you in shame. How could I face you? I did nothing for you. I don’t deserve to still have you but, fuck, I hope that I still do.”

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out, just a low cry. The pain in his eyes when he hears that, is something that would have made you look away so you could forget that image, but he beat you to it. Breaking contact with you he stands up and reaches for his phone. His figure shuddering and trying to maintain some semblance of composure while everything is burning down around him. After a few seconds of fiddling around, the silence is broken by soft guitar. The notes each feel like a shot to the heart but, something more. Is that hope in his eyes? In the hand outstretched to you?

We're slow dancing in a burning' room

Iwaizumi’s hand is trembling with fear, just inches away from you. You stare at it, lost in thought. Every single atom on your body was vying for you to reach forward and take it but your heart is stubborn. Do you deserve him and his forgiveness? You haven’t even apologized yet how can you take his hand with confidence? Will the future be like the old days? Or will you both fall into another routine of lonely, silent, cohabitation?

He sees this in you. Being with you for so long means you both understand each other and how the other thinks. He chuckles under his breath realizing if he would have just paid attention earlier, this situation wouldn't be happening right now. He mumbles “C’mon up Y/N,” while closing the space once again.

‘Hajime, I have loved you for years. Three stressful months won’t be able to wash that away, as long as you’ll still have me,” you whisper into his chest as you hold each other. This must be the millionth time holding each other, but it feels new. His woodsy scent holding you almost as tightly as his arms around your back. His warmth drying up your tears. He gives you an affirmative grunt into your neck once you finish speaking. Leaning back he places a chaste kiss on your forehead, and says “We can talk in the morning, let’s just-- just be here.” You agree as you both sway to the music in the background. Things aren't perfect, and there are difficult discussions ahead but, you have him and he you. And you know this isn’t changing.

The room isn’t burning anymore.

Tags: @minseoparkuniverse ​ @lydzisanerd @tedwardos

[fatiguing-thoughts]

“New Moon” - Jasper Hale Miniseries Part 2

I woke up in the morning to an empty side of the bed next to me.

“No, no, no!” I exclaim, running my hands sporadically throughout the spot where Jasper laid next to me last night.

This couldn’t be real, but it was real.

I grabbed my phone off the desk and called Jasper.

“Sorry, the number you have called is out of service.”

I called the rest of the family, all the same. I wanted to scream, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My head was spinning, I was having a panic attack. I felt like I was dying.

Before I knew it, I hit the floor.

I woke up hours later, waking up to my living nightmare. It felt like my heart was ripped clean out of my chest, with no promise of return.

How could life rob me of the people I loved most in my life? Take away my families that gave me love, twice?

When the car accident happened on my way home from high school graduation, it killed my entire family. I was the only survivor. I moved to Washington to start a new life, I was too depressed to live in my home anymore, I couldn’t bare to live in that house. I moved to Olympia and attended Evergreen State College. Portland became too much for me, I had to go.

After I met Jasper and his family, things grew easier for me. The hole in my heart slowly filled. I felt loved again, people cared for me like a family. They loved and respected me; I was not lonely anymore. Holidays weren’t spent crying alone anymore, they were spent surrounded by love. I miss my family dearly but was grateful for a second chance for a family. But now, it was once again ripped from my hands at the hand of someone else.

 I stumbled over to my desk, looking at the pictures of my handsome boyfriend and myself. I noticed that he took one; I hope he looks at it as much as I look at them.

 I thought back to how I met Jasper. I was shopping in Port Angeles, as I like to drive and take road trips at any given chance. I ran into three beautiful women on that rainy day. The tiniest of the three, who I then learned was Alice, looked at me, stared blankly, and dropped what was in her hands at that time. The other two women turned to look at me, before going back to her. She whispered something to them. They all looked at me quizzically before approaching me. I hung out with them for quite some time, befriending them. I know now that she had a vision, she knew I was Jasper’s mate. Rosalie and I clicked very well. We exchanged numbers and agreed to hang out at some point. I spent the rest of the day with them. At one point their adoptive brother, Jasper, met up with us as he needed to shop too.

 When Jasper and I made eye contact, all of the air left my lungs. I almost collapsed to the floor, my knees buckled and I gripped onto Rosalie’s arm for support. Alice was smiling uncontrollably as the same thing seemed to happen to Jasper.

 “Hello, my name is Jasper Hale.” He says, reaching out his hand for me to take.

 “I’m (Y/N Y/L/N).” I said, short of breath, meeting my hand to his.

 He grabbed my hand and kissed it, causing me to blush uncontrollably.

The sweet memory caused me to smile, before heading back into reality.

The situation daunted on me, I was alone. I had nobody with me, wouldn’t have anyone with me for quite some time. My best friends, my family, my love-- they’re all gone without a trace.

 So I did what I could, I laid in my bed and stared at the ceiling for God knows how long. I had class in an hour and had to go, so I wouldn’t lose sight of my goal. Only now there was a new motive: to see Jasper sooner.

 I went to my class, but none of it felt real. It was all a blur. When I returned to my dorm room, I stared out my window.

 And that’s how I spent all of my time now, watching the world around me change as I stayed the same. I was too depressed to do anything extra. I went to class, tried to listen, and did the work I had to do. People spoke to me, but it fell upon deaf ears.

 I left Jasper and Rosalie voicemails on a daily basis. I wrote letters for Jasper daily, planning to give him them all at once when, even though it felt more like an if, I ever get to see him again.

 Being indefinitely separated from my mate left me feeling as if I was living in hell. My nightmares came back, and they came back worse.

 I would wake up screaming, having the RA banging on my door to see if I was okay, as people called it in thinking someone was dying. Though I wasn’t physically dying, I felt like I was. I was emotionally and mentally drained as the weeks went on. Weeks turned into months. By the time October rolled around, I still hadn’t talked to anyone. I was so isolated that I even forgot that other people attended this school.

 Until one day, a kid in my busines statistics class spoke to me.

 “Hey, do you know what we’re doing? I don’t really understand this.” He says to me, trying to smile in a friendly way.

 “Uh, yeah.” I say shyly.

 I explained the problem to him and turned my attention back towards the lecture.

“Thank you, (Y/N).” He said nicely.

“You know my name?” I said surprisingly. I was so down and lost in my own head, I never learned his name.

“Well, it is on your paper.” He said chuckling.

“Ah yes. That’s true. And your name?” I ask, trying to force myself to talk. After all, this is the most social interaction I’ve had since Jasper left a month ago.

“Mark. It’s nice to finally hear something out of you.” He teased.

I smiled back and chuckled out a “Yeah, that’s fair.”

The class came to an end and with that, I left to go sulk in my room.

Every class, Mark tried to talk to me more and more. He was very nice, I just didn’t feel a need to make any friends anymore.

“Hey listen (Y/N), I know you didn’t do anything for Halloween. Thanksgiving break is coming up in a couple of weeks. I think you need to have some fun. My friends and I are hanging out this weekend at my place. I think you should come by and try the whole, social, thing.” Mark kindly offers.

I sat and thought about it. What was there to lose? I didn’t necessarily want to go, but maybe it would be a nice distraction that wasn’t staring out my window all weekend.

“Ok Mark. I’ll stop by for a little while.” I said calmly.

“Oh wow, actually? That was easier than I thought.” He laughs.

He hands me his phone with a new contact page up. I add myself and hand the phone back.

The class ends and I head back to my dorm.

After sitting for about an hour looking out my window, my phone buzzes. It was Mark.

“So we’ll see you tomorrow at 6:30. Please try to have fun.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ll try my best.” I respond.

I started writing Jasper’s letter before I stare at the backpack I’ve yet to open.

I can’t explain why I couldn’t. I was just so nervous. But it was time. It’s been almost two months since the Cullens left.

I unzip the massive backpack and see an absurd amount of cash, some papers, and some little packages. I open the papers first. One is the address of the new apartment and the other two are sealed with my name on it.

I open the first one and see a receipt? I look closer and see that he had paid off the duration of my tuition here. I almost cried at the thought of it, and I would’ve if I had any tears left. 

I open the second one and see his handwriting. I stopped breathing for a second.

“Dear (Y/N),

         I’m so sorry for what is happening Darlin’. I hope this ends sooner than later because not being with you is the worst pain that I could ever fathom. I hope you treat yourself well, please take care of yourself. I can’t wait to see you again, my love. Soon enough, we’ll have forever together. Do well in school, it’s important. I left you what I think you’ll need in this bag, please don’t miss anything in it. I will see you soon enough, doll.

          Love always,

Jasper Whitlock Hale”

My tears dropped upon the paper. I opened the rest of the bag.

I saw a little rectangle box. I opened it and gasped. It was a necklace with a “J” on it. I held it close to my chest before putting it on.

It almost felt like he was real again. It felt like I wasn’t just imagining everything that happened to me.

I grabbed a picture of he and I before climbing into bed and holding it to my chest. I laid there until I fell asleep holding it.

When I woke up, it was 10 am. I did some homework and decided to finally go see the apartment that Jasper picked for me.

I ate some breakfast and got in my car. About an hour or so later, I pulled into the parking lot of a cute complex. I go up to mine and look around. It felt so empty despite being furnished. I walk into the kitchen and see a note on the counter. It was from Jasper.

“Hey Doll, it looks like you found the apartment. I hope you like what we’ve done with it for you.”

I almost instinctively crumpled the note up in my hands as I held it to my chest, but stopped myself. I put it back on the counter before finding my bedroom. It was customized just for me, that’s for sure. My eyes welled up with tears and I couldn’t control myself when I saw the framed picture of Jasper and I on the wall. I looked out the window and admired the view of the tree line. I missed my boyfriend more than anything. This was going to be hard. At about 4 or so, I decided to head back to school after dropping some of my stuff in the apartment.

 I get back and get ready to go to Mark’s hangout. This would not only be my first social setting in some time, but my first big group of people in months. I was so afraid I could get sick.

 I drive to the address that Mark gave me and let him know I was there. I looked around and noticed that this was definitely a frat house. Well, let’s hope for the best.

He came outside to come get me. I exited the car and followed him inside to see about 25 people in the living room and kitchen area. This was going to be a nightmare. 

“Hey (Y/N), thanks for coming. Can I get you something to drink?” Mark offers.

“No thank you, I have water with me.”

“What? You don’t want a shot or anything?” He asked me confused.

“Mark I’m driving. I also don’t drink, but thank you.” I tell him.

As I look around I become increasingly aware of the fact that I’m the only female here.

“Did I crash a boy’s night or something?” I ask him.

“No I just wanted everyone to meet you.” He says.

“Oh?” I said puzzled.

“Is this her? Is this (Y/N)?” A large man comes up and asks Mark,

“Yes it is.” Mark answered. “(Y/N), this is Joe.”

“Hi Joe. Nice to meet you.” I said shyly.

“Hello. You’re right Mark, she is really pretty. You should ask her out.”

Ah there it is, the reason I was invited.

“Please go away, Joe.” Mark said as he pushed Joe out of the conversation.

“Well…” Mark trails off, looking at me.

“Well what?” I ask back.

“Would you wanna go out some time?” He asked nervously.

“Mark, I’m flattered. Thank you but I’m actually with someone. It’s pretty serious. I appreciate the gesture, though.” I say nicely.

“So why are you alone all the time?” He asks me, with kind of annoyed tone.

“Because he’s not here right now?” I said questioning his tone.

“Well, let’s just get you to have some fun tonight.” He said, pulling me further into the house by my hand.

As I walk through, all I see is drunk men. I haven’t been this uncomfortable in so long.

I sit on the couch alone and look around. I check my phone, nothing.

“What’s a pretty girl like you sitting all alone for?” I hear from above me.

My stomach turned as I look up and see a guy about the size of Emmett.

Emmett. I miss my chaos twin. I miss them all so much.

I lost my track of thought when I felt the couch dip next to me and someone throwing their arm over my shoulder.

Once again, the feeling of nausea was returning. The pit in my stomach was turning.

“So, what’s your name? Jasmine? Jade? Am I close?” He says, reaching out to twiddle his fingers around my “J” necklace.

I quickly grab my necklace from his grasp.

“No, my name is (Y/N). The J is my boyfriend’s initial. His name is Jasper.” I snapped at him.

“Oh, so where is your boyfriend, then? Why would he leave you all alone? Doesn’t seem like he cares very much if you’re alone all the time, or if you came here alone.” He said in a whisper as he caressed my arm. I could smell the liquor on his breath.

I wish I knew where he was.

“He does, he’s busy doing something important.” I said harshly as I pull my arm away quickly.

My phone begins to go off in my pocket, I get up to look at the screen. It’s an unknown number. Hell I’d answer anyone, even a spam call, to get out of this situation right now.

“Hello?” I say into the phone, happy just to have a break in whatever that situation was turning into.

“(Y/N), leave. Now.” It was Alice.

“Alice?” I basically scream into the phone.

“(Y/N), please leave. Never speak to them again. Get out, go home.” She says as I hear the call end.

I ran out of the house, started my car, and left. My worries weren’t for nothing. They were going to hurt me.

But as I drove home, none of that really stayed on my mind.

Alice called me; I couldn’t even trace a number. I couldn’t call back. For once I felt like they were real again. I began to cry, I missed them so much. The most I heard from them in months was a fifteen second phone call. I didn’t get to talk, it was just so I wouldn’t let myself get hurt.

I pulled into my usual parking spot and headed up to my dorm room. Hoping that this semester ends soon enough. I only have two weeks before Winter break. This couldn’t come sooner.

I crawled into my bed, staring at the J on my necklace until I fell asleep.

 Jasper’s POV

Hearing the phone call was too much for me.

Hearing about Alice’s vision was too much for me.

This was all too much for me. I needed to see (Y/N).

I needed to go there and kill every single one of them. If it wasn’t for Emmett and Carlisle holding me back and calming me down, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.

I was sick of just hoping my fragile (Y/N) would be okay. It wasn’t enough for me that Alice was watching with her visions.

I have an anger so deep within me that I could destroy anything in my path. So that’s what I did with Emmett. We went outside and broke boulders about fifteen miles from where we were staying. It was how I was gonna keep myself calm.

“I’m really sorry Jasper.” Emmett says to me.

“Thank you, Emmett.” I look back at him.

“We all miss her too, I know it’s different. But it hurts us too. I wish she could’ve come. But we’ll see her soon.” He says to me.

“I want it more than anything. I would also like to show up to that party.” My voice trailed off. If vampires could cry, I’d have been crying from the start of this conversation.

“I know, but we can’t. We have to be happy nothing happened to her. So I really can’t let you go do that.” He pats the back of my left shoulder.

I nodded to him. Emmett was truly the best brother I could ask for. Rosalie picked an amazing mate, and I owe her one for that.

“Do you smell that?” He says, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

“Bears?” I say, a little bit of the predator side in me taking over.

“Yeah, I think it’s time for dinner.” He says smirking.

And just like that we were off, racing to find a bear.

 *********

Word Count: 2973

[shekissesturians]

~Sun Showers ~ Mirio x Fem!Reader/Oc (Chapter 1)

Synopsis~ Quirks are as much a blessing as they are a curse.

This is the reality Toogata Mirio is confronted with upon interning with Nighteye Agency. It is hard to create a program that can counsel all the different varieties of abilities that can manifest in a quirk. Most follow a basic formula that is easy to adapt and control... while others fall through the crack with a quirk that does not fit into counseling parameters.

When Mirio responds to a flyer that is seeking help for a final art project, he encounters a girl who clearly is one the few who has fallen through the cracks. The more he gets to know her the more he learns how unstable her quirk is.If she doesn't gain control, he fears that she might become one of the many who become another problem in the system. A statistic that is "treated" and lost.

He can't let that happen.

He won't let her fall. ~

Chapter 1- 3,520 words - Ao3 link 

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Wanted to post a full version on Tumblr as it might be easier for some to read. Hope you enjoy <3

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Mirio thoughtfully thumbed the green flyer in his hand as he looked around himself trying to gain somewhat of a handle on his surroundings. The one thing he knew was that he was currently at Tsukuru High School…. And that was the current extent of his knowledge. Currently, he was in decent sized courtyard that had a strip of grass planted down the center with benches dashed along on either side. Around the courtyard was a string of tan doors situated under white awnings, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out where their room markers were. This school wasn’t nearly as big as U.A. so he had figured it would be no problem finding the room mentioned on the flyer! Alas… he was gravely mistaken.

Mirio quickly brought the flier back up to his face reading it over for a third time now-

~Wanted ~

Nude models for final art project.

3 session commitment.

Will compensate time with a paid in full dinner.

This is professional - I really need to pass my class.

I promise it will be a good dinner!

If interested meetup time is from 3pm-5pm at classroom B32a at Tsukuru High School.

I will be there every day, please consider!!

Please!!

- 3rd year, Ueno Yua

He had discovered the flier while patrolling with Bubble Girl and knew immediately he needed to help out a fellow student in need! Especially after they asked so kindly, and he would get free dinner out of it which was an especially nice bonus!

It all worked out perfectly, Sir Nighteye had him doing patrols from 11am till 1pm, then a check in from 1pm till 2pm, which would give him more than enough time to get across town to Tsukuru High within the time stated on the flier! Unless he got horribly lost… which he did- because for some reason this school decided not to mark their classrooms!

Mirio released a deep sigh just as he felt a small tap on his shoulder. He froze, glancing over his shoulder to see a pair of big grey eyes looking up at him from underneath deep cyan hued bangs.

“Excuse me? Are you lost?” The girl’s voice was gentle and soft, so soft it took Mirio a second to hear what she had said, “ Um, pardon? Are you lost?” She repeated a second time a bit louder when she realized he couldn’t hear her.

“Oh!” He brightened into a smile, finally pulling the flier away from his face, “I am lost, how’d ya know!?”

The girl, who appeared to be around his age, pointed to his uniform. Mirio’s gaze followed her finger to where it was pointing inches away from his chest.

“We have different uniforms.” She stated politely, but very matter of fact.

He looked back and forth between the two of them, quickly noticing the differences. While his uniform was the standard U.A. green and white, this girls’ was white with a red and blue plaid on her short skirt and tie.

Mirio released a quick laugh, “ Yeah I guess that is an easy tell, isn’t it?” He looked back over to her and held out the flier for her to see, “ I’m here because of this flier. I am looking for room B32a, do you know where that is?”

The girl blinked as the flier was thrusted in her direction. She looked over it briefly before her eyes widened and a huge smile spread across her face.

“That’s me!” She suddenly pressed her hands together in a cheer. Her voice still soft but now filled with excitement, “That’s my flier!”

“Wait, this is your flier!?” Mirio couldn’t help but smile along with the girl’s new infections excitement. It was a complete switch from the quiet demeanor she had displayed just moments ago. Now she was bouncing in place, her short hair bobbing on her shoulders, while she practically glowed from ear to ear.

… It was pretty cute.

“Yes! I’m Ueno Yua!” She quickly grabbed his hand, pulling him into an overly excited handshake.

Mirio laughed, “I’m Toogata Mirio, nice to meet you, Ueno!”

“Oh, thank you so much for coming!” She quickly turned, shifting her grip to pull him towards a nearby room, “B32a is right over here!”

Mirio stumbled behind her as she practically dragged him under the awning pathway that lined all the classroom entrances. It wasn’t until he was underneath that he finally spotted the classroom numbers above the door.

They were there the whole time!?

Jeesh.

“You can’t see the numbers if you aren’t under the pathway.” Yua pointed above the door. She looked back at Mirio to see defeated realization etched across his face.

Her smile instantly sunk with concern, “Ah…I should have wrote it in the flier! Maybe that’s why others haven’t shown up…”

“You mean, you haven’t gotten any other models?” Mirio straightened his posture as she released his hand to pull an ID card out of her skirt pocket.

“You’re the first.” Yua pressed the card to a black reader pad next to the classroom door. With a light click, the door was pulled open and instantly the smells of solvents and paints waft out of the room.

Mirio was instantly consumed with curiosity as he entered. It was nothing like any classroom he had seen before! There was a whimsical chaotic-ness to the room. Wood easels were spewed about with no real organization in mind. Some held canvas’, some did not, but all of them were spattered in an array of paint stains which gave each easel its own unique character.

Behind the forest of easels, on the far back wall, was a large metal trough sink. The counter space surrounding it was piled with different sized cups and containers. Mirio grinned as he continued to take in the room. While the classroom was colored in grey and white tones it was the aftermath paint splatters and spills across the floor and even the walls that gave the classroom its warmth and color.

While Mirio explored the room further, Yua walked over to her easel that was set up near the center of the room and began to prep her station.

“Thank you again by the way,” She spoke out to Mirio. He paused in his current exploration of a large shelved wall that house nearly every color of paint one could imagine. “- for coming to model. You saved me, I would have failed my project.”

He grinned back rubbing a finger under his nose.“Well, that is what heroes do!”

Yua curiously tilted her head as she fiddled with some of the paints on the small table next to her easel, “Oh! You’re a hero?”

“Well, working on it.” Mirio made his way back towards her, “I go to U.A.”

“Really!? Wow, you must be something then!” Yua excitedly squeezed the brushes in her hands tighter, “I get to capture a future Pro- hero in my painting!? It really is my lucky day!”

Her actions caused him to chuckle, she was definitely an easily excited person.

Now Yua’s attention wasn’t even on him anymore. She was looking up towards the ceiling completely encapsulated by her thoughts, whatever they might be.

Mirio had a hunch though.

He could see it, the passion she had about her work. It made him even more pleased that he decided to answer the flier. It wasn’t what one would consider “normal” hero work but he was helping someone in need so it definitely counted in his book! As a bonus, she seemed to be really nice as well.

“Okay.” Yua finally breathed out seeming to gather her thoughts just as Mirio reached the painting station she had created around her easel, “I know exactly what I want now.”

She sat down her brushes before walking towards the center of the room. Yua turned motioning for Mirio to follow her as stepped up onto a raised platform that was draped with a thick red sheet.

“So you will be posed here,” She gestured beside herself, “ - and If you could go ahead and get undress I will adjust the lighting.” Again her eyes drifting to the ceiling in thought while she chewed lightly on her bottom lip, “I was thinking about a kneeling pose.”

Mirio watched as Yua knelt down on the platform resting on her right knee while her left leg stayed up in a bent position.

“Like this!” Yua guided, “Oh I will need to get you a cushion for your knee…” She noted feeling the pressure of her own on the hard surface, “- but then I’ll have you lean over your leg and look to the ground.”

Mirio nodded, studying her examples carefully, “I can definitely do that!”

“Wonderful!” She popped back up to her feet with a smile. Once again she pressed the palms of her hands together happily, “I have a cushion over here we can put under your knee once you cha-”

Yua’s voice froze she turned to see Mirio instantly phase out of his entire school uniform,

“What happened to your clothes!?” She quickly rubbed her eyes with her fists making sure she had just correctly seen a man permeate through clothing.

“Oh that’s just my quirk. Pretty nifty huh??” Mirio stepped away from his clothes with a smile, “So you just want me over here?” He stepped up onto the platform.

Yua stared at him with unwavering eyes as he stepped up next to her. She had figured he was in shape being at U.A. and all but she never imagined him being in that good of shape. His physique completely through her off guard, but in a great way, this was better than anything she could have hoped for!

Mirio could feel her gaze carefully trailing over his form, examining him with what he could only describe as… inquisitive intrigue. Still, when her bottom lip was captured between her teeth as she slipped into another bout of deep thought, he couldn’t help the tint that rose to his cheeks.

She was really too cute to be making a face like that while he stood next to her naked!

“...You really work out huh?” Yua finally released her lip.

Mirio couldn’t help the snort of a laugh that escaped him, “Oh you know, on occasion.” He teased.

His voice seemed to snap Yua out of her daze as she quickly covered her mouth with her hands. A mortified wave of emotion washed over her features upon the realization she had just been staring at him in the most unprofessional way possible.

“Sorry!” She quickly bowed, hoping that she had not made him too uncomfortable…. That was until she realized she was now face to face with his crotch.

Yua’s eyes widened in absolute horror, “Sorry again!!” She squeaked, immediately covering her hands over her eyes and tripping over her feet as she tried to turn away from him.

“It’s okay!! It’s okay!!” Mirio kept repeating. He slapped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to conceal his laughter and not embarrass the poor girl even more, but the series of antics that had just unfolded was too much.

While Yua squatted down into a ball rambling of apologies, Mirio suddenly felt himself begin to sweat as an intense wave of heat hit the room.

“It’s alright Ueno! No worries!!” He tried to reassure her as his laughter finally calmed.

The shroud of heat that suddenly encompassed the classroom was now thickening the air like a sauna.

“Ueno, I’m sorry, but do you feel like it got really hot in here all of the sudden??” Large beads of sweat were now accumulating his skin. This wasn’t in his head, the temperature definitely changed in the room.

As soon as the words left his mouth Yua’s string of apologies halted. She removed her hands from over her eyes, lifting up her palms to take in the new sensation around them.

“… It’s me.” Yua’s voice softened as she returned her hands to cover her face, the red tint on her cheeks deepening.

“Pardon?” Mirio leaned down trying to hear her better. She was talking softly again and he could barely hear her. His hands fanned his face furiously as he waited for her response, it was getting hotter by the second!

“My quirk!” Yua forced her voice to speak up, “It’s … it’s because I’m embarrassed.” She slapped her face a few times with the palms of her hands in an attempt to knock out the embarrassment.

At her words, a light suddenly clicked on in Mirio’s head, everything made complete sense now!

“You don’t need to be embarrassed Ueno!” He quickly jumped into a crouch in front of her, “I’m the one that's naked, I should be embarrassed!”

“No, no.” She shook her head and began to pinch her own cheeks, “ You’re the model, I’m supposed to make you feel comfortable, but I just bowed my head into your crotch!”

There was a warm haze to everything in the room now. The temperature was getting close to unbearable. It quickly became obvious to Mirio that Yua did not have very good control of her quirk…. If any at all.

“You’re not the first person to get up close and personal with my willy, I’m used to it!” He tried to brush off her concern, until he saw her eyes widen through her fingers, “ Wait… that didn’t come out right.”

A sudden spike in heat forced Mirio to cringe. He could barely breathe at this point, it felt as though he was about to burn alive, but he couldn’t just run out and leave her alone. He had to think of a way to help her. He was a hero, he could do this!

“So get this,” Mirio forced up a smile, steam was now beginning to swirl around them. He had to work quickly, “I tell dad jokes, but I don't have any kids…. Guess that makes me a faux pa.”

Yua peaked up at him through her fingers to see the huge grin he was holding even though his face was turning beet red from the heat.

“So when does a joke become a dad joke?” Mirio paused for a beat, “….When it becomes apparent!”

Yua couldn’t contain the smile that broke through the cover of her hands as he continued.

It was working! Mirio could feel the heaviness of heat in the room begin to dissipate along with the swirls of steam. Now he just had to land the big finisher!

“Did you know… your Japanese when you go into the bathroom, and you’re Japanese when you come out of the bathroom, but do you know what you are while you’re in there?” He raised a brow in Yua’s direction with a pause making sure he had her full attention, “European!”

At his last word, Yua’s laughter broke into the room instantly causing the wave of intense heat to dissipate.

Mirio couldn’t contain the deep sigh he released at the sudden temperature change. He felt like he could breathe again! His chest rose and fell with each breath as he began to cool down. Sweat was dripping down his face but he couldn’t help but genuinely smile as he watched Yua laugh.

It was a deep laugh, a hearty laugh… a nice laugh.

“Those... were horrible.” Yua’s laughter slowed into a chuckle before she flashed Mirio a grateful smile.

“Hey now!” He tried to wipe the sweat that was still dripping into his eyes away with his forearm, “You laughed. You thought they were funny!”

“They were funny and horrible.” She locked her eyes with his, “Thank you, Toogata.”

“Any time!” Mirio straightened his posture, “Though I’m sorry, I’m so sweaty now.” He looked down at himself, he was literally drenched in a sheen of sweat.

“No, no,” Yua looked over his form with him, “This is actually perfect, don’t wipe any off! It’s defining your physique, and with the right lighting you’ll be even better to paint now!” An excited glow was back on her features.

Mirio smiled as he watched her quickly rush about - grabbing a pillow, adjusting the standing lights around the platform, and situating the red sheet across the pedestal to her liking. She was back to being passionate and focused as though they both weren’t just nearly baked alive.

He could tell though, this probably wasn’t the first time an incident like this occurred. Though her overall disposition was bright there was a lingering sullenness in her eyes he just couldn’t shake concern for.

Once Mirio was in the position Yua wanted, she quickly skipped over to her easel and got right into laying paint down onto the canvas.

“So if you don’t mind me asking, what is your quirk? Cus honestly that was pretty crazy!” He tried to speak as upbeat as possible, he was so curious but hated to trigger another occurrence.

“Oh….” Yua responded, slowing in her painting a bit as she thought through how to answer his question.

“- And I mean crazy in a good way!” Mirio quickly added, turning his head towards her so she could see his smile.

“It’s weather.” Yua spoke up after finishing a few strokes on the canvas, “It’s triggered by my emotions, so… I have a hard time controlling it….”

“That’s pretty sweet though!” Mirio chimed in making sure she wouldn’t have a chance to feel negative. He could tell from the way her voice was softening it wasn’t something she was necessarily comfortable talking about, “ So you could make it rain, or snow, or anything like that?”

Yua couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips from the enthusiasm of Mirio’s questions. She found the positivity over her quirk pretty refreshing.

“I can.” She answered, splitting her attention between him and the canvas in front of her.

“So which emotion would make it snow?” Mirio thoughtfully inquired, “That would be awesome for on a hot summer day!”

Yua paused from her painting to study Mirio for a moment, she had never thought about her quirk in such a way before,

“… I don’t know,” She went back to her work, shading in the contours of his back, “It’s often rather random, …many times I don’t even realize it's me right away… Honestly, I try to avoid triggering it.”

“All quirks take practice, gosh I still lose my clothes on a regular basis!” Mirio poked fun at himself, trying to lift her own spirits.

He didn’t know Yua at all, but the thought of her feeling such turmoil with her quirk made he himself feel downhearted. There were still red marks on her cheeks from where she had been pinching herself earlier, trying to get her quirk to stop. She was really struggling, perhaps even more than he initially realized in the moment.

“I can only imagine.” She giggled, “Doesn’t it get frustrating though?”

“Well yeah, of course!” Mirio glanced over his leg to watch her paint for a moment, “But it also makes people laugh, so I think that’s a pretty great trade-off.”

He watched Yua captured her bottom lip in her teeth, she was thinking again, contemplating something important.

“You really like to make others laugh, don’t you Toogata?” She finally released her lip, turning to dip her brush into a jar of gamsol before dipping it into a new color of paint.

“Absolutely! I mean you never know whose around that might need a pick-me-up. Laughter can really change a lot for people, also… it’s just fun don’t yah think?” He flashed her a bright grin.

“Yeah… ” Yua made eye contact with him for a moment before turning back to her work, “It is…. so where would you like to eat after we are done?” She completed a few more strokes before picking up some more paint on the tip of her brush, “I definitely owe you a good dinner after this session.”

��Oh yeah!” Mirio nearly forgot, “My payment!”

“Have you been to Kaiyo Joō?” Yua smiled, focusing on her work, but keeping her attention on Mirio.

“Oh that’s good! I won’t get sushi there though.” Mirio responded.

“Really why?” Yua tilted her head in question.

“It’s a little fishy.”

Yua nearly knocked over her canvas at his comment as she snorted out a laugh.

Mirio couldn’t help but laugh along with her, and he was sure for a second he felt a crisp breeze swirl throughout the room.

... She really did have a nice laugh.

Next- Chapter 2

[starryeyedkoo]

Genre: badboy!au, gang!au, college!au, angst!!, fluff

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: mature language, alcohol use (including mention of underage drinking which i do not condone), violence, minor character death, brief mention of addiction, tsundere jungkook, (cheesy) angst around every. corner. (seriously it never stops i’m sorry)

Word Count: 22.9k (here we go again i’m so sorry)

“Do you regret it?” “What?” “Falling in love with me? It feels like I only weigh you down.” “I’ll let you pull me down to the depths of hell if that’s what it means to love you.”

a/n: this story is just cliche after cliche… because i’m a hoe for cliches, so hopefully it’s not too much hehe. this fic was really self-indulgent and dramatic so be warned !! also this fic was inspired by the dialogue i wrote above (which actually didn’t even make it into the story) and these songs: Harder by Oliver Riot and Someone to Stay by Vancouver Sleep Clinic

You tapped the end of your pencil on the surface of the desk you sat at in an attempt to keep your eyes from drooping shut while you worked on the last few problems of your Statistics test. Your ears zeroed in on every sound present in the room, including the flipping of a page coming from behind you, the sniffling from the boy across the room that has been a persistent provocation for the last hour and a half, and also the boy sitting a seat away from you who huffed out a breath and sent you an irritated glance. You pursed your lips and quickly steadied the grasp of your pencil before it became an even bigger annoyance to him.

After what felt like an excruciatingly long hour and a half, you had finally made it to the end of your test with each problem filled out and just a few seconds to spare. Once time was called, you were quick to make your way to turn in your packet and then you turned straight towards the exit. Just as you were only a few meager steps in front of the professor’s desk, he called you over asking if he could speak with you. “Ms. _____, how was the test?” You stopped short, a little confused as to why he had stopped you from walking straight out of there. Before you could produce an easy answer to quickly end the conversation, he interrupted you, “Please feel free to let me know if you need some extra help. I know statistics isn’t easy, so I understand if you’re struggling a bit.”

Your brows drew together in confusion and you glanced around the room at the last lucky students making their way out before you could, each of them dropping their test packets on the corner of his desk and turning the other way. “What makes you think I need help?” You flashed a pleasant smile to maintain respect towards your teacher.

“Well, as I’m sure you know, the curriculum of our university is especially challenging, and I know it may be a bit of a strain for you,” he offered, gesturing towards you in what you were sure was of a demeaning nature.

The smile melted off your face and you found it difficult to keep your lips from turning down in disbelief. “It’s not too different from anything I’ve had to do before.”

“Is that so?” your professor inquired with a doubtful smirk creeping onto his face, and that had been the last straw.

“Actually,” you corrected, suddenly feeling brave and bold enough to defend yourself, “I believe my private high school’s rigor was much more difficult to tolerate than this, but thank you for your concern.” Your false thankfulness did not extend to your facial features, lips turned into a scowl. “Believe it or not, sir, I made it into this university through hard work, not just connections and thick stacks of cash.” You slammed your test paper down onto his desk, making daring eye contact with him for only a moment before turning to take your leave. “Have a nice day,” you bid him sarcastically, striding out the exit.

As soon as you were far enough to overcome the blinding frustration you had just unleashed, you quickly realized you would most likely regret giving your teacher that attitude, but honestly, he deserved it. Screw him.

After anger came the frustration that you had been facing since you enrolled in this university that had been beating down on you like heavy rain, slowly wearing you out the longer you had to withstand it. Nearly everyone you met would soon make the connection between you and your family name and make assumptions about you, several of them nasty. Your least favorite of the rumors however, and maybe it was because it was the most frequent, was that you paid your way into university. For some reason, people couldn’t seem to fathom the idea of you having a functioning brain, and you were getting sick of it.

During your walk, the sky creeped open and rain began to drizzle down, further dampening your mood. Then in the distance, quickly becoming louder, you heard the boom of the bass from the speakers of a car. Next thing you knew, you saw a convertible with its top down coming down the road, filled to more than its full capacity with young men, and just as you had expected it slowed as it was about to pass you. “Hey, little lady, why don’t you come for a ride with us?” one of the boys offered slyly.

You refused to even pretend to play along though, and instead you just put in your earphones and turned your music up to max volume to drown them out until they had enough fun and turned around. It definitely was not the first time that had happened. Frequently, actually, boys would cross over into this side of town and entertain themselves by messing with the snooty, rich folk. You couldn’t blame them, to be honest. Sometimes you felt the same way. Sometimes, you wished you could disassociate yourself with everything that had to do with this city and start something new where no one had any idea who you or your family were.

You were feeling bored, unfulfilled… You really weren’t sure what it was, but you were feeling just as gray and lifeless as the cloudy sky. The concrete streets and buildings of the city. Even the river’s flowing water displayed a dead, sooty color under the gloomy sky. You began to wonder if your eyes were one day going to reflect the same shade.

“No! Absolutely not! This is ridiculous!” Your mother barked, angrily pressing her finger harshly down onto the remote’s power button as the screen of the television went dark. The news anchor had just been reporting on today’s commencement of the new policy enacted by your city to allow ‘free entry of especially gifted students from less fortunate communities’ into the most prestigious university in your city. “I am paying way too much money to send you to this school to keep you away from these thugs, and now they get to waltz on in there for absolutely no charge?”

By ‘thugs’ she meant, of course, the people from the west side of the city. You barely suppressed the eye roll that crept up on you. “If you really wanted me away from them, you should have let me leave the city like I wanted.”

“Yeah, you far enough away where I can’t keep an eye on you? That won’t be happening.” She shook her head disapprovingly before returning her attention to her laptop, typing away at the keyboard. Suddenly, her phone began to ring, and she quickly scooped it up, composing herself before answering with a business-like greeting and excusing herself from the room.

You sighed, checking your phone for the time, the digital numbers indicating that you had thirty-five minutes until your morning lecture on photography, so you placed your plate in the sink, leaving it for the cleaning service to take care of when they came later in the day, as they did every other day. You scooped up your bag and slipped your shoes on, calling to your mother who was most likely already in her office, “Okay, Mom, I’m heading out!” No response. You gave a quick sigh before mumbling to yourself, “Bye.”

Because your house was conveniently located in the busy part of town, and the university stood just outside the business district, it was a relatively short walk, only about twenty minutes long. Your mother insisted she could have her driver take you to and from classes, but you denied. You would much rather walk than draw more attention to yourself and risk looking like a spoiled brat, even though your college was mostly comprised of students who came from wealthy families like you had.

You quickly decided that stopping for a coffee on the way to class was a poor decision on your part now that you were ever so casually speeding down the last block to get there in time. You were heading to the row just a few back from the front as you always did when you spotted an unfamiliar face in the very seat you had claimed since the beginning of the semester. The rest of the row was practically empty since this was a fairly small class. He seriously couldn’t have picked any other spot?

You slowly approached, careful to keep a friendly smile on your face, especially since he seemed to be a new student. You set your bag in the seat next to him before speaking quietly, “Excuse me, but would you mind moving down a few seats? This is usually where I sit.”

The boy looked up from under his black bangs that fell over his forehead. “Aren’t there plenty of other seats to choose from?” he deadpanned, looking up and down the nearly empty row of seats. The polite smile faltered for a moment before you exaggerated it even more.

“I suppose there are…” you reluctantly agreed through clenched teeth, picking up your bag and moving yourself down a few seats from the boy who was now fiddling with his camera he had brought to class. Just moments later, your professor came in, greeting the class and beginning the lecture. You quickly brought out your notebook and your own camera, and you noticed the eyes of the boy sitting next to you staring intently at your camera. Brows turning down in petty dislike for this new student, you brought your hand up to take the strap and pull it closer to you, not afraid to let him to see your scowl.

After another very long and confusing photography lecture, you were once again puzzled by the assignment you had been given and you reluctantly had to ask your professor for help before you left the classroom. You didn’t think this class would be so difficult. You only took it as an elective for an easy A, but instead it ended up being much more complicated than you had initially anticipated. No matter how much you played around, you couldn’t figure out how to get the perfect picture with the right details like everyone else could. “Professor Choi,” you called for her attention. She looked up from the stack of papers she was arranging at her desk while you slung your bag over your shoulder and approached her with hurried steps. “I just had a quick question about exactly how to use—”

“Ms. _____, I’m sorry, but I cannot keep answering your questions about the functions of your camera. This should be prior knowledge or something to study and experiment with in your own time. If you need help, you should consider getting advice from another student who is more well-versed with a camera.” She suddenly looked behind you and you followed her gaze, finding the same boy still lingering, finally leaving from where he sat. “Like Mr. Jeon, for example,” she gestured to him, and his head perked up at the sound of his name. “He’s one of our new students from the Prodigy Program, Jeon Jungkook, and he possesses extraordinary photography skills. He would be an excellent resource for help. Mr. Jeon, how do you feel about that?”

You were quick to wave your hands in protest, voicing, “No, that’s really not necessary.”

“According to your dropping grade, I believe it is necessary, Ms. _____,” she spoke over the rim of her glasses. You felt your cheeks burn red in humiliation, catching a glimpse of the boy fighting back a smug grin. “Mr. Jeon, please tutor her in the class. She would surely appreciate it. Ms. _____, perhaps you can show him around campus and get him accustomed to the new surroundings in return.”

You stayed silent, listening to the clicking of her heels as she left the both of you behind in the empty classroom. It was silent and stiff, and you were still chewing on your bottom lip in embarrassment, especially in front of the boy with whom you had just hit it off poorly an hour prior. Jungkook suddenly cleared his throat and began to speak, but you had no interest in what he was about to say, so you shoved past him and left without a word.

You almost considered not showing up to the next class, but you swallowed your pride and walked through those doors and quickly made your way to the back corner of the room. You were sure you felt Jungkook’s eyes follow you as you passed by your usual row, where he still sat in your seat. You barely even cared anymore, though. He could have it. You would much rather finish the semester hidden in the back of the classroom.

You took no time in leaving once class was over, heading out the door to quickly reach the fresh air of the outside where you didn’t feel like you had to hold your breath, not forgetting to shoot a glare to Professor Choi as you passed by her desk. You made sure you had enough time to get to class today by choosing to not get a coffee before class started, so you decided now would be the best time to do so. You crossed through the courtyard to get to your usual cafe just outside of the campus.

Once you sat down, you brought out your laptop and your camera in order to finally figure out how this thing worked. You should have done it earlier, but you were discouraged so you let the problem fester for a few more days before finally attacking it. You were fiddling around with a few of the functions that you were reading about on your computer, desperately trying to figure out how to make your pictures look professional. You were finally able to focus once your coffee was ready, but you were once again distracted when you felt eyes on you and you looked up to search around. That’s when you spotted familiar dark bangs under a black hoodie. You quickly looked back down, hoping he hadn’t noticed you, but you soon realized he was sauntering directly over to the table you sat at.

He dropped himself down onto the chair across from yours, but he only sat there, waiting for you to say something first. “Can I help you?” you offered grumpily.

“No, but I can help you.” He still stared with the nonchalant, blank expression, which for some reason made his presence even more irritating. You ignored his offer and instead became accusing.

“How did you even know I was here? Did you follow me or something?” You looked him over suspiciously.

An impassive smirk grew on one side of his lips. “I may have seen you come this way.” You scoffed, still wondering why he would have gone out of his way to come here. “Aw, come on. Don’t be like that. I’m new around here. I’ve got no one to talk to.”

You raised a brow in disbelief. “So you came to talk to me?”

His lips suddenly turned down and his playful demeanor switched off. He leaned forward in his chair, his voice suddenly holding a deeper tone as he spoke lowly, “What, is the pretty little rich girl too good for me?” You were suddenly taken aback and your eyes went round. “Surprised?” he continued with an angry snort. “It wasn’t hard to figure out. People around campus seem to like to talk about you.”

Your shoulders drooped at the thought. “Yeah, they sure do,” you sighed, suddenly frustrated at your unavoidable reputation within your school. “I guess that’s what happens when your dad is the founder of one of the biggest tech supplier companies in Korea. Well… was. My mom took his place as CEO now, but technically it’s—” You noticed you began rambling and had already said way more than you needed to, so you quickly clamped your mouth shut, but you couldn’t stop yourself from opening it again to ramble nervously. “Sorry, I don’t know why I even brought that up,” you laughed lamely, leaning back into your seat.

Jungkook straightened himself up suddenly and his voice became strangely unnatural. “Tech supplier, huh?” You noticed something seemed rather insincere, as if his mind was preoccupied. “What about your dad? Where is he now?” He suddenly inquired casually.

Your brows shot up for only a moment before your form deflated when you answered his question. “He’s… He’s dead, actually.”

Jungkook’s eyes suddenly widened before he mumbled, “I’m sorry.” He looked remorseful, but his eyes were also unfocused and distracted, making you unsure if you should actually take his condolences seriously.

You squinted your eyes in confusion, but you ignored the weird feeling it gave you. You gave a quick smile, picking yourself up and moving on from the topic. “It’s alright. It happened a long time ago.”

Jungkook’s eyes focused back on you after he shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Anyways,” he began, steering away from the saddening subject, “I’ll help you if you need me to.”

You debated the decision for a moment, but with one look back at the indecipherable directions on the screen of your computer, you decided getting his help would be the best option. “You know what, I would actually love your help,” you sighed, taking the last sip of your coffee. You looked at the time and realized that it had been much later than you anticipated, and knowing your mother, you would soon be receiving frantic messages and phone calls wondering where you were. “But can I take a raincheck on that? I should really be going.” You gave an apologetic smile, quickly packing up your things into your backpack and waving goodbye before you hurried back home.

After the next class, you both walked to the cafe together where Jungkook would give his first lesson on how to use a camera properly and how to take the perfect picture. You smiled while sitting down after you both ordered a drink. “Again, I’m sorry that you have to spend your time teaching me how to use a camera. I can’t believe I have to get tutored in photography of all things.”

“There’s no shame in a bad grade,” he impassively remarked, hanging his leather jacket over the back of his chair before sitting across from you. “Also, not to call you out or anything, but if you want to learn more, it’s probably not the best idea to sit in the back corner during class,” he lazily raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged your shoulders, agreeing, “Yeah that’s probably true, but it’s not easy getting humiliated by your professor.”

Jungkook’s lips turned down in nonchalance. “Why do you even care what she says? I sure as hell wouldn’t.”

You looked down and traced the lines in the wood that made the table with your finger. “Yeah. I guess I’m just tired of my professors thinking that I don’t belong in this school. Most of them seem to think I’m only here because I paid my way in, and that I don’t have any actual brains,” you scowled.

He sat there, face contorted in a mix of several different emotions, but he seemed apprehensive to express what he was thinking. Usually, you would feel like an idiot if someone reacted that way to anything you said, but there was something about Jungkook doing it that made it… not so bad? You had a feeling he wasn’t the type to be a fan of “deep conversations” like these, judging by the awkward hesitance as his face twitched in thought, seemingly unable to let any expression through his ever-calm-and-collected front.

Jungkook brushed it off and suddenly he reached across the table to bring your camera closer to him to examine. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here.” He played around with a few of the buttons and twisted the lense this way and that, looking through the viewfinder, then he shook his head in disbelief. “Unbelievable! I knew I recognized the model. You’ve got the best fucking camera money can buy and you don’t even know how to use it.” You would have been offended, but then you saw the small smile that appeared on his lips, and it was the first time you had seen one that was genuine, so you stayed quiet and let him enjoy the moment. “God, I would kill for one of these…” He continued looking through the viewfinder and snapping a few pictures for what now seemed like his own amusement instead of figuring out how it worked.

“Yeah, you really seem to like it,” you smirked, waiting patiently for him to be satisfied. He froze at your remark and quickly set the camera down, clearing his throat and leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. You couldn’t help but laugh at how quickly he wiped that smile from his face when he was caught breaking his tough exterior.

He quickly wet his lips and straightened up in his seat as he began his lesson. “Okay then, let’s start with the basics.” You nodded eagerly, excited to finally gain some knowledge about a camera and hopefully be able to use it decently from now on. “The first thing you should know about is exposure. There’s three elements that make up exposure and those are aperture, shutter speed, and the ISO,” he slowly explained, pointing to each of the places on the camera that controlled each of these elements. You tried your best to follow along, but you found yourself getting distracted by the rings Jungkook wore on his fingers, and then your eyes traveled over his alarmingly good-looking hands and up the veins that ran up his forearm and suddenly you couldn’t hear a word he was saying. You shook your head lightly, trying to tune back in to Jungkook’s teaching, and this time you actually focused on his voice, but not necessarily the words it produced, but the velvety smooth sound of it.

No. This was not happening. You nervously downed the rest of your cooling coffee and looked at your phone in a panic, attempting to reel yourself back in. “You okay?” he asked in confusion, eyes flickering between you and your empty coffee cup when you unintentionally slammed it down onto the table.

Your eyes widened as you shook your head in dismissal. “N-no! I mean, yes! Everything’s fine.” He narrowed his gaze at you in doubt, but he didn’t bother to push it anyway. “Listen,” you began, eyes darting away from his gaze nervously, picking up your phone and looking for an excuse. “I actually am running short on time. I should be going.”

“I thought you had until—”

You gathered your things before standing up, chair screeching against the tiled floors. “I know,” you interrupted, wearing a guilty smile, “but my mom just texted me and she needs me.” You started toward the exit before skidding to a stop and turning back to him, still sitting there a little dumbfounded. “Can we meet after next class? No interruptions this time, I promise.” He answered with a simple nod, so you waved goodbye and pushed your way through the exit, taking a large sigh of relief once you had reached safety.

You felt bad that you had looked for an excuse to see him again, but you couldn’t help it. As much as you hated to admit it, he was undeniably attractive, and honestly, it was already driving you crazy. Besides, he still has to teach you about your camera, and you felt bad that you cut his lesson off, but you had to get out of there or else you may have lost it. You weren’t supposed to be getting distracted by a pretty face! No one had ever been able to so easily mess with your mind, but Jungkook wasn’t just anyone. He was mysterious and confusing and alluring and you were falling for it just like a cheesy romance novel protagonist. And that was terrifying because what would your mother think? You don’t know why you thought that really mattered, though. It’s just physical attraction and that can easily be ignored.

Turns out being physically attracted to someone is not so easily ignored. Here you were at the cafe sitting across from Jungkook, still completely and utterly blown away by the natural beauty of this man in front of you that you had never bothered to notice in anyone else. Not to mention, it only became more difficult to ignore that ticklish feeling in your stomach now that you’ve gotten to know him and the little quirks in his personality that he seems to suppress almost naturally, making you wonder how long he’s had to put up a front throughout his life.

“I’ve got you all figured out,” Jungkook insisted, pointing a finger in your direction, successfully snapping you out of your troubling internal monologue.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back with a challenging brow lifted. “Is that so?” You were much less timid than you had been the first time Jungkook had tried to teach you photography basics. You two had met several times now, and things had slowly become more natural between the two of you You came to enjoy his company, and you hoped it was safe to assume the same on his end. You still passed these meetings at the cafe off as “study sessions,” but you rarely got any tutoring done anymore, opting instead for conversation over a cup of coffee. Does that make you two friends? You weren’t exactly sure for yourself, and that was something you would never actually ask Jungkook, knowing he would probably find it awkward to actually talk about, even if he did consider you a friend.

“You’re just like the main character of all those cliche movies,” he explained, bringing you down from your cloudy thoughts yet again. “You’re the sheltered, well-behaved daughter who wants to rebel by doing something like getting a secret tattoo or falling for the bad boy. Tell me, am I irresistible?” He wore a cocky smirk that you were so tempted to wipe off with a slap to the face in your embarrassment, though you couldn’t help but laugh anyway. Your face burned crimson, which you hoped wouldn’t give you away, because right now, you were afraid he was dead on.

You searched desperately for a response to get him back, but as far as you knew, he was unbreakable, so you were forced to give up and retreat. “Yeah, right! I’m going to get my coffee,” you mumbled, standing up in attempt to escape and recuperate.

“Don’t worry. I already ordered it for you,” his voice came from behind. It was unusually soft compared to his normally gruff tone, and he looked out the window instead of at you. Was it just you or was he… shy?

“Oh!” you abruptly swiveled back, seeing a cup already placed on your side of the table. You picked it up to examine, looking for the markings to show its ingredients. “Is it—”

“It’s just the way you like it. I promise.”

You began digging through your purse in search of your wallet. “Let me pay you back, then,” you offered, pulling out a ten dollar bill when you were unable to find any smaller bills, not minding if he had to keep the change.

“No, don’t worry about it. My treat.” He shook his head, making no moves toward the cash held out in front of him.

“No, really take it,” you insisted, holding out the money, practically shoving it into his grip, but he only waved your hand away. “It’s the least I can do. You’re already helping me out for nothing in return.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve got money—maybe not as much as you, princess—but it’s enough to keep me going.” You hated that his nickname had such an immediate effect on you, causing the same blush to reappear on your face. You didn’t want to draw more of his attention to you while your face was on fire, so you quickly gave up, retracting your hand and putting the money back into your wallet with a deep sigh. Jungkook perked up with an idea suddenly, leaning his forearms onto the table as he spoke. “Actually, I do have a way you could pay me back.” You nodded, waiting for his request. “I have a paper due for English 101 on Monday, and that class isn’t my strong suit. You’re good at English, right? Could you help me out with that?”

“Sure, I can look over that and help you revise it if you need me to. Have you finished so I can go ahead and look over it now?” you asked, already waiting for him to bring out his computer and show you his finished product.

You watched his tongue roll on the inside of his cheek and met his eyes that only held a blank stare. “I haven’t started.”

“What?” you shrieked. “Jungkook! That paper is due in two days, and you have none of it done? Those aren’t easy to rush, you know.” You scolded him, and he fluttered his eyes shut, exhaling slowly, as if he had expected that exact reaction from you. He only shrugged as a response, making you even more frustrated with the boy. “Okay, well I guess we need to meet up tomorrow to get that done, but the cafe’s closed on Sundays, so maybe we should meet in the courtyard.” You looked to him for any sort of confirmation or objection, but he only continued to listen uninterestedly, eliciting an exasperated huff from you. “Sure, we’ll do that. A little fresh air could do us some good anyway. Meet me at six.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t put just a little bit of effort into your appearance today. Definitely not because you were meeting Jungkook, though. You just didn’t have to wake up as early as usual, so you just happened to feel like putting on makeup and planning a nicer outfit as opposed to a hoodie and leggings like you wear for almost every single class.

You texted Jungkook to meet you at the right-most bench in the courtyard at six, but it was now almost a quarter after and there was still no sign of him. You slowly grew more impatient as each minute passed by and it took a considerable amount of effort to keep yourself from sending him a second text asking him where he was. Finally, you saw him jogging towards you from the path adjacent to where you sat, making you breathe in relief and you were about to berate him, but you quickly stopped yourself after one look at his dishevelled state and his slight limp that wasn’t hard to miss. Your eyes trailed him up and down in concern as you quickly stood up to meet him. “What the hell happened to you?” you asked, hands twitching by your sides as you fought the urge to brush away the hair hanging down in his face.

He beat you to it, luckily, as he swept his hair back and shook his head, dismissing the matter. “It’s nothing. I was just in a hurry. Sorry I’m late.” He plopped down onto the bench and you followed just after, still keeping your eyes trained on him in worry. When you put your hand down, you felt it land on top of his own, so you quickly picked it back and and instinctually looked down to wear his hand propped up his upper body and you didn’t miss the blot of scarlet on his knuckles.

You didn’t hesitate in taking his hand into your own now, bringing it up to make sure your eyes were not deceiving you. “You’re bleeding!” you pointed out to him, looking at the red that painted each of his knuckles.

He hummed, taking a careless glance before quickly wiping it off on his jeans, leaving a stain that your eyes focused on in disbelief before directing your rounded eyes back up to his face. He squinted at your reaction, clearly not nearly as interested as you were. “What? I was in a rush, and I fell. That’s all,” he insisted, opening his laptop to move on and get started on his paper.

Your eyes zeroed in on the skin just below his eye that was beginning to take on a dark hue. “I’d believe you if your eye weren’t turning blue right now.” His hand came up to touch his eye without thinking and you could see that he barely winced before he shook his head and continued to open up a document on his computer. You continued to stare patiently, but he made no move to relieve your concerns. “Are you gonna tell me what happened or not?”

He scoffed, clicking his tongue with eyes still focused on the screen in front of him. “I already did. The black eye is because my face hit the ground.” He turned to you to still find you scrutinizing him, but he chose to ignore it and get straight into writing the essay. He began to read the prompt aloud until he stopped when he felt a large drop of water fall onto his cheek, and at just about the same moment, you felt the same on your thigh. You both looked up and saw the dark clouds that had drifted in from a distance. Suddenly, as if someone had flipped a switch to go right on cue, the sky opened up and rain came crashing down on the city with a crack of thunder to top it all off.

After only a few moments, you were already much too wet for your own liking, so you dragged Jungkook behind you to the nearest awning of a building to stand under. “Great,” you murmured, already shivering from the chill of your damp clothes. “Now what are we gonna do?”

Jungkook sighed and looked out at the droplets that poured down just a few inches in front of him while drying off the screen of his laptop with his shirt. “You know, it’s okay. I’ll figure something out. You don’t have to help.”

“No. I want to help. I need to after how much you’ve helped me,” you insisted. You tapped your chin in thought of a place to seek refuge from the rain, and the only place that came to mind was home. Home, however, was a risk since there was the chance that your mother would be home, but she usually worked even on Sundays, and you didn’t think there was any reason she wouldn’t be working today, so you decided that would be your best option. “We can go to my place to write this.”

You heard Jungkook mutter behind you, but you couldn’t make out what he said as you built up enough courage and went back out into the cold rain. You glanced behind you to see Jungkook hastily stuffing his laptop back into his bag and reluctantly following behind. Your teeth began to chatter and you crossed your arms over your chest to maintain some body heat. You heard Jungkook’s quiet voice, not quite able to understand what he had said, but he pulled you closer to him and had taken his leather jacket off, now holding it over both of your heads to keep the heavy flow of rain from beating down on you any longer. You blushed at the thoughtful act and your whole body began to feel warmer within moments.

Suddenly what you were sure would be a long, miserable walk went by much faster than you had expected, except for the fact that a jacket could only do so much and you were both still soaking wet and cold. You unlocked the front door and kicked off your soggy shoes, and Jungkook followed, and you told him to wait where he was on the doormat. You came back with a towel for each of you to dry off with. You wrapped the plush cloth around you tightly after squeezing out your dripping hair. To be honest, you hadn’t really thought this far ahead, so now you both stood in the doorway wondering what to do with your still very wet bodies that could easily damage the expensive furniture in your house.

You heard the front door just behind Jungkook begin to open and he quickly stepped out of the way before getting hit with it. Your heart dropped. It was your mother. She took in the scene with a bewildered appearance, eyes drifting from you, soaking wet with eyes like those of a deer caught in headlights to the equally damp boy with the leather jacket, forming black eye, and blood stain on his jeans.

“_____, who’s this?” she inquired with a strained smile, eyes flickering between the two of you. You had a feeling Jungkook could easily sense the tension because you saw him shift awkwardly between his feet.

“Mom, I didn’t think you’d be home. This is Jungkook. I’m helping him with English. We’re in the same class.”

“Oh, you go to college with _____? Where are you from Jungkook?” You could see from the look in her eye that she was testing him. She already knew, but she never thought that you would actually be dumb enough to bring someone like him into her house.

There was a moment of silence where you could tell he was thinking carefully about what to say, and you tried to step in and answer for him with something safe that you hoped your mother would accept and maybe even make her think her assumption was wrong—although that was entirely unlikely—but he spoke over you. “I don’t know if you’re familiar with my part of town. It’s west of the river.” You shrunk when you saw the forced smile slide off your mother’s features. You glanced to Jungkook. You never would have guessed from the calmness of his voice, but there was a certain challenging glint in his eyes.

“I see. I never thought I’d see the day when my daughter brought someone like you into my home.” She gave you a once over and you fluttered your eyes shut in shame that you knew you had no reason to feel and shouldn’t be feeling, but that look on your mother’s face never failed to make you feel guilty for absolutely anything.

Jungkook’s tongue poked into his cheek and he laughed dryly. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll keep my grubby hands to myself.” Your mother’s eyes widened at his rebellious response, and you quickly ushered him up the stairs to prevent any other confrontation that might have occurred had you not intervened.

Once you reached the top of the stairs and achieved peace for the present moment, you led Jungkook to your bedroom and quickly shut the door behind you, dragging your hands down your face in embarrassment and guilt and frustration and... you weren’t even sure what you were feeling at the moment. Jungkook still wore a scowl on his face when you peeked through your fingers,  and he spoke, “No offense, but your mom’s kind of a bitch.”

You groaned and kept your hands where they covered your face, too afraid to meet his intense gaze. “I know. I’m so sorry.” You finally let your hands fall to your sides, defeatedly. “I didn’t think she would be home, so I didn't think we would have this problem.”

You were at a loss for words, disappointed and embarrassed, until you finally let out in a small voice, “She’s not really like that, or at least she wasn’t always. She’s just hurt.” Jungkook didn’t even have to make a move before you elaborated, hopeful to give him some sort of explanation he would accept. “My father was killed by a gang member from the other side of town, and she just hasn’t been the same since.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said equally as quietly as his eyes shifted to the ground. You saw his jaw clench and realized you were probably making him uncomfortable, so you dropped yourself onto your plush bed and patted the space beside you to beckon him to follow.

“Let’s get started on this paper, then,” you began jovially, although it was obvious to the both of you that the change of mood was at least partially forced.

Jungkook took slow steps to join you where you sat and released a quick sigh. “We’re not all like that.” Jungkook’s fingers were intertwined with each other while his elbows rested on his knees and his head was facing you, yet his eyes did not meet your own.

A soft, guilty smile grew on your lips. “It’s okay. I know.” You chewed on your bottom lip, lost in thought after your failure to divert from the subject. You were determined this time, however, as you motioned for him to bring out his laptop, asking, “Alright. What’s your topic?”

He laid his computer on his lap and handed you a paperback novel. “It’s a character analysis on a character of choice from this book.” You observed the illustrated cover and read the title. Luckily, you had read the novel before, so you could better help Jungkook write the essay. “I don’t know which character to write about though.”

You hummed in thought and flipped through the pages, briefly looking for names to jog your memory. “Well, the main character is the obvious choice, so if you want to impress your professor, that’s not the way to go. Were there any particular characters that interested you?”

Jungkook stared for a moment, but only shook his head in response, saying, “No. I didn’t even like the book.”

You frowned to yourself for a moment, remembering how much you had enjoyed reading the same book. You thought of the most memorable character and suggested to him, “What about Maxine? She was a major character and her story can be interpreted in several different ways, especially with how her relationship with Vernon developed.”

Jungkook scowled shaking his head. “She was the worst character. She couldn’t even take care of her own kid, let alone someone else’s. That’s why the whole plot seemed pointless to me.”

“Well, she was an addict, but throughout the story you could see her battling with her addiction for the sake of her son and everyone else who cared about her. She wasn’t able to succeed in keeping her son in the end, but her good characteristics shine through and that’s what you can write your paper about.”

“She was a shitty character and she didn’t care about her son, but if you want to insist I write the paper on her, then you can just write it for me.” Jungkook dropped the computer on the mattress in the space between you and pushed himself up off the bed, turning his back to you.

Your brows creased in concern as you stood up just a few steps behind him. You tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, wait, I didn’t mean to upset you. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. You’re just being annoying.”

He pushed your hand off of his shoulder and turned around to look at you, face still hardened. Your expression imitated his own, and you questioned impatiently, “Do you want me to help you or not?” Jungkook’s nostrils flared before his tensed arms folded over his chest dropped to his sides and he went back to his seat at the bed. You only observed him for a moment before you gave in and joined him once again, handing his laptop back to him and deciding to ignore the matter for now.

After a few hours of focusing solely on the paper, you both had finished and the final result was definitely worthy of a good grade. The majority of the time had passed in silence, with you leading most of the conversation and helping him with writing rules and him adding his own ideas to the paper silently. His quietness did not go unnoticed by you, though.

Jungkook was adding the finishing touches, and finally he closed his computer to pack it away. Meanwhile, you were debating bringing up the issue that had been weighing on you throughout the writing process of his essay. “Jungkook,” you began nervously, “I don’t know exactly what it was that made you so upset, but I’m sorry.” You glanced up to Jungkook, and you were sure you saw his hardened gaze become neutral as he noticed your eyes on him. “You can talk to me about whatever it is that’s bothering you, though. Just so you know.” One end of your mouth quirked up in an attempt to be comforting without overstepping your boundaries.

Jungkook rolled his head from one shoulder to the other, propping himself up on his hands. His eyes stayed on the corner of the ceiling as he explained. “I guess I just see a lot of resemblance between my own mother and Maxine.” Jungkook shuffled his feet on the ground before continuing, “I guess now that you explain it though, Maxine was actually better than her when it comes down to it.”

You watched silently as his brows pulled together in concentration on the floor below him. You could tell he had been hurt, though you weren’t exactly sure how, but you didn’t expect him to elaborate any further. You sighed in thought and melted further into your bed. “Don’t go feeling sorry for me, now. It never actually mattered to me.” You almost pointed out the mirthless smile that spread across his lips, but kept your mouth shut tightly in a moment of hesitation. It wasn’t difficult to see that he was suppressing his emotions, and you knew he would eventually pay for having done that for probably a majority of his life, but you were afraid to push your thoughts onto him seeing how he had a habit of shutting down whenever he had to express something real.

Jungkook cleared his throat, suddenly ushering you out of your thoughts and you hadn’t even realized that you had been staring the whole time. Your eyes darted away, but you didn’t miss the silent chuckle that came forth from Jungkook’s lips. With your face burning red, you diverted your attention to the time on your phone screen, gasping, “I didn’t even realize it had gotten so late.” You stood up, pulling back your curtains and peeking outside to see the sun had already set. “You shouldn’t walk home at this time of night. Do you want me to get you an Uber?” you worried, already pulling up the app on your phone.

He placed his hand on the rim of your phone, pulling it down to get your attention, chuckling, “I’m fine. I can handle myself.”

You pressed your lips together, concerned, still hesitating to let him go when you could help. He already picked up his bag and threw it over his shoulder, however, so you were forced to digress as he began to walk away. You followed him down the stairs toward the front door, requesting, “Fine, but text me when you get home safely.”

Jungkook couldn’t hold back his laughter, throwing a look over his shoulder at you. “Don’t smother me.”

“I’m not!” you countered with a grin. You crossed your arms over your chest at the breeze let in as Jungkook turned to face you one last time on the front porch.

Jungkook looked over your shoulder and the fraction of a smile that had been present on his lips faded away. “I’ll see you later, _____.”

You bid him farewell in return and in the next moment he was descending the front steps and on his way home. You closed the door and you were once again surrounded by the warmth of the inside, but your goosebumps did not go away when you saw your mother who had been standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching as he left. The both of you made eye contact for a few moments before she wordlessly turned and walked back into the kitchen, and you did the same, slinking back into your room as if you hadn’t seen her.

You laid on your bed, finishing up studying for class the next day, when your eyes shifted down to the numbers displayed in the bottom right corner of the screen. It was almost midnight. Jungkook should have gotten home by now, but the multiple times you had checked, even in the moment, you still received no message. You took it upon yourself to make sure he made it back alright.

‘Did you get home safely?’ You sighed throwing your phone down next to you, not expecting him to respond anytime soon since he was always very flaky with texting.

Your screen lit up within a few minutes however with a new message from Jungkook. You quickly slid your thumb across the screen and unlocked your phone to read his reply. ‘yes.’ It was short and simple, like his messages always were. He was a man of few words on all levels. However, for some reason, you couldn’t help the giddy feeling you got, your lip caught between your smiling teeth at the thought that—though highly unlikely—his quick reply meant that he had been waiting for you to say something first. You felt silly, like you were a freshman in high school all over again, but the feeling was nonetheless welcomed.

Your fingers speedily typed back, ‘Good. You had me worried for a second there.’ You patiently watched the screen for a while until the read receipt popped up under your message. However, there was no indication of a reply coming your way, and you rolled your eyes at the far too familiar scenario. You lifted your head up for a moment, letting your eyes scan around your room for no particular reason until they landed on a black bag in the corner of your room. It resurfaced a thought that had been lingering in the back of your mind for a while now, and you decided now was as good a time as any to confront it. Typing once more on your phone, you sent one more message to Jungkook. ‘Can we meet at the cafe tomorrow? There’s something I want to give to you.’

Suspecting Jungkook’s record-time reply was a one-time-only kind of thing, you placed your phone on your nightstand and closed your computer up, laying back in your bed to finally get some sleep for class the next day.

You sat at your usual table in the far corner of the cafe, waiting with both of your drinks already ordered and paid for in return for last time. Luckily, today, you weren’t kept waiting for long as Jungkook came walking in relatively on time with a black baseball cap pulled down tightly. As soon as he sat, you ducked your head and discovered the reason for his not-so-subtle accessorization. His eye had become darker than it was the day before. You clicked your tongue reaching over and lifting the cap to get a better look at it, fighting against Jungkook’s grip to hold it in place.

“Must have been quite a fall, huh?” you observed with an incredulous glare. Jungkook only silently nodded. You both knew that you knew he was lying, but no one said a word. After a moment of thought, you inhaled sharply and bent down to where the black bag sat next to you, pulling out the object of interest. “Right. I have something for you.”

Jungkook observed with a raised brow and watched as you pulled out your camera that he had seen countless times before. You placed it on the table and grinned, waiting for any sort of response, but Jungkook’s eyes only flickered between you and the camera cluelessly. “What?” he finally gave in and questioned.

You rolled your eyes dramatically and pushed the camera across the little table closer to him. “I’m giving you the camera!”

Jungkook’s eyes were suddenly huge and his mouth hung open for a mere second in disbelief. “You can’t be serious. This camera costs a lot of money. Why would you just give it to me?”

Your eyes trailed down and you shrugged slightly. “I don’t know, you just got so excited when you saw it the first time that I’ve been thinking about how much more you deserved it since then. After this semester ends, I won’t even want to touch a camera again, but you love photography, so it’s much better in your hands.”

“Why don’t you just keep it until the end of the semester, then? There’s only a few more weeks.” His eyes were glued to the object in front of him like a child looks at a candy bar.

“I’ll get a different camera, a cheaper one, and that way you can use that one for the final project.” Jungkook still looked hesitant, looking to you one final time for some sort of approval. Your laugh bubbled up inside of you. “It’s yours! Take it.” His hands took hold of the camera in no time, a beaming smile on his face, as he began snapping pictures of anything and everything in sight. He took one of the tree just outside the window, then a picture of the two coffee mugs placed beside each other on the table, stopping to take a look at the results for just a moment before diving right back into it.

You weren’t even sure what made you want to give him the camera all of a sudden, but as you watched him, you realized it was probably because of that childlike smile on his face. Every once in a while, he was unable to uphold his strong exterior and instead he just let it down and showed a completely different side of himself, one that very few were ever lucky enough to see. It made you happy that you were one of the few.

Suddenly, you noticed that the camera lens had been pointed directly at you. You tried to bring your hands up to hide your face, but Jungkook was already looking at the result, signalling you had been too late. “Delete that!” you whined as Jungkook laughed obnoxiously, jerking the camera away from you as you tried to take it away from him. When he looked at the picture, his laughing grin turned into a softer smile. “Jungkook, please get rid of that. I probably looked so—”

“You look…” he cut you off, stopping mid sentence in thought. He looked up to you for a mere moment and then back down to the picture. “...beautiful.” At that moment you were completely floored, unable to say anything else. In the dead silence between the two of you, it was as if Jungkook had just registered what he said, and he quickly set down the camera, looking out the window because he had no idea where else to look.

You bit down on your lip to hold back the smile that wanted so desperately to spread across your face, pushing a few stray strands of hair back behind your ear. “Thank you,” you mumbled. Jungkook still looked out the window, but you heard a laugh get caught in his throat, which escalated to both of you giggling and blushing like idiots. Anyone walking by would look at the both of you and think you’re just a pair of awkward teenagers falling in love. Maybe that’s exactly what you were.

Your mother would kill you if she knew what you were doing right now. Jungkook wanted to kick off summer vacation with something new. You were hesitant at first, but Jungkook was able to coerce you into it, so now you found yourself in Jungkook’s side of the city, a place you had never ventured to before. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little scared, especially because of the way your mother described it, whether it was completely true or not, but it definitely didn’t help when Jungkook told you to stay close to him, which made your heart beat faster for two completely different reasons.

After passing through a dark alley that gave you goosebumps, Jungkook led you to a beaten up little building. You read the glowing sign at the top dubbing the building Roy’s Diner. “You brought me all the way here to eat?” you asked Jungkook doubtfully.

“Trust me. It’s worth it. The food here is amazing.” Jungkook walked a few steps ahead of you and looked back to see you examining the restaurant. You weren’t one to judge a book by its cover, but you weren’t even sure how this place was passing any kind of building inspections. “Come on, it’s one of my favorite places. It was in real bad shape a few years ago and on the brink of closing down.”

“Well, if you love this place so much, you should work to fix it up and save it. I’d be willing to help, too, if you want,” you offered.

Jungkook looked at you like you were crazy. “Save it? What are you talking about? It’s already been fixed up. The place is thriving now!” He gestured grandly to the building, causing you to give it a doubtful second examination. You weren’t exactly sure what his definition of ‘thriving’ was, but it must be vastly different from yours judging by the flickering neon sign and the walls that desperately needed painting and, quite frankly, looked like they could very well cave in on themselves soon. You gave him a tight smile, but he only rolled his eyes. “Look, it may not look like all those fancy restaurants you’re used to, but I promise, I’m about to introduce you to the best fries and milkshake you have ever tasted in your life. Nothing beats Roy’s cooking.”

After Jungkook had grabbed your hand and practically dragged you inside, you were met with a much different atmosphere than what you were expecting. It was unexpectedly warm and cozy inside, and the loud chatter and laughter coming from all around almost made it feel like you were at a rowdy Thanksgiving dinner. Suddenly almost everyone that had been engrossed in a conversation turned towards the door to see the two of you had arrived. There was a deafening chorus of greetings to Jungkook, mostly from the older folks at the bar and surrounding tables whom Jungkook dragged you over to. Only after Jungkook gave almost each and every one of them a hug, which was much to your surprise, did some of the older women notice you were there. “Oh, Jungkook! You finally got yourself a girl and brought her here to meet us!” one of the women practically shouted as another tried to pinch Jungkook’s cheek while he quickly tried to maneuver away.

Jungkook rubbed at the back of his neck, finally realizing he still held your hand in his own and quickly released his grip, much to your disappointment. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s a friend from college, and I brought her here so she could try Roy’s famous food for the first time and change her life forever.”

Several of them chimed in, greeting you after you introduced yourself shyly. Jungkook went to grab a menu for you, and the ladies took it as an opportunity to chat some more with you. “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“No, I’m not actually.” You could barely even hear their responses since they all talked over each other, and although you had expected at least some of them to draw conclusions and figure out you were from the other side of town and treat you differently, they all still gave you friendly smiles.

Jungkook came back just in time to save you from more of their questions, thankfully, and brought you up to the counter to order food from the restaurant owner he introduced you to, Roy. You ended up getting a burger with the infamous fries and milkshake Jungkook kept going on about. Over dinner, much of the topic of conversation stayed on you and mostly Jungkook since, as many of his friends implied, he hadn’t visited recently. You ended up loving the atmosphere and how close everyone seemed to be. Even Roy would talk with everyone in between orders, and though you had never met anyone before, everyone was welcoming and open to talk with you. In fact, they were eager to see you and to see that Jungkook “has some friends his own age” as they teased.

You were finally finishing up your milkshake as the sky was just becoming dark, and the restaurant, while still buzzing, had quieted down considerably enough to have a conversation at normal volume. Jungkook had left you sitting at the counter alone while he went to the bathroom, and you couldn’t hold back the smile to yourself thinking about the way he interacted with all these people he seemed to be so close to. You looked up as Roy stood on the other side of the counter from you, cleaning a glass with a towel. “You seem like a great girl. I’m glad Jungkook met someone like you.”

You blushed, expecting him to only make some simple small talk while Jungkook wasn’t around. “Oh… I wouldn’t say it like that.” You laughed nervously, pushing stray hair back out of your face. “We’re only friends. We just talk sometimes.” ‘Sometimes’ was a bit of an understatement you realized, but it seemed most of the people got the impression that you were Jungkook’s girlfriend, which unfortunately wasn’t the case.

“Let me let you in on a little secret. Don’t tell Jungkook I told you this, but he doesn’t bring just anyone here. These people are like his second family, and if he thinks you’re good enough to meet them, then you’re pretty darn special.”

You couldn’t help the butterflies from fluttering in your stomach at the thought. A sudden thought came to you and you bit your lip, wondering if it would be appropriate to ask. You decided it probably wouldn’t hurt, grabbing Roy’s attention once again. “Sorry, you said this is like his second family?” He nodded easily. “Well, if you don’t mind me asking, who’s the first?” You questioned carefully, hoping it wasn’t too forward or prying of you to wonder about such things. You knew that Jungkook’s parents were out of the picture, so you tried to imagine who else he would be close with besides the people in this room.

Roy stayed silent for only a moment before both of you saw in the corner the door to the restrooms swing open and Jungkook wiping his hands dampened from the sink on his shirt. As Jungkook made his way back to take the seat next to you, Roy gave a tight smile and a quick nod to hastily end the conversation. Your forehead creased in confusion, wondering why there had so suddenly been something secretive come up. You smiled as Jungkook came and took his seat next to you again, but you couldn’t quite wipe the puzzlement off your face. “What’s wrong?” Jungkook suddenly asked, throwing his arm over your shoulder, which you were sure was only a product of him being just a little bit tipsy.

“Nothing.” You shook your head.

After Jungkook had walked you home that night, you were met with a very displeased mother. You did stay out a little late, you admit, but you should have that freedom. You’re a fully functioning adult, yet here you are, getting lectured by your mother. Though it wasn’t all bad, especially since you weren’t paying an ounce of attention. Instead you were thinking about Jungkook walking you home just minutes before. He had a few drinks at the diner, so he was a bit more carefree than he was on a usual basis, so the entire way home, you had the pleasure of feeling the warmth of his hand wrapped around yours and for a moment everything felt so real.

And that’s when you realized there was no turning back. Your hand felt empty now that his wasn’t there anymore and there were too many lingering butterflies to be ignored. Again, maybe this is the result of the tiniest bit of alcohol that you’re hoping desperately your mother doesn’t smell on you right now since you were still technically underage.

The thought of your mother ruined it all though. The warm fuzzy feeling became cold as you remember that as long as she had a say, being with Jungkook was out of the question. You could take one look at him and easily see he was the epitome of a boy your mother would never approve of, with his all black clothes and leather jackets, his pierced ears, his dark yet endearing—at least in your eyes—humor. Your mother would keel over if you ever revealed you had feelings for him.

And this was assuming that Jungkook even felt the same way about you. But there had to be something there, right? You felt like with how you easy it was to talk to each other, and how much Jungkook has opened up to you, not to mention those few tender moments that you two never spoke about, it seemed pretty obvious there was something between the two of you. It couldn’t all just be in your head. Though you were still terrified, you came to the conclusion that you would let Jungkook know exactly what you were thinking and see what happens from there.

Making a decision that you would confess to Jungkook did not make it any easier to actually do it. You had never been the one to make the first move in the past, and Jungkook being the person of interest made it even scarier. Jungkook was coming over to your house so you could help him study for English, and your heart was beating erratically while waiting for the doorbell to ring. You couldn’t sit still and eventually began pacing in the living room, and you weren’t even sure if you were going to tell him today. However, today would be a good day, since your mom isn’t home and home is the best place to do it. If he turns you down, there won’t be any public embarrassment. So basically today is the perfect day to do it. So basically you have to do it. You began to pull at your hair in distress when finally the doorbell rang, and you probably answered it way too fast. As Jungkook greeted you, he smirked as he looked at the top of your head, smoothing down the hair that you must have messed up in your panic, and unfortunately you very obviously flinched away from his hand, playing it off with a nervous chuckle.

You silently led him up to your room, and he could most definitely tell that something was going on, but he didn’t say anything to acknowledge it, much to your relief. You let him into your room and closed the door behind you, taking in a deep breath. Luckily, as soon as you start to talk with each other like any other day, you begin to feel comfortable again and you finally feel relaxed.

After about an hour of studying, you take a break and you begin to wonder if this would be the time to say something. You began to go over the small speech you had rehearsed all morning, but before you could get anything out, you watch as Jungkook pulls off his hoodie, and as he does so, the short sleeve of his shirt on his right arm comes up, revealing a black image displayed on his skin which immediately piques your interest. “Wait, what was that?” you asked, tentatively pushing his sleeve up his shoulder to examine the image you had spotted hidden beneath it.

“Nothing,” he replied uninterestedly, brushing your hand away.

You locked gazes with him, wide eyes on display in an attempt to make him cave in.  “Well, it’s obviously a tattoo,” you reasoned aloud. “Any special reason?” Had you not had the suspicion that came into your mind, you would have let it be.

He quickly shook his head, breaking away from your curious eyes. “It’s just a tattoo. Nothing special about it.”

Your voice was soft now, and your eyes dropped to examine the lines in the wooden floors of your bedroom. “It’s a gang tattoo, isn’t it?” He only stared back, still with no intention of giving any answers. You figured that would be the reason why he was so apprehensive. Had it been any other tattoo, he probably wouldn’t have had any problem. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

He briefly exhaled through his nose, and his eyes fluttered shut before he gave a hasty nod. “I’ve told you before. I got mixed up with some bad people when I was younger, but don’t worry, it’s all in the past now.” You were glad he had gotten past it and hoped he was safe and out of that business now as he said he was.

Your gazes were locked on each other’s for far too long and you suddenly remembered what your original goal was, and you now realized you ruined the mood for that to happen. “I’m sorry,” you shook your head. “I shouldn’t have pried.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jungkook reassured softly. “I would have told you before, but I just didn’t want to scare you off.”

Your mouth curved into a small smile, arms hugging your torso. “You couldn’t scare me away. Don’t you know you’re stuck with me?” you joked. You suddenly realized now was the time. You had everything you wanted to say planned out, but now that it came down to it, you panicked and forgot all of it, so you had to say exactly what was on your mind. “Jungkook, you know you mean a lot to me, right? When I say that, I don’t mean as a friend either. I mean it as more than that, I guess.” You stuttered and slipped over your words and began to trail off in your last statement in nervousness, which became full panic as you observed the smile slip from his face.

“_____...” That was all he said before an agonizing amount of silence and out of all the scenarios you had thought up, this was probably the worst of them all. “You don’t mean that.”

“What? Of course I do,” you insisted, reaching out to him, but he only coiled back out of your reach. “Jungkook…”

“No. I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” He tried to walk away from you, but you grabbed onto his arm. You’d accept it and let him go if he had just rejected you, but you could tell something was wrong.

He shook your grip off and picked up his books and stuffed them into his bag in a hurry. “What is wrong with you?” you questioned desperately at his sudden shutdown. Then it all made sense. “That’s it. You’re shutting down again. You can’t stand it when you have to deal with any sort of real emotion.”

He scoffed, “Don’t try reasoning me out of this. I don’t want anyone to depend on me like that, not even you.”

“So, that’s it? You’re just never going to feel anything?” He stopped and looked up to you from his bag, locking eyes, and you hated how they had suddenly become cold and unfamiliar.

“No, _____, I’m not, and that’s why you should just give up on me. I can’t give you what you want. Go find someone else that’s not gonna hurt you.” You didn’t want to watch him walk away. You had no way of knowing what his true feelings were, but you knew that this wasn’t what he needed. He said he didn’t want anyone to depend on him, but in reality, he was afraid to depend on someone else. He didn’t want to put himself in a position to get left behind again, scarred by memories of his mother who had abandoned him.

All you could do was let him figure things out on his own. If he really did love you, then he would find his way back. All you can hope is that you didn’t just lose one of the best things that had ever happened to you. “Okay, if this is how it is, then I’ll let you go. I can’t keep doing this, Jungkook.”

He was already taking large strides out the door to get away as fast as his feet would carry him. “I know,” was all he said. Then he was gone.

It had been a week since Jungkook walked out on you, and you were beginning to lose hope of seeing him again. You would usually give it a bit more time before you began feeling doubtful, but you hadn’t seen nor heard any sign of him.

You laid pathetically alone on your bed on a Saturday night that you should have used to spend time with friends, but you ended up turning down any plans that were offered. You opened your phone and looked through old messages between you and Jungkook, and you began to type a message to ask him how he was doing, but just before you hit send, you ended up erasing it all and throwing your phone back down. As much of a bummer as it was, you decided to take tonight to go to bed and get some extra sleep.

You had already shut off all your lights and tucked yourself into your warm bed when a sudden, echoing knock came from your window, almost scaring you out of your wits. You quickly stumbled out of bed and turned on the lamp that sat on your nightstand, opening the curtains without hesitation because you already knew exactly who would be waiting behind them.

There you saw Jungkook hugging his jacket closer around him in the chilling night winds. This wasn’t the first time he had come to you through your bedroom window. He had done it several times before when he came over and saw your mother’s car parked in the driveway to avoid having to get through her to see you. You unhooked the latch, hurrying him in as he struggled to climb over the window sill. “_____,” he breathed out through chattering teeth. “I’m so sorry.” He pulled you into a crushing hug, burying his face into the hair on top of your head. “I always fuck things up just when they’re starting to go right.”

“It’s okay, Jungkook,” you spoke gently, rubbing his back up and down as he stood still and inhaled your scent for a few moments.

He chuckled breathily. “How can you always forgive me even when I’m such an ass?”

“Because I love you.”

You had pulled away enough so that you could look him in the eyes when you spoke, hopeful that this time it would go right. Jungkook pulled you back to him, mostly so that he could hide his face when he told you, “I love you, too.”

Your mother had dragged you out of the house way too early for a Saturday morning to go shopping with her at all of her favorite designer-brand stores, which was already a shock to you since she hadn’t found time to spend with you in almost four years since she was always so busy with work. Now, out of nowhere, she was having you try on at least a dozen gowns at each stop.

“Okay, mom,” you sighed walking out of the dressing room wearing the last of several dresses she had picked out. “This is the last one.”

She smiled, motioning for you to turn around. “That one looks beautiful, too! Which one did you like the best?”

You turned around, scrutinizing the way the material draped over you in the mirror. “I don’t know. They all look nice.” You turned back to her, finally deciding to question the motive behind her sudden eagerness, hoping it wouldn’t ruin her rarely bright mood. “Why exactly am I looking for a dress?”

She folded her hands in her lap, crossing her legs over each other, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “I wasn’t planning on telling you yet, but I’ll be hosting a gala, and I want you to come.” She looked for some kind of reaction from you, but you only continued to listen, smoothing the skirt of the dress you wore. She cleared her throat. “There will be a lot of young men there, soon to be owners of their parents’ companies. You should try to meet some of them.”

You finally looked back to her reflection in the mirror. “I’ve already met plenty of them,” you pointed out, brows creased in thought. “Is this your way of saying you want me to make connections?” you accused, stressing the word “connections” to imply it may have a different meaning. You heard rumors that big business owners would sometimes send their kids to high class social events hopefully form a relationship with another heir to merge the businesses and increase profit, but you didn’t think it was actually something that happened.

“I’m not saying I want you to do it, but you should be open minded to some of the boys you meet there.” She smiled to try to convince you, standing to speak with you at eye level.

“So, what, you want me to charm them with a pretty dress?” you asked. You scrunched your nose, looking down at the dress that you had once thought was pretty, but after staring for too long, you began to hate it.

“And your wonderful personality,” she joked with a playful pat on your cheek, but you couldn’t find it in you to laugh.

You’d met all these heirs to wealthy businesses before, and you knew that they weren’t interested in your personality. They weren’t looking for any sort of relationship, they were either looking for connections or a good time, and when it came to the unfortunate girls at these parties, they were usually stuck with the latter. And as spoiled rich kids, they didn’t like to be told no, which made you even more nervous than you already were.

You walked back into the dressing room, peeling off the itchy material of the dress you had to wear for far too long due to the unexpected news that had been broken to you. When you put back on the t-shirt dress and sneakers you had originally been wearing, you stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You began to think you liked yourself much better this way. You knew Jungkook liked you better this way. You bit back a smile at the thought of him, and it finally occurred to you that your mother didn’t even know that you and Jungkook were officially… whatever you were. You hadn’t really addressed it yet since that night. You did know, however, that you loved each other, but your mother wanted to send you into a room full of men you probably couldn’t trust. You began to wonder about what would happen if you brought Jungkook to the gala with you. Your mother would be furious, but you would feel so much safer. Though, you didn’t even know if Jungkook had any interest in going.

You heard a knock on the door, zoning you back into reality and making you realize you had been staring into the mirror in thought. “Are you ready?” you heard your mother’s voice calling from the other side.

“Coming,” you answered.

Jungkook had come over in the afternoon for what was supposed to be getting help from you for English, but when he actually arrived and you told him to get his books out, he didn’t even have his bookbag with them, so he claimed he “forgot” it. You knew he was lying, though. Jungkook had trouble with being direct. He always had to have some sort of excuse to see you rather than just wanting to spend time with you. You knew he actually cared behind all of this, though, but for now you would just have to learn how to interpret his roundabout methods.

Since he coincidentally didn’t bring his materials to study, he ended up laying down next to you in your place in bed, opting for just talking for a while. Jungkook had been looking around your room that he had practically memorized by now since he’d seen it so often, making it easy to spot any little change. He saw an extra framed picture on your nightstand of you and who he was positive was your father. He pointed it out, “That’s new.”

You looked over your shoulder to follow his line of sight and your eyes landed on the object of interest. “Yeah. I found that in a box a few days ago and decided to frame it and put it up.” You smiled at him, but it didn’t hold up for long as you engrossed yourself in thought.

“What?” Jungkook asked, looking down at you as a frown deepened on your face.

You shook your head. “Nothing.” You looked back at it one last time before turning back to him and grabbing his hand to fiddle with his fingers while admitting slowly, “I can’t even remember what his voice sounds like.”

“Don’t you have any videos where you can hear his voice?”

You nodded faintly. “I’m sure we have some somewhere, but I’d have to go looking for them myself. I don’t wanna bring my mom into it. She gets really upset when he’s brought up.”

“If it means getting to hear his voice, then you should just ask her. She can’t keep it from you, and you can’t let her pretend it never happened.” He was obviously letting his bias towards you affect his solution, but you remember clearly what happens to your mother whenever she hears about him, and although you two didn’t always get along, you would never purposefully do that to her.

Also, to be honest, you were shocked that Jungkook had even said what he had. You barely laughed, lacking humor, “Should I even take that advice from you?”

Jungkook’s lips turned down and his forehead creased. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You had a feeling this was leading into an argument you really weren’t looking to have, especially judging by his already irritable tone of voice. “I mean that you’re a prime example of ignoring the past,” you said as you tried to keep your voice even to remain peaceful without making him upset.

Jungkook sat up in the bed and you sighed, immediately regretting even bringing this up. “How have I ever done that? I fully acknowledge everything that’s happened to me.”

“It’s not that you choose to ignore the past itself, Jungkook, but you ignore the…” you paused to look for the right words as he waited impatiently, “the emotions you should be feeling from it.”

He scoffed, pushing himself off the bed, and he unintentionally rose his voice. “Who are you to tell me how I’m supposed to feel?”

“I’m not saying anything like that, Jungkook!” You began to shout as well, but you stopped yourself to control the volume of your voice, finishing calmly, “I’m just saying it’s okay to be sad.”

Jungkook held your gaze for a moment before shaking his head violently and dropping his eyes to the floor. “I’m not sad,” he spat.

You watched as he evened his breathing, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides. “Alright,” you gave in. “If you say you aren’t sad, then I’ll believe you.” You knew he was lying not only to you, but to himself, but you let it go, not wanting to argue with him anymore. You stood up, brushing his bangs away that hung down in his eyes, pulling him to sit back down next to you on the edge of the bed. You brought a hand to his cheek to lift his face to meet your eyes. “I want to ask you something, and I know it may be asking a lot from you, so feel free to turn me down.”

He waited patiently for what you had to say, and you thought for one moment, still nervous at the prospect of him actually agreeing. “My mom is hosting this gala,” you explained, “and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

He squinted his eyes at you, finding it hard to believe you would even ask him about something like that. “You want me to go to a gala with you? That your mom is hosting?” You nod silently in return, though you can easily see where he’s coming from. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“I know it’s not exactly your scene, but, if I’m honest, I’m a little worried about it. My mom wants me to make connections with some of the young heirs there. They’re not the most trustworthy people, though. I just think I would feel a lot better if you were there.” You looked up to him nervously in hopes that he would understand what you were trying to say. With the way his jaw tightened, you were certain he had gotten the point.

He swallowed, placing a comforting hand on your thigh and agreeing softly, “Okay. I’ll be there for you.”

Later that night, you both decided you would go out to eat at Roy’s again because Jungkook was right, that was the best fries and milkshake you had ever tasted. It still made you nervous to go into the more dangerous side of the city, but nothing happened last time, and with Jungkook there, you had nothing to worry about. However, your fears suddenly returned to you when you heard someone from behind you shout, “Jeon!”

Jungkook quickly grabbed onto your hand as you both turned around. They didn’t look threatening when you turned around. In fact, they were around your age and you began to think they may have been friends of Jungkook. The same one who had called out to him spoke again, “Your dad called an emergency meeting. Another gang’s been looking to take some of our territory.”

You froze. You must not have heard that right. You felt Jungkook stiffen beside you, too. “What did he just say?” you mumbled.

Jungkook stared ahead wordlessly, his lips pressed into a thin line. That’s when you knew you heard exactly what you thought you did. Your lip curled up in anger and you shouted, “You lied to me! You’re in a gang!” Your eyes filled to the brim with tears, but you tried not to let them fall. You repeated, “You lied to me, didn’t you?”

Jungkook swallowed, knowing there was no way he could get himself out of this. He let the silence boil in an angry pot for a long while before he found his voice again. “Yeah, I did,” he breathed, nodding slowly.

You turned your face away from him, hesitant to ask what was on the tip of the tongue because you were terrified of what his answer may be. “What’s the name?” you barely choked out, but when he only stuttered as an answer, you screamed at him, “Was it your gang that killed my dad?”

“We’re not like that, _____. He was kicked out as soon as we found out.”

He confirmed exactly what you were afraid of. You knew the emblem you had seen on his shoulder seemed familiar for a reason. You felt sick. You felt betrayed. The tears you had been holding back were now free falling down your face. “You knew? You knew the whole time and you didn’t tell me?” You roughly pushed at his chest, but he barely moved an inch.

He reached out for you before retracting his hand right away. “I didn’t want this to happen.” You didn’t want to hear his excuses. You didn’t even want to see his face right now. You just needed to get away. When you turned on your heel, he called out your name, but you didn’t listen. When he tried to go after you, the men who came to get him held him back and hurried him away. He tried to fight to push past them, but he knew that if he chased after you, you would only hate him even more.

By the time you arrived home, you could barely even stand. You hadn’t even realized how much you were shaking, how violently your sobs had been wracking through you. When you reached the safety of solitude within your bedroom, you leaned on the post of your bed and sunk to the floor, burying your head in your hands. You weren’t sure how long you had stayed like that.

You heard a soft tap at your window and, knowing exactly who it came from, you pretended as if you didn’t hear it. Then Jungkook’s voice came quietly through the closed window, “Please let me in, _____.”

“Go away!” you shouted, not even moving to see his face. He didn’t leave though. Instead he kept tapping, which became impatient knocking, becoming louder and louder. You stood up and walked to the window and the sound finally ceased as he let out a sigh, but instead of unlocking the window like he had expected, you pulled the curtains closed and walked back to sit on your bed, staring emptily at the wall.

You could hear him growl in frustration. “Don’t make me break this goddamn window, _____!” you heard him scream from the other side of the curtains. You only shook your head and tried to ignore him until he left, but you jumped when you heard the crescendo of pounding on the glass, becoming more forceful by the second.

You hurriedly rushed to your feet again to open the curtains, only to be met with Jungkook repeatedly driving his fist into the glass. “You’re insane!” you cried out. You quickly unhooked the latch that kept him locked outside in fear that he would really form a crack in the glass. He immediately pushed through and took your face into his hands, pulling you close. “Get away from me!” You frantically fought, pulling his hands away from you and trying to put distance between you.

He placed his forehead against yours, whispering, “_____, please listen to me. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” You suddenly ran out of energy to continue fighting him, but you still kept a grip on his wrists as his hands still rested on each side of your face. Your sobs didn’t cease, however, and he slowly slid his hands down to wrap around your waist and bring you into his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head as you reluctantly melted into him in exhaustion. “Please forgive me.”

“Jungkook,” you breathed weakly.

He stopped you quickly, reminding you of a conversation the two of you had in the past. “You’ve said it yourself before. You know that I’m nothing like that man.”

“Of course I know that.” You shook your head before you pulled away from him, but he wouldn’t let you go far enough to where he had to let you go. “I’m angry because you kept this from me. You knew it was something I needed to know, but you kept it to yourself anyway.”

He sighed and he was about to plead for you to forgive him once more, but the vibration of his phone is his pocket brought his words to a halt. You saw that he immediately became worried when he read the caller ID and answered the call without hesitation. You couldn’t make out the words on the other end, but the way his face contorted in worry let you know that it was bad news. He ended the call with a quick affirmative and when he hung up, he looked frantic. “Shit,” he hissed. “There’s an emergency back at home. I’ll come back later tonight, though. We aren’t finished here,” he promised, already making his way back outside.

You woke up the next morning surprised that you had ever been able to fall asleep. You hadn’t even bothered trying to fall asleep the night before since you knew that if Jungkook said he was coming back, then he was coming back. But he never did return, which worried you. You didn’t want to care, but no matter how hard you tried to hate him, the fact that he never actually came back made you think something bad happened, and that scared you. You tried texting him early in the morning, several hours after he had left, but now even after you had slept and woke up again, you still received no response, which was extreme even for him.

Knowing all that you knew about him now, you could only assume the worst, especially since you had heard about the apparent emergency that he had gone to take care of. You rushed to get yourself ready to go out and look for him only to be stopped when you realized you had no idea where you should be looking. Of course your first instinct was his home, but you didn’t actually know where that was. You found it hard to believe you hadn’t realized until now how much you still didn’t know about Jungkook. So, you went to the only place you knew of where you could find any sort of hint of where to find him.

You pushed through the heavy door that led into Roy’s diner, immediately met with several heads whipping your way to get a look at the visitor. Since it was the morning, there were far fewer people than there had been the first time you came, but you saw several familiar faces, including Roy himself. You walked in nervously, feeling a little out of place now that Jungkook wasn’t by your side, which everyone was quick to notice. “Do you know where Jungkook is?” asked one of the older men that he had been talking to during your previous visit.

“That’s the problem,” you sighed. “He left last night saying it was an emergency and I haven’t seen him since. He isn’t answering his phone either.” You shook your head, looking down at your phone one more time, hoping to be proven wrong. The news even made Roy stop what he was doing behind the counter to listen, worrying just like the rest of them. They all shared concerned, knowing glances.

Roy approached you slowly, setting his towel down, explaining, “We heard news early this morning that there was a dispute between gangs.” You waited impatiently for him to continue. You figured that much already. “Jungkook’s father was killed.”

The breath left your lungs and you now understood why he didn’t return. You knew him well enough to know that he must be out there somewhere trying to deal with what he’s feeling, and from what you knew about him, he probably wasn’t coping well. Now you had to make sure he was okay. “Tell me where I might be able to find him.”

They tried to convince you to let someone else look for him and find him knowing he might not be in a good state, but you insisted that you would find him yourself. They gave in finally and mentioned several places he visited frequently, one of them being his home address, which you were thankful they trusted you enough to give to you, and you decided you would start there. You entered the address into your phone for directions since you had no idea how to navigate in this area of the city. Finally, you came to the house that the map had led you to, and it was a house just like any other that you had been passing for the past few minutes. You weren’t sure why you were expecting anything different.

When you carefully knocked on the front door, it creaked open ever so slightly from the little bit of force you gave. You pushed it open just a slight bit more, calling Jungkook’s name, hoping to find him inside. You received no answer though, which prompted you to take a tentative step inside as you pray that you got the right house and you weren’t accidentally walking into a stranger’s home.

Only a few steps in and you heard the crunch of glass underneath your shoe, and you looked down to find a picture that had fallen of the wall and smashed onto the floor. When you took a closer look, you saw a boy with familiar round eyes and you knew you were in the right house. As soon as you rounded the corner, however, you see that the living room and the kitchen had been trashed and torn to shreds, displaying a mess of broken glass and papers and trash scattered across the floors. Suddenly you suspected that the picture by the front door hadn’t fallen by accident.

After you had called out for Jungkook several more times, you concluded he wasn’t in the house. You began to look through your small list of other possible locations while leaving the house and carefully pulling the door shut behind you. You stopped in your tracks just as you reached the bottom stair when you heard a familiar voice, and after you searched, you found just who you had been looking for. Only, you weren’t expecting him to be threateningly pinning someone up against a wall.

You approached quietly, listening for what you hoped would be an explanation. You saw Jungkook had pinned a man by the collar of his shirt to the outside wall of a building in an alleyway just on the other side of the road from his house. “Are you one of them?” he screamed, interrogating the terrified man.

“One of who?” the poor man questioned, fighting Jungkook’s grip, though you were surprised he couldn’t escape given Jungkook only used a single hand.

Jungkook bared his teeth in rage. “The bastards that killed my father!” You approached slowly, calculating the best way to deal with Jungkook while he was in such a fragile state. Though your knowledge about this was limited, you knew for sure that this man had no gang affiliations just by looking at him and how he seemed as if he hadn’t fought once in his entire life. Throwing a beer bottle down, smashing it to pieces that violently scattered causing both you and the man to flinch away, Jungkook cried out, “I promise I’ll obliterate every single one of them!”

You took the chance to lurch forward and firmly take hold of his arm, hoping to bring him down from his rampage. Jungkook’s head snapped to you and the man used this distraction to escape his grip and make a run for it. Jungkook noticed and wanted to push past you and chase after him, but you blocked his path, though he kept fighting to pass you, blinded by rage and, from what you could smell in his breath, intoxication. “Please, Jungkook, calm down! I know your pain, trust me, but this isn’t the right way to handle it! Let me help you!” you tried reasoning with him.

He pushed your hands off of him, backing away. “Who said I wanted your help? Who said I wanted you to force yourself into my life and try to fix everything?” he spat. You shook your head in disbelief. “I’m perfectly fine! What makes you think I need to be saved?”

“Jungkook, I know you don’t mean that.”

“I do!” he shouted. His shoulders heaved and then the tension in his face began to melt. “I…” He spoke more unsurely now. Then he had dropped himself onto his knees, hands pounding into the ground. Worried he was hurt, you slid down beside him only for his arms to wrap tightly around your waist. His face buried into the crook of your neck and he began to sob. You were worried and you hurt for him, yet somehow you were also relieved knowing that he was finally able to let go of the idea that he had to always be strong. You soothingly ran your fingers through his hair as you let him stay there for however long he needed. “He’s gone,” he choked out weakly.

Jungkook never told you much about his father. In fact, he said that he didn’t see him much and that they weren’t close. You couldn’t tell if that had been another lie to keep you from knowing the truth or if that had been true and he felt this way purely from the fact that he had lost both of his parents now. Either way, you could tell he was broken. “It’s okay,” you whispered.

“Promise me that you’ll stay with me, _____.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you assured him. There you both sat, in the middle of an alley, where Jungkook finally shed what very well could have been his first tear, and you knew that he needed you.

After seeing the state his house was in, you figured it wasn’t the best idea to let him return there alone for fear he might go off the rails again, so you let him come with you. You weren’t sure whether your mother would be home or if she would ever even notice if you kept him up in your room, but you were willing to face whatever she had to say if she were to find out, knowing this was about your only option. You had to support him on the way as he drunkenly stumbled through the streets at midday.

When you finally arrived home with him and led him up to your room, he collapsed in exhaustion on your bed. You looked over him in concern for a moment before sighing as you combed your fingers through his hair. You figured you would get him some water for when he woke up since he had consumed so much alcohol, but when you tried to leave his hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you back to him. “Don’t leave,” he mumbled. You glanced back at the door, but you ultimately decided to follow his request and stay with him.

You sat down beside where he laid, pulling your wrist out of his grip and sliding your hand into his to hold it comfortingly. You saw a hint of red on his face and squinted to get a better look, but you had to gently nudge his face to get him to turn to you from where he had it buried in the sheets to block out the light. You saw his lip was letting out a fair amount of blood and you began to get up to clean it up, ignoring his groan of protest as you left his side.

You came back with a cold, wet rag to press to his lip to stop the bleeding. You sighed, giving his body a once-over, seeing clearly he was in bad shape, both physically and emotionally. You set the rag aside again after a moment and went back to softly stroking his head. You whispered to him, though you were sure he was too far gone in sleep to listen to you by now, “Please don’t do this to yourself again. Please don’t do something reckless and get hurt.”

To your surprise his eyes barely fluttered open at your words before they closed once again, but he exhaled heavily, assuring you, “I won’t. I promise.”

When you woke up the next morning, the bed had been significantly colder than it had when you went to sleep. As you blinked the sleep out of your eyes, you realized it was because Jungkook was no longer there, sleeping beside you with you wrapped in his arms like he had been when you fell asleep. He must have left sometime in the middle of the night. You couldn’t help but feel a little worried. You weren’t sure of he had completely sobered up yet, so you worried if he had gotten home safely or not. You called him, but he didn’t pick up. Then you texted him to ask where he was, thinking he probably wouldn’t answer that either, but to your surprise, he did. Although, all he said was ‘Don’t worry. I’m fine. I’m gonna be busy today.’ You knew something was going on, already, but you were immediately afraid for him when he followed with, ‘I love you.’

That was unlike him. He was possibly the least straightforward person you knew, so he only said that when he felt like he absolutely had to. And you were afraid of why he thought he had to tell you so suddenly.

Before you could barrage him with questions, you heard the bell ring at your front door, so you went to answer, hoping for some reason that it would be him. When you opened the door, it wasn’t Jungkook, but instead it was the man who had called Jungkook for the meeting and ultimately revealed the truth about him. He cleared his throat. “May I come in for a moment?” You hesitantly stepped back, opening the way fully for him to enter. “I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m Namjoon. I’m a member of Jungkook’s gang.” He said quickly, lowering his voice at the last phrase. He seemed to be rushing through the formalities to get to the real reason he had come. “Have you seen Jungkook?”

The question took you by surprise. You had been hoping to ask him the same question, but since he didn’t know either, your nerves were anything but calmed. “No. When I asked him where he was, he texted me saying he was busy and not to worry about it.” You thought for a moment, licking your dried lips. “He sounded off, though.”

Namjoon nodded attentively. “I see. There’s a good chance my suspicions are correct, then,” he speculated, pacing noticeably.

“What suspicions?” You were almost afraid to ask. It was easy to see that Namjoon was tense, so you knew that it couldn’t be good news.

“I think he’s going to try to get revenge for his father.” Your jaw went slack in shock. “I think he wants to kill that gang’s leader.”

“What? What if he gets hurt?”

Namjoon exhaled slowly, rubbing his chin as he spoke, “If that’s the case, he’ll be going up against several members before getting to the leader, so the likelihood is high.”

Your heart dropped in your chest. What was he thinking going up against so many people all on his own? You began to panic. “Well, what are you doing here? Someone needs to go help him or stop him or something!”

Namjoon said with the tap on the screen on his phone, “I’m already on it. I’m sending backup for him right now. I’ll be going too.” He was already taking large strides to the door when he quickly turned back around to you. “Keep the doors locked and don’t answer the door unless either me or Jungkook have told you to,” he warned before shutting the door behind him.

Somehow his warning made you even more nervous. You were sure you had nothing to worry about for yourself since you were far away from where all the action would take place, but it clearly meant that he thought these people were dangerous. And Jungkook was going to face them all alone. You just hoped that his backup got there fast enough.

You had been trying to shake the thoughts out of your head for far too long until you began to feel cramped within the walls of your own home. Though you were aware of Namjoon’s advice, you decided to walk for a bit to clear your head and to get some fresh air. Surely no one wanting to hurt you would be brave enough to cross the river to the highly-secured side of the city. You had been wandering for a while, not paying much attention to where exactly you were going and instead following wherever your feet carried you as you watched the petals fall from the cherry blossoms in order to distract yourself.

Eventually you found yourself stopping just before the bridge. Just a few more steps and you could be crossing over to get Jungkook out of his mess once again, but he said it himself. It wasn’t up to you to save him. He’s going to be okay, you assured yourself. With eyes still glued to the opposite end of the bridge, you turned around to walk back home.

As you began the walk back home, you thought you saw a shadow of someone behind you, but when you turned no one had been there. You were sure it was only your imagination, but now you were starting to wish you had stayed at home as your nerves began to act up. You took up a quicker pace, finally deciding you were safe after you were walking with no interruption for a few minutes. Just as you were calming down, you jumped as the ringer of your phone blared in the thick silence of the streets. You breathed in relief as you brought it out of your pocket and read your mother’s name displayed on the screen.

“Hello?” you answered. She was asking where you were since you had told her you would be home for dinner with her. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m coming home right n—” Your words were smothered by the gloved hand that latched itself over your mouth. You tried to tug yourself free and cry out for help, but your arms were only swatted away and your phone tumbled to the ground still on call with your mother. You frantically swung your feet in attempts to escape, but they were swept out from under you and you fell to the ground, your head hitting the pavement and darkening your vision until you lost consciousness.

Your head was pounding when you finally gained some awareness again. You could tell there were voices around you, but they were difficult to discern since your groggy state made everything sound muffled as if you were underwater, with the way it was muddled in your brain. It took a while to finally come to, but when you did, you could finally make out one of the voices as the very one you had been waiting for. When your eyes came into focus, you could make out Jungkook standing across a large room from you, pointing his gun at something to your right. You tried to turn your head to look despite the shooting pain in your neck from how you head hung down unnaturally. Your eyes met an unfamiliar man, also holding his own gun, but instead of pointing it back at Jungkook, it was directed at you. You tried to moved, but your limbs were bound to the chair you sat in.

You gulped, realizing the situation, most of your mind’s fogginess disappearing. “Look who’s finally decided to join us,” he observed, smiling sinisterly in your direction.

Jungkook briefly met your panicked eyes, but he diverted back to the man keeping a stone cold expression. “How did you find her?”

“You’re very reckless. How do you expect to take your father’s place?” At that remark, Jungkook’s grip tightened on his pistol and bared his teeth in anger. His finger twitched on the trigger and he was going to give in, but when the gun in the man’s hand was pushed closer to your temple, he brought the gun back down slightly in order to stop him from hurting you. The older man only chuckled. “You had such great potential to become a cold-blooded killer, an unstoppable machine, but instead you hold yourself back with these distractions.” The man tilted his head in indication of you as said “distraction.”

“The only person I’m looking to kill is you.”

“Are you sure you want to say that to me right now?” he asked, teeth bared and all easiness void from his tone. The mouth of the gun was now pushed harshly into your temple and you squeezed your eyes shut with a sharp intake of breath. Only a moment later, though, you no longer felt its the cold metal on your skin and you saw he had lowered it out of the corner of your eye. His face took on another chilling smirk. “You know, I could go ahead and kill her now… but then again, she would make an awfully pretty prize.”

Jungkook was fuming and, raising the gun once more and taking a risky step forward, he growled, “Don’t fucking touch her!” The man only stared back at him daringly, analyzing his every movement, the way his feet faltered in their placement on the ground, his hand just barely shook as he held out his gun. There was no way he would risk anything as long as you were in danger.

Suddenly there was a faint shuffle somewhere within the walls of the large warehouse you were held in and everything went silent as everyone went on alert, listening carefully. Suddenly, you flinched and your heart beat erratically as a gunshot ran through your ears, and it took a moment of panic to realize it hadn’t been directed at you. You turned to the side, seeing the man had dropped his gun and grabbed onto his arm in pain. His groan of pain was cut short by yet another bullet lodging into his thigh, causing his leg to give out on him and he fell to the ground.

Then a crowd of men came from the direction of the bullets, led by Namjoon who had been placing a handgun back into his waistband. Jungkook ran over to you to free you from the ropes that held you down, pulling out a switchblade from his pocket and cutting you free. When all of the ropes around you fell loosely to the floor you wrapped your arms around him, feeling his heart beating rapidly. He pulled away and his eyes travelled to your forehead. He carefully reached out to touch it and when his fingers barely brushed your skin, a pain shot through your skull. You brought your own hand up and felt what must have been dried blood. You hadn't even realized that had been there, but you deduced it must have been from when you fell to the ground during your kidnapping.

Jungkook lifted you out of the chair hastily with Namjoon by his side when commotion broke out in the back of the building. More men poured in from where Namjoon and the others had come, but they had their guns pointed at Jungkook’s men. Your feet slowed in their movements as you realized they were going to fight the men who had come to save you. Jungkook tugged you ahead and consoled you, telling you they would be fine, gesturing to the reinforcements coming in once Namjoon opened the front doors. As they passed by Jungkook, you figured they must be on his side. Taking once more glance back, you saw the other men retreating and dropping their guns as the soon realized they were far outnumbered and you briefly glanced at the leader who was still shuffling on the ground with his wounded leg. Jungkook had seen this, too, as he picked up his speed with you right beside him. You heard a gunshot go off and Jungkook roughly pushed you out the door. When you looked back inside as the three of you had finally reached safety outside, you saw no one else who had been injured, so you assumed everyone was safe.

You breathed heavily as the adrenaline began to wear off and your head began pounding because of your injury. You breathed a sigh of relief when you finally caught your breath, believing  the three of you had successfully reached safety, but you were quickly brought back to panic as Jungkook roughly leaned into the wall and let himself slide down to the ground, clutching his side. He hissed, lifting his hand and finding it stained crimson. You gasped and slid down next to him, Namjoon crouching beside you and examining the wound. You had been wrong when you thought that the gunshot had missed its target. No, it had hit exactly who it was aimed at, and that was Jungkook. A few men who had been in one of the many black vans parked outside the building came running over, carefully lifting Jungkook up from the ground and placing him in the back of the the van they had come from with a man with medical supplies waiting inside.

You followed behind them and stepped into the van when they set Jungkook down, not bothering to stop and wonder if they would even let you, but they did. The man grabbed scissors out of the case and cut open Jungkook’s shirt, blood seeping through the white material at an alarming rate. HIs shirt was pulled back to reveal the ragged gash in his side, and you had to look away. You found his hand in yours, however, and he squeezed it tight which felt like reassurance to you, but it was most likely because of the pain.

After a while of you silently staring out the window and Jungkook every so often hissing in pain, the bullet was removed and his torso was wrapped in a bandage. You finally looked back at him, relieved to see the job looked to be well done. Jungkook tried to readjust himself into a sitting position but immediately regretted it, groaning lowly and letting himself back down to lay where he had been before. You brushed your fingertips over the back of his hand and sighed as you watched his brows twitch.

Your head whipped towards the doors as Namjoon swung them open and climbed inside the back, sitting on the opposite side of Jungkook’s legs. He looked down at him with a frown pulling at the corners of his lips. His eyes hardened as they were suddenly directed at you, and the unpleasant frown took full form when he met your eyes. “I told you to stay inside!” Namjoon scolded. “That was all you had to do, but then you just had to get yourself caught.”

Jungkook, who still looked fairly worn out, did not miss Namjoon’s comment. “What?” he questioned, looking at you, and under his stare you couldn’t keep guilt from bubbling up to the surface. “You knew what going on and you still put yourself in danger?” Your lips pressed together in a tight line. His voice that was still weak, but you could tell he was trying to raise it.

You huffed, retorting, “What was I supposed to do? You had me so worried! Jungkook, you told me just last night that you wouldn’t do something reckless and get yourself killed! Then I found out you were going on some crazy revenge mission. You lied to me! Again! How long are you going to keep this up, Jungkook?”

“I’ll keep it up however long it takes! Be honest, _____. If I had told you what you wanted to know, would that have changed anything? No! You still would have done something stupid!” His fists had tightened and the veins in his arms protruded.

“Why are you getting mad at me?”

“Because you almost got yourself killed, that’s why!” His hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, not enough to be painful, but it held you securely. His hands shook and you just now realized how fearful his face appeared. His voice lost its momentum and lowered to just above a whisper, “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you today. I can’t let anything happen to you.” You could only swallow at his words, rubbing a thumb over the back of his hand that was still clasped onto your own. He sighed, defeated and resigning, “I know I shouldn’t have lied. I’m sorry.”

“But that’s the thing. You keep doing it. You keep lying because you think you have to, but you don’t! Please don’t lie to me anymore. There’s nothing you have to hide from me anymore.” He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away.

That was the last of what you said to him. He couldn’t promise you that the lies would stop. You weren’t sure if that meant he still didn’t trust you or that you couldn’t trust him. You were in too deep for that, though. It’s not easy to give your heart away to someone without trusting them with your life. You tried to relieve your thoughts plaguing your mind through a deep heave of a sigh as you quietly closed the front door behind you. Your mother came running to the door at the sound. You thought she’d be at work.

She pulled you into a crushing hug before pulling away and inspecting the bandage that had been put on your head and interrogating, “Why did you disappear all of a sudden? And what happened to your head?”

You pulled her hands away. “Mom, I’m fine. I’m okay.”

“No, _____, you have to tell me what happened. I heard that over the phone! You can’t tell me nothing happened!” she rambled frantically, cutting you off once again before you could even anwer her. “I was so worried, you know that! I even sent the police out to look for you! Can you imagine how scared I was when they brought back your cell phone they found lying in the street, but they said there was no sign of you anywhere around it?” She slammed your phone down on the kitchen table without breaking eye contact with you. You could see her eyes become shiny.

You looked away and hesitated to give her an answer. “There were some problems… But I swear I’m alright. Jungkook—”

“I knew it!” she burst out. “I knew this had something to do with him! I’ve always known being around him would put you in danger!” You tried to speak up in his defense but she stopped you with a motion of her hand. “Do you know how hard I’ve worked since your father’s been gone to keep us at the top? I only want to give you the life you want, but you’re ready to throw your life away for some low life boy off the streets!”

You screamed back in retaliation, “Don’t say that about him!” She gave you that look that she always does when you raise your voice at her, but this time instead of cowering away, you used her stunned silence to say what you’d wanted to say for far too long. “Do you really think I care about the money? I couldn’t care less if I didn’t have this big house or these expensive clothes! I just want my mom back.” She was still silent to your surprise and the tension between her angry eyebrow faltered only slightly.

Her voice was much more level now as she turned away and pinched the bridge of her nose, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from him.” She made her way out of the kitchen, only stopping once more in the doorway, looking over her shoulder. “Please. I can’t lose you, too.”

Your shoulders slumped with your labored sigh as you watched her retreating back. You didn’t miss her trembling lip. You supposed you never thought too hard on the emotional toll that encumbered your mother throughout this situation. In no way was she innocent, but you, too,  were far from being in the right. Maybe you had been the selfish one all along, you thought, making your way up the stairs to your bedroom with guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders. You found the dress you had finally decided on for the gala laid out on your bed. You rubbed the soft fabric between the pads of your fingers in thought. What were you thinking, asking Jungkook to come to the gala with you? Neither him nor your mother wanted that. It was only what you wanted.

You picked up your phone and quickly called his number without another thought. After several rings too many, the line on the other end connected. “_____?” he answered, his voice sounded gruff and exhausted.

“You weren’t asleep were you?” you worried. He made a small grunt which you were sure was supposed to mean no, but you knew it wasn’t true. He needed to rest to heal, after all. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m doing alright... Better.”

“That’s good,” you said, trying to make your way into the subject you had called about. “Listen, you probably forgot about it by now...”

“The gala’s on Saturday. I know. I promise I’ll be there, don’t worry.”

“Actually, I was going to say that you probably shouldn’t go.” You gnawed at your bottom lip, waiting, as it was suddenly silent on his end.

“Why?” he finally asked, sounding more aware and perturbed than you would have expected.

“Well, you need to heal. It would just be better if you didn’t go.”

“I’ve healed in less than a week before. I’ll be fine.” You didn’t say anything. He was suddenly so determined to go with you after you practically had to beg him when you first told him about it. “Why don’t you want me to go?” You could hear the frown on his face. You couldn’t understand why he was getting so upset.

You gave a weak chuckle in hopes to lighten the mood. “Why do you want to go so badly all of a sudden?”

He ignored your question. “Did your mom say something?” You clicked your tongue in response, but he knew you well enough to know that meant that you didn’t want to answer the question. He chuckled dryly. “Are you serious? I thought you weren’t gonna let your mom stop you from doing what you want from now on.”

“I know, but this is… different,” you found yourself whispering into the phone. It suddenly felt like you were talking behind your mother’s back.

“Oh, then what is it? Is it because you’re too embarrassed to be seen with me by all the rich heirs?” He now carried an accusatory tone. He always had a bad habit of jumping to conclusions.

“Of course not! You’re being ridiculous!”

“Then why don’t you want me to go?”

“I’ve just... been insensitive to my mom. I just don’t think it’s the best idea.”

“Insensitive to her? Have you forgotten how wonderfully she treated me?”

You’d had it then, groaning as you hung up the call. You threw your phone down on the bed and went to get changed in the bathroom. You heard your phone vibrate from its place on the bed and you could just barely make out Jungkook’s name across the top of the screen, but you didn’t make a move to answer it. It took three more missed calls until he finally gave up.

It was a petty, stupid fight, and yet it was Saturday and you hadn’t heard from him since your last phone call. You tried to tell yourself you were just giving him time to rest and recover, but in reality, you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to him. You wondered if he regretted it as much as you did.

The nerves fluttering in your stomach as you thought about the gala you were getting ready for made you begin to regret telling Jungkook not to go with you. You lightly brushed your fingers through your styled hair and took one last look in the mirror, scrutinizing the way the dress hung on your body. It wasn’t nearly as pretty as it had seemed before. It looked duller and you wished the skirt wasn’t so plain and lifeless. You weren’t sure what you had seen in it in the first place. You heard your mother call for you from the first floor, and on your way down you checked your phone one last time, but you still saw no notifications with Jungkook’s name on them.

You followed your mother into the limousine that drove you to the venue the gala would take place in, watching as you drove by the entrance to the bridge, wondering what Jungkook was doing on the other side. The rushing waters of the river seemed wider than ever.

You arrived at the gala much faster than you had hoped and found that many guests had already arrived. You walked in beside your mother, receiving several greetings and warm smiles, some looking more genuine than others. You made your rounds for a while, chatting with some of the other heiresses your age that you had known for years because of events just like these.

Eventually the crowd started to loosen up and the gala became more of a social gathering than a business meeting as most of the guests had already gone through a few glasses of wine. You chose to opt out of having any alcohol, though part of you wanted nothing more than to get drunk so the night would go by faster. After you finally got a break from conversation, you excused yourself and went down the hallway to the bathroom where it was much quieter and less crowded. You tried to pass by a man that you barely paid any mind to, but he reached out for your arm to grab your attention. “_____?” You turned and found that the face of the man that said your name was one that you were sure you had seen before, yet you couldn’t put a name to the face. “I’ve been looking around for you all night!”

You returned his charming grin with a polite nod of your head. “Oh yeah! I was wondering if I would see you tonight.” You were lying through your teeth and you were hoping it wasn’t painfully obvious.

“You’ve grown up quite a bit since I saw you last,” he said, looking you up and down. You chuckled nervously as his eyes lingered just a hair too long, especially now that you could smell the strong scent of alcohol on his breath after he had taken a step closer to you. “You know, we’re both set up to take over pretty powerful companies. I think we should try to get to know each other more—”

You frowned stepping back to regain your preferred personal space. “I’m sorry. That’s not something I’m looking for.”

You began to walk away, but his loud, gruff voice followed you, “You really shouldn’t cut someone off when they’re speaking! I think you should show me a little bit more respect!” He glared at you, clearly waiting for something, though you weren’t sure if what he wanted was an apology or just for you to say yes to him.

“And I think you’ve had too much to drink and that you’re a self-entitled prick,” you retorted. “I think you should get back to the party and leave me alone.”

He growled as you brushed past him, and he started to pursue you, but he was stopped short by a voice coming from behind both of you. “Hey. You heard her, man. Get out of here,” the voice ordered. You turned around to find Jungkook dressed in a suit and tie and with a flower in hand. The man only observed him incredulously until Jungkook sneered at him, making him finally give up and leaving only the two of you in the hallway. Jungkook’s glare finally softened once his eyes that had been watching intently as the man left found their way to your own. You hurried over to him, wrapping him in a hug and releasing a breath you weren’t aware you had been holding. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he apologized. “This is exactly why I wanted to come and I still let this happen. I didn’t want you to have to deal with guys like that.”

You stopped him, shaking your head to assure him you were fine. “No, no. I don’t even care about that. I’m just glad to see you again.” Your eyes trailed down to observe the black suit he wore, admiring how good he looked, but also chuckling at how out of character he looked. You weren’t complaining, though. Your gaze travelled to the flower he held in his hand and a grin spread across your face. “What’s this?”

You could see his cheeks slightly tint while he tried to explain himself. “It’s just an… apology, I guess,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, holding the flower out for your to take. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad about something so stupid. I promised I’d be here and I wasn’t.”

“I’m sorry, too.” You twirled the stem between your fingers. You grabbed his hand again and pulled him along with you. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I’ve had enough of this party.” You rounded the corner only to be met with your mother, skidding to a stop to prevent from colliding into her. “Mom.”

She sighed, and you were afraid you were going to have to face another lecture, but she surprised you by pulling you into her arms. “I heard someone raise their voice, and then I heard you… I got so worried.” She let you go and turned her eyes to Jungkook, looking upon him for the first time without contempt. “I’ve been thinking a lot recently after hearing how _____ talks about you. So I want to say thank you, Jungkook, for being there for her. I know there’s nothing i can say or do to make up for what I’ve said about you in the past, but I can tell that you love my daughter, and that’s all I want for her. I’m sorry for how horrible I’ve been to you.”

You looked between him and your mother. Jungkook’s words faltered for a moment, but eventually he just said simply, “Of course. I’ll always be here for her.”

Your mother gave a soft smile. She shook her head. “Don’t let me stop you. Go ahead and go. You’ve been here long enough,” she insisted, directing the last part to you. You smiled brightly and thanked her and the two of you headed out.

You two ended up sitting back in your usual seats at the counter at Roy’s. It didn’t exactly get you away from a rowdy, loud scene, but it was comfortable. You two were still in your clothes for the gala, so the old diners were teasing the both of you, saying you looked like you could get married right then and there. You were embarrassed, but you were also proud of how far the two of you had come. You were still by no means perfect. You two were a mess. A beautiful mess. The kind of mess that isn’t burdensome, that you don’t want to clean up because in it are beautiful memories of a time when all is perfect, like old family picnics with cream covered pies and messy little children who impatiently dig right in. “We’re kind of like a pie,” you looked up at Jungkook from where your head laid on his shoulder.

“What are you saying?” he broke out into laughter. The way his eyes crinkled in the corners and his nose scrunched up, it was beautiful.

“I don’t know. I’m just thinking.” You looked around. The neon lights that shone on the jukebox. The perfectly shaped swirl of whipped cream atop your shared milkshake topped off with a bright red cherry. The old couple sitting in a booth on the other side of the diner. It was all so beautiful. You’d never seen so clearly in your life up until this moment.

[fanficsaremylifeline]

I’ve got homework...

For the fantastic @fictional-worlds-are-exquisite, who prompted this story :)

It’s on AO3 too:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22450930

***

“Hi Mr Stark!” With an excited grin, Peter skipped into the workshop, and, after throwing his backpack into the corner, he turned to Tony. “How are you doing?”

“I'm good”, he smiled. “And you?”

“Me too, thanks.” Peter sat on the table, letting his feet dangle. “You remember that robot we made last week? You know, the one for physics class?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“No big deal, but I got an A for it”, the kid smiled, and blushed  pinkish in pride.

“Wow”, Tony nodded, “that's something...”

“No need to be impressed or anything”, Peter grumbled as he crossed his arms and the blush was substituted with creased eyebrows.

Tony walked up to the kid, trying to bite down his grin. “I mean, it's not like you did it all by yourself...”

“Well, Mr Stark, I'm very grateful for your materials and your time and your assistance, but...”

“Assistance?”, Tony snorted. “I ain't nobody's assistant.”

Peter just looked at him and gave an exaggerated and exasperated sigh. “Yes, sir.”

They held the stare for a moment or two, before Tony burst out with laughter and put his arm around Peter's shoulders. “Good job, I'm really proud of you. All the planning and shit, that was you. And, even though it might pain me to admit it, but it's not like you really needed my help for it, did ya?”

With a meek grin Peter looked up and just shrugged.

“Yeah, thought so”, Tony chuckled and gave his shoulders another squeeze. “Change of topic, though. And please, just stay calm, don't freak or anything, alright?”

“Ok...” The curiosity was written clearly all over Peter's face, and, sitting so close to the boy, Tony could almost feel him vibrating with anticipation. Oh boy, maybe he should put some safety distance between the two of them...

“So, there is a mission...”

“OMIGOD!”, he squealed, definitely a few octaves too high for Tony's liking, and all but jumped up, until he stilled all of a sudden, when remembering Tony's earlier plea. “I'm sorry, Mr Stark”, he remarked after a moment of silence, clearly giving it his all to sound nonchalant. “Please continue.”

“Of course.” In all fondness, Tony couldn't help but shake his head at the excitement; it distinctly reminded him of a little puppy, or a child on Christmas morning. “As I was saying, there is a mission...” Tony decided to ignore the little jump Peter did and the high pitched squeal. “Low-level stuff, a right-wing terrorist group, SHIELD has been monitoring. Swoop in, secure the guys, and done.”

“That sounds very good”, Peter nodded; his forced casual diction was absolutely ridiculous, as was him grabbing so hard onto the table, he actually warped the metal.

“Figured, that's why I thought that you would like to... Oh, shit.”

“What is it?”

Now it was Tony, who had to practice all his restraint and not burst into laughter. “I totally forgot!” Shaking his head, he turned to Peter, who looked all worried about what might have happened. “Sorry, of course you can't come along!”

“What?” And cue the face drop. Wow, this was what a kicked puppy looked like.

“Don't you have homework?” At this remark, Tony couldn't help the smug grin breaking through.

“Wha... You're the worst.” With realization came the creased eyebrows again and a look that could probably kill.

“Peter, your education is important, and I understand if you need to take a step back and...”

“Shut up!”, Peter moaned and boxed Tony's arm. “Nazis are worse than geometry.”

“I know that”, Tony nodded, “but will your teachers understand?” As hard as he tried, Tony couldn't keep up the concerned facade and let the grin shine right through.

It did drop at Peter's counter-measurement, though.

“I'm gonna tell May that you haven't been nice to me.”

“I can't believe you”, Tony grumbled. Playing the woman-Tony-is-afraid-of-card? That was low.

“Thought so”, Peter grinned; that damn shit-eating grin that warmed Tony's heart and made him want to tousle those unruly curls. “So, how about some light engineering, before you brief me on tomorrow's mission?”

***

***

“Hi Pepper!” Before Tony had even realized her walking inside, Peter had already wrapped himself around her in greeting.

“Peter, really good to see you.”

“You too”, he beamed up at her.

“Should I leave you two be?”, Tony deadpanned, seeing that nobody seemed to realize or care that he was there, too.

Peter turned immediately bright-red, let go off Pepper and jumped a bit away.

“Drama Queen”, Pepper rolled her eyes, before smiling at Tony, that perfect, breath-taking smile, that still robbed him of his breath.

“Still said yes”, he beamed back. When that epitome of amazingness stood in front of him, Tony couldn't help it; he somehow was a lovestruck teenager again, who couldn't stop but smile at the wonder that was Pepper.

“Lucky you. Anyways, I was looking for the two of you.”

“What's up, then?”

“Crime Stats. Since you're legally an independent contractor to the Avengers and have therefore no real connection to SHIELD and we're your contact people it's on us to get that information to them.”

“Why?”, Peter asked, “are they trying to keep tabs on me?”

“In a way”, she admitted. “Though the are really mostly interested in the numbers and statistics; for transparency reasons. Those numbers will be published, and passed onto authorities, as was agreed in the Accords.”

“Huh. Alright”, he nodded, “but you can just get all the stats from KAREN.”

“Yeah, I just need a hand to sort through the masses of information, so I can turn her log into an official document, which is why I need you too.” Now she turned to Tony. “He's a minor and as his employer, you're the one to sign.”

“Why not May?”

“Because then we'll reveal a bit too much identity”, Peter explained in her place and locked eyes with Tony. He could see it clearly in Peter's face: he was not in the mood for that right now. And neither was Tony; they were about to head to the lab and work on a spider-suit update. He was just about to shrug at the kid, á la 'guess we'll have to go through this', when something in his look changed to downright mischievous. Even before the boy started to speak, Tony knew he was not gonna like what he was about to say.

“That sounds like just Tony would be enough”, he remarked and turned back to Pepper; the grin gone, instead he shot her his best puppy eyes. “It's just... You know, I have a lot of homework...”

That little shit. Tony knew for a fact that this was not true.

“Oh, of course”, Pepper nodded. “School stuff is more important.”

“You need help with that?”, Tony asked, shooting the kid a look, communicating all the 'you better get me out of this'.

“Nah, I'm good”, Peter grinned. “It's history homework, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, you don't want Tony's help with that.”

“Hey!” He turned to his still perfect fiancée, and even managed a reasonably angered glare. “I am a genius for a reason!”

“Sure you are, honey”, she smiled and patted his shoulder. “Come on, let's get to the crime stats and leave Peter to his homework.”

“Fine...” He followed Pepper out of the room but, just before the door closed, he turned one more time towards the very smug teen, who just waved after Tony.

Oh, he was so gonna get him back...

***

“Hi Mr Stark!”, Peter chirped as he skipped into the kitchen.

“Heya kiddo”, he grinned back and downed the rest of his coffee. “You ready?”

“I hope you are”, Happy answered instead of the boy. “I gotta take you to SHIELD; monthly meeting, remember?”

Shit, now he did. Ugh, Tony'd rather cuddle a cactus that sit in there, listen to Fury and Rogers go on about... Something, probably; Tony never paid attention. And, since that has never caused any issues whatsoever, he didn't really have to go there now, did he?

There was one way though, he might just get out of that.

“I honestly didn't remember, and I already promised Pete to help him with his homework.” He turned to the kid, who didn't quite get what Tony was playing at; understandably, since it had been their original plan to tinker around with Mark XVI. “Didn't you say it was for a grade?”

“Oh yeah”, Peter nodded, catching onto Tony's plan and unpacked the one sure-fire way to get Tony out of having to attend; the mightiest weapon the Avengers could offer: Peter's puppy eyes. “I really need his help to get this right.” For good measure he patted his bag.

“Fine”, Happy groaned, not really trying to fight the puppy eyes, “I'll get Rogers to excuse you.”

“Thank you so much”, Peter beamed, “you just saved my life.”

“Yeah, right”, he grumbled and, after nodding at Tony, he turned and walked out of the kitchen again.

“Thanks, Pete”, Tony smiled, “saved me a world of pain.”

“Not so sure about that...” The skew grin Peter shot him was... Tony wasn't sure.

“Out with it.”

“I do have homework, for a grade and I could do with some help. It's just in English...”

Oh fuck. The puppy eyes Peter had just shot in Happy's direction were now aimed at Tony. And English? Well, Tony knew how to speak it, but other than that... Besides, comparing poems and shit? Who the fuck had time for that?

“Fine. Let me see what you got.”

“Great”, he giggled. “So, it's basically choosing an important happenstance in my life and comparing it to a similar situation from a book. Issue is, most important things in my life are kinda arachnid-powered and I can't write about that, can I? I mean, Batman, right? Watching Uncle Ben being... you know, and then becoming a superhero... But secret identity.”

Peter didn't even give Tony the chance to interject, which he'd like to do, since the kid got more and more morbid.

“Then I thought Hamlet, because you know, my parents, but my Uncle isn't evil, so nope.”

Shit, that was depressing.

“Then I thought Frankenstein?”

“What, engineered superpowers and now everybody wants you dead?”

“Maybe?”

Tony just shook his head, and Peter jumped up with a groan.

“This sucks so much! You know, I could do Alice in Wonderland! But no, it's all top secret.”

“As I take it, you don't have to fit with an entire book.”

“Fine. Then I feel like Bilbo Baggins”, Peter continued. “Just want to be left alone, but no...”

“Come on, now, we're two certified geniuses, we can figure this out. What do you want to write about?” Maybe this way they would get somewhere.

“I mean, I don't want to write about my parents or Uncle Ben, because if I do, I'll be sent to see a shrink again.”

“Which isn't a bad thing...”

“Mr Stark, focus. If I write about getting together with MJ she'll dump me right away, and I don't want that. Then I thought about you know...” He turned away and started to blush. “About... meeting you.”

“Well, it is a world-changing happenstance”, Tony smirked.

“OMIGOD!”, he cried out, “I got it! My Fair Lady!” With an excited grin he beamed at Tony. “Because, well, you, scooping me up from the streets, teaching me the ropes, not the societal ones, but like engineering and shit. And superheroing, too, but again, nothing I can write about.”

“So, you're Eliza Doolittle?”

“Yeah!”

“And I'm Higgins?”

“I mean, sorta...”

“No”, Tony shook his head, “I'm not taking part in that.”

“Come on! It's perfect! And, like you said, I don't have to fit the entire book!”

Damnit, Peter might just have a point with that story. Him, tracking down the kid; Peter over and over showing up, literally nagging  Tony into becoming an official Avenger. And he did learn and work hard to improve. “I guess it fits. So fine. As long as you make it clear that I am not such an asshole towards you as Higgins is towards Eliza.”

“I will speak of you only in the highest reverence”, he grinned and got to his bag, to get out his pen and paper, softly humming: “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain...”

Oh, what the hell did Tony get himself into right now? Well, at least it was better than sitting at SHIELD.

***

Tony was spread out on the couch, waiting for Peter to finally pick up.

“Hi, sorry”, he chirped eventually, just before Tony was about to hang up. “Was just changing, couldn't answer.”

“So I don't need to take it personally, good”, he chuckled. “You civilian or vigilante right now?”

“I'm just myself, Peter Parker.”

“Right then, Peter Parker. I had an idea for an upgrade for your other personality, wanna come over and check it out?”

“Uhm, no, sorry, I can't.” All of a sudden, the giggles turned into almost nervous stuttering. “I... I got homework, you know?”

“Oh.” Tony didn't buy that. Not at all. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Tony still didn't buy it. “You need help?”

“Nope.”

“Right then.”

“I can come tomorrow, though and we can work on that upgrade then, ok?”

“Sounds great.”

“Perfect. See you!”

“Call ended”, FRI announced.

Huh. Peter was keeping things from Tony now? Yes, 'having homework' was their excuse for every kind of meeting they wanted to avoid, but Peter had never used it on Tony. Should he worry?

Tony could just track Peter's phone and be at where or whatever the kid hid from him. And then Peter would never trust Tony ever again.

Probably it was just some weird nerd stuff with his nerd friends, nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing. This weird feeling in his stomach? Absolutely nothing that deserved another look at or that needed to be divulged in.

Only question: was Tony worried that the kid was in danger, or was he pissed that the kid kept it from him? Neither of those options were fair to Peter, though; he was old enough to make his own life choices and had every right to keep some things private, after all. If only Tony wasn't so curious...

.

“Hi Mr Stark!”, the kid beamed as he waltzed into the lab the next day with the widest grin on his face.

“Hey Pete.” Tony looked up to see him dance around Dum-E, before hugging Butterfingers and all but jumped over the workstation, landing right in front of Tony. “Wow, you're chipper.”

“Why wouldn't I be? Isn't the world just wonderful?”

“You really had fantastic homework yesterday, didn't you?”, Tony smirked at the teen that immediately turned beet-red.

“Uhm, yeah...”

“Kid, you're allowed to say no to me, you know that, right?” He put his hands on Peter's shoulders who looked up with wide eyes. “If 'having homework' is your way of doing that, I'm cool with it. Just don't feel like you have to lie to me; I can accept a no.”

“You sure?”, he grinned, still blushing, but a lot more cheeky now.

“I am. You wanna get to work then?”

Instead of giving an answer, Peter blurted out: “I was on a date!” He was somewhat embarrassed, somewhat proud, but mostly so damn smitten...

“I assume with Michelle?”, he smiled. The kid barely shut up about the amazingly smart captain of the Academic Decathlon Team, who was so badass and really funny and oh so pretty...

“Yeah”, he cooed and, if it was possible his entire face turned into one giant heart-eye. “We went to the Natural History Museum, they have an exhibition about Murderous Animals, like the serial killers of nature. Like Meerkats for example. They kill each other ten times more than humans kill each other! And like chinchillas, they're on fifth place. That's so weird, because they seem so adorable!”

“And your paramour liked that?”

“She loved it! It was like the perfect surprise.” Now it was pure pride that Peter exuded. “And then we got takeaway and watched the sunset from a roof top and it was so romantic.”

“Sounds absolutely perfect.”

“It was. And I'm sorry I said the homework thing... I just...”

“It's alright. Like I said, you don't have to justify yourself to me. Bigger question, though: Are you too caught in thoughts about your girlfriend or are you able to concentrate on not blowing us up?”

***

Tony thought he knew what pain and torture felt like after Afghanistan. But watching Peter like this, sorrowful and almost heart-broken, managed to top it off once more.

Today's patrol went absolutely disastrous. Tony hadn't managed to get the details out of the kid yet, but what he did gather was that during a bank robbery one civilian, trying to take down a robber, got shot, and that only moments before Peter had the chance to get there.

And now the kid was wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, curled in the corner. All Tony could do was stay close, and he was ready to get or do anything Peter might need from him.

“Hey Tony.” Steve walked up and sat next to Tony on the couch. “How's he doing?”

Tony just shot him a stare á la 'what do you think', but didn't get the chance to say just that.

“He can hear you, you know?”, Peter grumbled from his blanket pile.

“Sorry, kid.”

“Yeah, whatever...”

“What's up?”, Tony turned to the super soldier, who should actually know better than to crowd Peter when he was upset; it had unfortunately happened a few too many times.

“We need his statement.”

The wince coming from the blanket pile was quiet but Tony clearly heard it.

“Seriously Rogers, now?”

“I know, I know. But if we don't get it signed now, we'll be in a lot of trouble with Ross and the Accords.”

Shit. Peter stayed silent, but he balled himself up even more if it was possible. There was no way in hell, Tony was gonna let anybody force Peter to do any official shit.

“Well, first of all, since he's a minor, his signature is useless anyways. And besides... Peter has homework.”

“Homework?” Steve creased his eyebrows, until he got it. “Oh, right”, he nodded, “homework. Yes, that's important, I agree. And yes, since he's not a legally grown-up, my signature should more than suffice. ”

“Thanks.”

Steve nodded, got up and, just before he walked out of the room, the blanket pile moved a little. “Thank you, Mr America.”

“Anytime, Pete.”

***

“Peter, good you're here”, Happy smiled at the bushel of brown curls that peaked out from a bunch of wires.

“What's up?”, he called and only then resurfaced.

“Meeting Room C. In five minutes.”

“Aw, shit”, he groaned.

Tony couldn't blame him, Meeting Room C meant that it was some politic representative from City Hall. And that equalled deathly boredom. Thank the heavens, Tony was no longer responsible for all that.

“Come on”, Happy urged him.

“Sorry, Hap, I can't”, he decided. “I've got homework.”

It was silent for a moment, then Tony burst out laughing. The kid grinned cheekily at Happy, who looked like he just wanted to quit.

“Peter. You're 25, you're no longer in school.”

“Sorry, kiddo”, Tony wheezed, “doesn't work any more.”

“Aw, man”, he moaned but still got up and begrudgingly followed Happy. “This sucks.”

***

“Seriously”, Tony groaned for the umpteenth, “time for bed!”

“No, it's not”, Peter decided, “I'm a grown-up, remember?”

“And I'm almost a grown-up!”, Morgan stated. That she was only 11 didn't seem to matter right now.

“I'm a grown-up, too”, Tony shot back. “And I'm tired, want to sleep and you crazy kids are keeping me up.”

“But Daaaad”, Morgan moaned, “I can't go to bed! I've got homework, and Petey has to help me!”

Oh fucking hell. Morgan and Peter looked up at Tony with the smuggest grins and damnit, Tony was not in the mood to start arguing with them.

“Peter Benjamin Parker. I thought that joke died with your graduation.”

“Clearly not”, he shot back.

“Right then.” The quickest and easiest way was just to play along. “Homework, and then bed.” He sat himself at the table and looked expectantly at his daughter, who started to blush. Peter on the other hand had to bite down hard to keep from laughing out loud.

“Ugh, fine.” Morgan rolled her eyes and got up. “Good night.” She leaned over and put a kiss on Peter's cheek.

“Was a nice try”, he chuckled. “Sleep well, sweetie.”

“Come on, Morgoona.” Tony held his hand out and, albeit with an anger glare (as intimidating as the anger glare of a tired 11-year-old could be), she took the outstretched hand. “Don't worry, tomorrow morning you and Peter can do all the homework the world can possibly offer.”

[jamlally]

Movie Madness

This was written for the 25 days of Christmas Challenge that is hosted by  @panicfob .  The Day 21 Challenge prompt was Favorite Christmas Movie

Warnings: Stupidity and Fluff

Pairing: None  - it’s just some silliness with some of the Avengers team.

Summary: Is there anything more contentious that what to watch on TV?

Filled to the brim with the wonderful dinner, and tidy up as complete as it could be, everyone moved over to the sofas bartering over what they would do next.  It was a close run argument between board games and TV, but full stomachs lead to sleepiness which in turn lead to movies being picked

Ten minutes into a debate about what movie they would watch Belle had the start of a headache and they were currently in a stalemate. 

“Ok enough, lets do this the scientific way, everyone write their favorite Christmas movie on a slip of paper, we will put them in a bowl and draw out a winner” Bruce suggested 

“That’s not democratic decision, what if more than one of us pick the same thing” Steve argued

“Well then you have a statistically better chance of getting your movie picked don’t you” Bruce rolled his eyes in annoyance

“Ok so how about we do what Bruce suggested and then we count up the votes and if there is a clear winner then we go with that and if not we fold them up and do a draw” Wanda suggested

Everyone agreed and paper and pens were handed out and selections were added to the bowl.

Belle was picked as a relatively neutral party to count up the results and Tony was confined to the other side of the room

“OK so we have 1 vote for Elf, 2 for it’s a wonderful life  , 1 for Holiday Inn, 3 for die hard, 1 for Miracle on 34th Street, 1 for Christmas carol and 1 for How the grinch stole Christmas.  So that means it’s Die Hard”

Sam, Natasha and Clint let out a whoop while there was grumbling from a lot of the others

“What’s  Die Hard?” 

“You’ll love it Buck it’s about a guy who manages to save his ex wife and work colleagues from an office when they’re held hostage by kidnappers” Natasha filled him in excitedly

“It sounds fun, but it’s doesn’t sound like a Christmas movie to me”

“Ha see that’s my point” Tony cut in “I mean if you’re gonna class that as a Christmas movie then add in Gremlins as well - I mean it happens at Christmas”

“I don’t know what that is “ Steve cut in 

“It doesn’t matter what that is Cap” Clint called out “What matters is Die Hard won and it’s a Christmas movie and it’s wha we are watching”

“But what is a gremlin?” Steve asked looking confused.  Natasha picked up her phone keyed something in and handed it to Steve

“Good God I don’t even now what that is, but what ever it is it is not Christmas!”

“Well it doesn’t much matter does it - we aren’t watching that one” Natasha took her phone back 

Belle leaned over to Steve laying a comforting hand on his arm “It’s actually a fun film. I’ll put it on some time that there isn’t so much, excitement, about what we will watch” Steve gave her a grateful smile.

“OK so hang on” Sam stood in the middle of the room “ Why don’t you all describe what makes a Christmas Movie and we will see whether Die Hard matches up Ok.  FRIDAY put these items on the holo screen”

“It’s Christmas time”

“There is a problem that has to be sorted so someone can appreciate Christmas”

“People being with loves ones”

“Friendship”

“Loneliness  then being lonely”

“Christmas is the reason for change”

“Hope”

“A Happy Ending”

“Redemption”

Belle watched amused as the items were listed on a holo screen.  She didn’t mind that her favorite hadn’t been picked, she had old fashioned tastes in these things, but this entire debate was far too funny to miss out on.  At the rate things were going no one would watch anything because they would still be talking about it

“Ok those are all good things - I mean I don’t think they all need to be there to make a Christmas Movie but they’re good items,  Here’s the thing though,  I can check them all off against Die Hard.  Every, Single. One,”  As some of the others objected quite loudly Sam held up his hand “Aaaand it’s a damn sight cheerier than It’s a wonderful life too. I mean have you fools actually watched that movie? You can’t sit there and tell me that the middle of that movie isn’t just misery.  Be a good man or doom doom!  I mean come on”

Belle watched as there were a few nodding heads, Sam wasn’t wrong it wasn’t the most uplifting of movies for the majority of the run time.

“You know we still have quite a few days until Christmas, there isn’t any reason that we couldn’t work through the movies every other night so everyone gets to watch what they like the most.  Maybe people could share why they picked the movie, then we could all learn a bit about why people picked what they did.  You know see things in a new light” Wanda spoke up trying to diffuse what could become a heated discussion if left to go on for too much longer 

“Well now that’s a very sensible and boring way to put an end to the discussion just as it was about to get interesting” Tony gave a mock smile in Wanda’s direction  causing Wanda to blush and look down

Belle rolled her eyes, and jabbed Tony in the ribs with her elbow “Well I think Wanda’s idea is excellent and I second it.  This way we get to watch a movie rather than discuss a movie and maybe we get a bit more appreciation for some of the ones we don’t much like by understanding why others do”

“Well who am I to argue with you dear” Tony flopped back into the couch “And really Wanda, it’s a pretty smart plan.  OK bird boy sit your ass down and we will watch your selection” 

“Wait we need to know why they picked it” Bucky leant forward looking at Clint, Sam and Nat with a raised eyebrow.

The three huddled together for a moment debating before moving back to their seats, Natasha sitting forward to explain

“Well there are a whole heap of reasons, but the main ones are it’s fun, there is plenty of action and drama with the while Christmas backdrop, but it’s not schmaltzy.  A lot of Christmas movies are just so scaring and sweet and everything gets tied up neatly in a festive bow, but in Die Hard it isn’t.  Sure there is doing things for love and building new friendships, but there is also action, explosions and a great bad guy.  The thing is, when you do the things we do, the soft and fluffy movies, well sometimes they just make you feel worse about life. This one doesn’t”

As the movie started Belle found herself distracted as she thought about what Natasha had said,  She had always assumed that because these guys spent their lives dealing with some of the worst things in the world, they would want something lighter and dare she say jolly.  She had never thought how being faced with that would could make these guys feel worse about what they did.  She half paid attention and half wondered about what the others would say about their choices when they came up.

A few nights later it was movie night again and the second choice movie was up.  It’s a wonderful life was considered a Christmas Classic so she wasn’t all that surprised that it came up on the list.  Belle had guess that at least one of the Super Soldiers would have picked this movie but she hadn’t counted on Bruce being in that group.

“For me it’s about memories and sitting in a chair with why grandfather watching the movie and drinking cocoa.  It’s just a classic Christmas Movie.  Yeah bits of it are sad but the sense of joy at the end is incomparable” He had explained

“It’s memories for me too - old and new” Bucky had smiled at Steve and Belle then “It’s not ll perfect, even at the end, but people grew and changed”

When it came to the remaining movies it was a tie so one afternoon it was agreed that they would  have a movie marathon.  Wanda had explained the Elf reminded her of early Christmases with Pietro and she loved the fact that it made her laugh.  Tony had explained that A Christmas Carol was one of the few movies he remembered watching with his mother, and she would also read the story to him every Christmas.  Belle had snuggled into him when his choice came on, feeling that he would perhaps need some closeness. 

For Steve Miracle of 34th Street was one he had picked out because it had been his favorite when he had gone on a movie binge one evening.  He liked the jolly father Christmas and the child and the fact it was black and white, and it didn’t make him feel out of place like newer movies did at times.

Belle had felt uncomfortable when it had been her turn to explain. Holiday In had always been her favorite but probably not for a reason that anyone would understand.  She had thought about lying but the others had all explained their thoughts honestly so she took a deep breath and told the truth 

“Christmas wasn’t big in our house.  After dad was gone it didn’t get any better,  Mostly my mum would do what she wanted, and I would hang out at school or home, but usually on Christmas Eve she would make cocoa and we would sit in the living room and watch Holiday Inn. She would usually end up leaving before the movie was done, but for a little while we would be like a regular family.  It didn’t hurt that Bing Crosby had the best  voice  and Fred Astaire danced beautifully. Tony had hugged her close and for the first time she got to have good memories to go with the movie from start to end.

Later that night in the apartment Tony had put on White Christmas and taken Belle in his arms and danced her slowly around humming the tune as they moved. 

That had just left How the Grinch Stole Christmas, which no one would admit to adding into the mix.  Never the less they had all settled in to watch it, laughing at the frolics on screen and throwing popcorn at each other.

As the closing credits rolled Sam stood clapping his hands together “You know I really liked watching everyones choices, but I’ve to to say Die Hard is still the best Christmas Movie”

[kumeko]

half-baked and undercooked

Characters/Pairings: Uraraka/Midoriya, Mina

A/N: Written for the @bubbletea-zine. Mina might have been a little too fun to write here.

Summary: Uraraka was going to confess today. Provided she didn’t accidentally break Midoriya’s laptop, spill a drink on him, or drop his food.

…

…

…

…

 “Your boyfriend’s here.”

 It took Uraraka a moment to register what Mina whispered, and a further moment to process what she was seeing. Midoriya had entered the café, standing awkwardly by the cash register as he waited for someone to take his order. Spotting them, he waved, and she gingerly waved back. It took her a moment longer to actually understand what Mina said, what her singsong tone implied. Quickly, she whipped back to her co-worker and hissed, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yet.” Mina grinned like a cat that caught the canary, her expression promising mischief. It usually meant fun, particularly when directed at her favourite targets like Sero or even Bakugou. But now it was directed at Uraraka, and she regretted ever encouraging her.

 “You’re going to jinx me,” Uraraka growled. It had taken her months to feel brave enough to confess, and now she was on the verge of chickening out. “What if he heard—”

 Mina snorted, covering her mouth as she giggled. “Him? Uraraka, he’s like a brick. He’s like that cake you tried to bake—”

 “Right, right, got it.” She forgot to check the oven one time and Mina never let her hear the end of it. “Anyways, shut up.”

 “Shutting up.” Mina zipped her lips, winking as she pushed Uraraka toward the counter. “Go get him, tiger!”

 “That’s not shutting up!” One last glare over her shoulder, and Uraraka gave a big smile as she approached their over-crowded counter. They might have overdone it a bit with the baking this morning; cookies and cake almost burst out of the display rack and cashier baskets. “Hi, Midoriya-kun!”

 “H-hi!” Midoriya was ramrod straight as she stood across from him — even his messy hair was at attention. Her heart flip-flopped as he smiled. “I’ll have—”

 “The usual?” She guessed, grinning when he nodded eagerly. Over his shoulder, she could spot his laptop and books stacked at his favourite spot. Another long haul today, it seemed. He was even wearing his frumpiest sweatshirt, a comfortable choice when sitting for hours. “An exam coming up?”

 “Something like that.” There was something off in his voice, something hesitant about the way he answered. Uraraka couldn’t quite place just what felt strange about it, just that it was strange.

 “I can double the caffeine,” she suggested.

 Midoriya visibly perked up. “Really?” Then he stood up even straighter, if that were possible, fidgeting with the ends of his sweatshirt; his fingers twisted the fabric nervously. “Actually, that’s not what…do you want…”

 She slid the sales machine over to him, cocking her head curiously. When his face turned a dark shade of red, his mouth hanging open, she finally asked, “Is something wrong?”

 “I-it’s nothing.” Quickly, he pulled out his phone and paid, almost running to his table. Silently, she hoped Iida would show up later — that exam must be hard if he was panicking this much. Law school was definitely no joke, but Midoriya had never acted like this before.

 Maybe Mina was onto something if Uraraka knew him well enough to think that.

 A low voice whispered in her ear, “You didn’t ask him.”

 Uraraka jumped, almost head-butting Mina in surprise. With a sharp jab, she herded her coworker to the coffee machines so she could get to work on his order. “Mina,” she scolded.

 “What?” Mina blinked innocently, her hands already putting together Midoriya’s favourite sandwich. Uraraka could almost see a halo above her head. “I’m just observing, as any good barista should.”

 “That’s not what Yaoyorozu meant!” Uraraka could almost hear her boss’s stern lecture. Considering her, there was a possibility she’d ramble for hours, and it was bad enough enduring it after Mina had dyed her hair pink. “And he’ll hear you if you keep talking like that!”

 “I think he’s a little busy.” Mina giggled as she toasted the bread. “He looks like a zombie.”

 Peeking over her shoulder, she saw Midoriya staring blankly at his screen, his fingers hovering over his keyboard. Was he psyching himself up for studying? Either way, he wasn’t paying attention to them at least, and she gave a sigh of relief. “He looks really worried.”

 “School does that.” Mina scowled as she slapped cream onto the bread. “Exams, tests, they should all burn.” Each word was punctuated by an aggressive shake as she mixed together the lettuce and meat for his salad next.

 “You’ve been spending too much time with Bakugou,” Uraraka chuckled nervously. Staring at the drink she’d just made, she blanched as she saw the heart she’d subconsciously made in the foam. Quickly, she stirred with a spoon — Midoriya wouldn’t care if it was pre-stirred, and Mina would never let it go if she spotted it.

 “Have not.” Mina pouted for a moment before pushing the rest of his order into her hands. She gave a sly wink. “This time make sure to ask!”

 Uraraka stuck out her tongue. Busybody. But she was grateful— even if she could feel her courage withering away with every step she took. At least he wasn’t paying attention to her; he was concentrating on his laptop, his lips twisting as he thought hard. Midoriya was serious about everything he did, no matter how trivial, and she wished she could be as earnest as him. “Got your order.”

 “Huh?” Midoriya jumped at the sound of her voice, a frazzled smile crossing his face soon after he noticed her. With shaky hands, he gratefully accepted the tray of food. It clacked with each movement he made, before it safely settled on the table. “Thanks.”

 “No problem.” She set down his latte next to him before standing there awkwardly for a moment. With his gaze directed her, she lost almost all the strength Mina had given her. Rubbing her arm, she considered running away for a moment.

 “Uh…” Midoriya looked at her quizzically, and of course he would, she’d just stood there silently for the last five minutes without saying a word. Maybe she should have taken that public speaking class, after all.

 “Hard exam?” she blurted out, needing to say something, anything. Even a question as stupid as that, because of course it was a hard exam — it was law school. There was no such thing as an easy exam in that field.

 “Huh?” He looked back at his screen before a soft oh escaped his lips. Scratching his cheek, he gave a weak smile. “Y-yeah! It’s really hard. I have three in a row.”

 “Three!?” Uraraka stepped back, grimacing in horror. “Think you can do it?”

 Midoriya shuddered for a moment at the question, paling rapidly before her eyes. His fingers started tapping the table as quietly muttered, “He’ll generally use the class notes…she likes to use textbook questions…” Frantic calculations practically seeped out of his skin, and she wondered why he didn’t take statistics or some other calculative job. Finished, he gave her a determined nod. “I will!"

 Was it a confidence thing? Or was he actually certain? Either way, she beamed broadly at him, giving him thumbs up. “Good luck!”

 Returning the thumbs up, he nodded. “Thanks!”

 They stood there silently for a moment, and just like that, the conversation was over. Of course it was, it was a simple conversation, and she was lucky enough it had lasted as long as it did.  Racking her brain, she couldn’t think of a thing to say. All she could think of were extremely corny ways to ask him out—If you pass, I’ll date you. She’d go out with him even if he failed.  If you pass, you’ll date me. That sounded like a threat. Date me! That reeked of desperation.

 Nope, it was time to cut her losses and escape. “Well, then—”

 “Um, do you—" He turned a bright red, opening and closing his mouth a few times. His hands gripped his sandwich tightly before he finally sighed and shook his head. “Never mind, sorry.”

 That was odd. Uraraka took a hesitant step toward him. “You sure?”

 His forehead was touching the table now, his voice muffled. “Yeah.”

 What was that? Uraraka stared at him before she waved and left. He really was acting weird today. Maybe he didn’t like his order? Midoriya was the kind of guy who’d quietly accept what he got instead of saying anything, so it fit. Musing it over, she didn’t notice Mina until she clapped her hand on Uraraka’s back once more.

 “You’re a chicken.” Mina gave her a disproving look, a tut-tut more implied than said. Uraraka took it back; she didn’t need her help. Not in the least. It was not worth the teasing she’d suffer both now and later. “You didn’t even try!”

 “I did!” Uraraka hotly defended herself, embarrassed by how correct Mina was.

 “Surrreeee.” Mina sighed, shaking her head sadly as though she were a lost case. “This happens every. Single. Time.”

 “I’ll try again later!” It didn’t even sound convincing to Uraraka's own ears.

 “Right.” Mina’s brow rose, looking doubtful.

 And in the span of an hour, that expression changed to one of disbelief. Uraraka had accidentally insulted Midoriya three times, broken two plates, and swapped an order. She was a monster, and her friend fortunately put her out of her misery by dragging her to the break room. “Take a break.”

 “I—” Uraraka stood up, protesting, only to get shoved back down.

 “Take a break!” Mina ordered, rolling her eyes as she left. “Before you accidentally destroy his laptop," she added on.

 Which was a possibility now, Uraraka sighed as she sat down. Mina, the queen of skipping shifts, was telling her to skip a shift.  Despite her embarrassment, she felt oddly honoured. Mina almost never did this for anyone.

 What was she doing? She was so nervous over confessing that she was going to get fired. Or make him angry. It was hard to imagine Midoriya angry, but at the rate she was going, it could happen. Damn it. This day was not going anything at all like she’d hoped, like she’d planned. Resting her forehead on the table, she tried to absorb the coolness of the wood. Maybe she should try again tomorrow, or some other day.

 Sitting up, she patted her cheeks and headed back to the main counter. That was it, she’d do it some other day. Any other day. Feeling better, she headed back.

 Only to find him at the counter.

 Looking around frantically, she found an oblivious Mina carefully putting sprinkles on a cupcake. On a single cupcake, completely ignoring Midoriya’s timid 'hello?'

 Fine. She was an adult. She could do this. Uraraka plastered on a smile as she headed to the front. “Need anything?”

 Midoriya’s face turned red the second he spotted her, and he really had to get that checked. “N-no. I…”

 His corner was all cleaned up, his back hunched from the weight of his bag, and she filled in the blanks for him. “Done studying?”

 “Yeah.” Midoriya nodded his head so fast, she thought it’d snap off. “At least, as much as I can.”

 “Good luck,” she repeated, and maybe that was all of their conversations, a repetition of empty words and tomorrows. He always seemed to be holding something back and she, well, Uraraka could never say the words she wanted to say.

 “Thanks.” Midoriya bit his lip as he looked up at her. After a few seconds, he hunched over more and weakly waved his arm. “See you later.”

 “Bye.” Uraraka watched him turn, hunched over as though the world was on his back. Maybe it was. She could feel it on her shoulders too, the weight of the words she couldn’t say. Was this going to be all of her days? Just keeping quiet, keeping it? Her throat clogged with feelings she wouldn’t voice?

 From the corner of her eye, she saw Mina give her thumbs up, and it was like a gunshot before a race, the trigger of a gun. Before she could stop herself, Uraraka yelled, “Let’s go on a date!”

 There was an echo in her ears, and it took her a few seconds to recognize his voice, to notice that he’d turned around, bright red, and shouted the same thing. Instantly, her face shot into flames and eloquently, she asked, “Huh?”

 He looked just as surprised as she did, but he recovered faster. “Please go out on a date with me!"

 Somehow, they had both simultaneously asked each other out, at the exact same time. Uraraka swallowed, her mouth dry all of a sudden. This scenario had never played out in her fantasies. Her head nodded like a bobble-head. “Y-yes!"

 Behind her, Mina cackled loudly, not even waiting for them to finish talking, and Uraraka silently promised to kill her the moment her shift was over.

[artistic-writer]

Sparking the Pavement :: CS Moto GP AU :: E

Title: Sparking the Pavement by @artistic-writer Rating: E (eventually) Summary: Killian Jones has everything he has ever dreamed of.  He likes fast bikes and even faster women, that is until almost losing his brother makes him rethink his life choices.  And then a chance encounter with a blonde bombshell on the race track gives him the chance to change and find love, but as usual, team politics get in the way and for the first time in his life, Killian can’t just get what he wants.  Moto GP racing AU. A/N: Ch 2! Sorry for the delay guys, my real life has been a bit...stressful to say the least, but here it is! Much thanks to @hollyethecurious who agreed to beta this, and to @doodlelolly0910 who regularly listens to me ranting about wanting to write when my fingers don’t want to work.

Taglist: @resident-of-storybrooke @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @hookedonapirate @winterbaby89 @courtorderedcake @initiala @cocohook38 @branlovesouat @teamhook @snidgetsafan @sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @wingedlioness @lenfaz @therooksshiningknight @ilovemesomekillianjones @bmbbcs4evr @blowmiakisscolin @deathbycaptainswan @onceuponaprincessworld @chinawoodfan  @seriouslyhooked @snowbellewells @wordsmith-storyweaver @jennjenn615 @delightfully-difficult-pirate @doodlelolly0910 @tiganasummertree @hookedmom @thejollyroger-writer @rachie1940 @unworried-corsair @cs-forlife @notoriouscs @killian-whump @darkcolinodonorgasm @mariakov81 @strangestarlighttree 

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Emma Swan had endured. Her life had been a rollercoaster of ups and downs beginning with the death of her mother when she was just five years old, something that set her father into a protective frenzy. She could barely breathe with how much he loved her, not letting her out of his sight for even a second. Emma woke up, she went to school, and she came home. Anything else in between was always under her father’s watchful eye down to every minute of the day.

Emma’s family were the Nolan’s and they had carved their name out in the motorcycle world by making some of the best quality crash helmets any racer could own since 1988. David Nolan had started the company after his twin brother, James, had been killed during the famous Isle of Man Tourist Trophy race. The TT, as it is known, is one of the most dangerous motorcycle races in the world, having taken the lives of over two hundred riders since it began in 1907. James’ helmet had been poor quality, the impact of his head with the asphalt at such a high-speed something he would never recover from.

David and James had a bond, a twin bond, that was severed the instant James’ heart had stopped. David had been unable to fly to the Isle of Man that week because of Emma’s school commitments, but he knew the second his brother had died without even so much as a phone call. The TT is one of the most gruelling road races of its kind. Thirty-eight miles of winding roads around the island that have killed both riders and spectators because of the unpredictability of the circuit, weather, and unmaintained terrain, and now James was just another statistic.

High velocity impact trauma resulting in death. That was how her uncle died, officially, on paper. Emma remembers that day like it was yesterday because it hadn’t been long after her mother’s death. Her father’s soul already crushed from the loss of his wife, she wasn’t sure he could take anymore, so she let him smother her for a time, knowing that it was all that was keeping him going. The Nolan crash helmet company was founded some months later and it gave David a renewed sense of purpose that he needed more than anything.

Emma, on the other hand, although happy for her father, was lost. She wasn’t like other girls. Her whole life she had been allowed to do whatever she liked, as long as it was safe, but that wasn’t what Emma wanted. She wanted excitement, thrills, action, and so, through contacts her family company had made in the business, she began riding motorbikes.

It was exhilarating. The wind in her hair as it pulled strands from beneath her leathers and whipped at the shaded visor of her helmet. The way her spine shook as she leaned over the fuel tank, the vibrations of the engine shaking every bone in her body, and the way her heart beat in time with the movement of the pistons between her legs. It was everything Emma had wanted, her escape, her refuge, and when road bikes became too mundane, she set her sights on bigger prizes.

It didn’t take Emma long to get her foot on the racing ladder. She dropped her father’s name a few times, his prestige enough for people to take her seriously when, as a tiny, blonde haired wisp of a woman, she had guaranteed her abilities to some of the sponsors. And she was as good as she promised, at first in small time with the odd race here or there when she could slip away from her father’s protective net he had cast around her life.

But she was a one of a kind and it quickly became evident just how brilliant Emma Nolan was.

She changed her name, without telling her father, to continue to soar under his radar. Emma knew that it wouldn’t be long before somebody in the racing world put two and two together and realised, that with the surname Nolan, she was David’s daughter. She changed it to Swan in the late 90’s and continued to race her way through the ranks just like she had dreamed of.

The world of motorcycle racing is not like any other sport on the planet. It is unique in the fact that there is no gender split, or prejudice, and both men and women race on equal terms. It’s unusual to see many women in the sport, and Emma wanted to change that. The lowest class, Moto3, was a breeze. The small engines were no match for Emma’s ability, her weight distribution almost perfect because of her size against the power of the 125cc engine, and soon she was being headhunted for Moto2 before she even had a title under her belt.

Everybody wanted a piece of Emma Swan. She was approached by no less than four different teams in 2000, all wanting to represent who they felt would be the first female MotoGP championship winner. It had never been done before, and whilst Emma couldn’t wait to rise up to the next level in the Grand Prix competition, she never would.

Ducati, another big name in the race scene, decided to offer Emma the best incentive for her abilities. They were also one of the only teams to not use Nolan helmets for all their riders, so Emma’s secret would be hidden for a while longer. She wasn’t scared of her father finding out, but she wanted to be in the top ranks before he did, because then there would be no way back for her and he would have to support her. Maybe it was a little bit like blackmail, but Emma knew her father wouldn’t be able to cut her career short if she was so invested.

Ducati already had an established team of riders, and even though they were not winning big in 1999, their two front runners had won them enough to stay just above last place. Neal Cassidy and Oswald ‘Oz’ Walsh were the one/two riders for Ducati, and the season had just ended when Emma was signed. The second the guys laid eyes on their new team mate they were impressed with both her beauty and her talent, and when she gave them both the flirtatious cold shoulder, they were smitten. That was, until pre-trial times showed that Emma was consistently faster than Walsh and the team decided to bump him to third rider status before the season had even begun.

The team that Ducati announced for the 2000 season was Neal Cassidy and Emma Swan and it wasn’t long before Ducati was a team up in the top tier of Moto2 once more, and it wasn’t long before, in the thrill of winning, Emma and Neal became an item. Neal was more than just her teammate. He had become Emma’s first love, sharing every win with her, celebrating in both the pit lane and in the privacy of their trailers. It was whirlwind by romance standards and in the buzz, Emma was blindsided by Walsh’s growing greed right under her nose.

Before long, Emma was at one with the bike given to her by her team, and was surpassing Cassidy in every race. Cassidy was becoming second to not only his second rider, but also his girlfriend, something that did not escape the attention of Walsh. He had never had a problem coming second to Cassidy and was happy to take the second seat. He still got paid, he was still making money from sponsors, but when Emma started winning, less and less people knew his name.

Walsh wanted to be back where he was. His revenue was drying up and where other people were being offered contracts for the next season, he was not. No one came knocking on his door, no one was calling his cell phone, and the only way he was going to get his name back out there, was if Emma wasn’t racing anymore. She was Ducati’s top rider and if Walsh wanted to be back in the team’s good graces, something had to be done.

--

“Think about it,” Walsh whispered into the shell on Neal’s ear as the music around them throbbed out its beat. “I’m just saying-”

“I know what you’re saying,” Neal snapped, a little irritated. Walsh had been going on and on about getting his second seat back all night and it was starting to wear Neal’s nerves thin.

“Then listen to what I’m saying,” Walsh added, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “If she can’t race then that means we can.”

Neal studied his fellow rider with a raised eyebrow. “Obviously,” Neal said with a roll of his eyes. He rolled his fingers over the cold outside of the tumbler glass he was caressing idly, the drink inside starting to warm under his touch. “That’s how race politics work, Oz.”

“Don’t you miss it?” Walsh continued eagerly, leaning forward over the grubbing dive bar table between them. “The crowds chanting your name, the feeling you get when they wave that chequered flag for you.”

Neal gave Walsh a sideways sneer and snorted a laugh through his nose. “How would you know what that feels like?”

Walsh ground his teeth in frustration, his fist balling beside his now empty glass. “I’m just saying-”

“Damn it, Oz, I know what you are saying!” Neal roared. The bar fell silent, all eyes on the two men huddled in the corner for a few seconds before resuming its usual activity none the wiser.

“Do you hear me though?” Walsh insisted desperately.

“Loud and clear,” Neal scoffed. He threw his head back and poured the last remaining remnants of his drink into his mouth, swallowing the tiny amount with disappointment. “What do you propose?”

Walsh grinned, his teammate’s attention full grabbed. “You know these piss tests they make us take?” He nodded eagerly. Neal glanced his way with a narrowed stare. “You can’t race without a clean result, right?”

Neal laughed in the back of his throat, a grunt escaping his mouth. “You know as well as I do, Emma would never jeopardize the chance to race.”

“Not willingly.” Walsh’s words drew Neal’s full attention, his tongue tracing the point of his canine.

“Go on,” Neal nodded.

“The next two races are back to back, so there is no time in between to celebrate a win properly. At the next race, you let Emma win,” Walsh continued quickly, his finger drawing insignificant lines along the dark surface of the table.

“No one lets Emma Swan win,” Neal laughed.

“And then, during the after party, she drinks too much, fails the piss test and you and I get a seat upgrade.” Walsh’s grin was pure elation, like a chimp with a banana.

“Emma would never drink before a race,” Neal said definitely, waving a finger at the barman for another drink.

“Not intentionally,” Walsh shrugged. “But maybe her boyfriend can persuade her to take a sip.” His hand dug into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. He pressed it to the table, sliding it across to Neal who eyed it suspiciously before lifting one of the flaps and spying the small pill inside. It was oval in shape, chalky and would easily disappear into the bubbles of a celebratory glass of champagne.

“Maybe I can,” Neal agreed in a small voice, a grin spreading over his features as he screwed the paper back up in his palm.

--

It wasn’t a plan that Neal thought they could get away with, but it did appeal to him. Neal had already been approached by Ducati’s MotoGP division for the next season, depending on how he finished his current season. So the real question was, did he want to race alongside his friend, who he knew he could beat and would win a title easily, or his girlfriend, who was a far better rider than he ever would be? The plan was simple and his only role would be getting Emma to partake in his drink. She would never have one of her own but she might be tempted by a charismatic smile and a boyish wink from her boyfriend. And she was.

After winning the mid-season race in first place, the team threw a party for her success and Emma was more than happy to attend, sipping bottled water for the entire evening. The next race was the very next day, a gruelling mid-season back to back that tested the limits of every rider on the track. A race was physically and mentally demanding on every rider, so Emma had established early in her career that she would do her utmost to ensure victory each time.

If only she was as strong as she thought she was.

Emma trusted too easily and it was perhaps her biggest flaw in character, something she had inherited from her mother. Walsh had approached them with two glasses, handing one to Neal with a slight nod. A kind face and a smile from Neal was all she needed to lift the glass to her lips and take a sip of the bubbling champagne, a celebratory tipple Neal said she deserved. It tasted good, fizzing on her tongue, but when she swallowed there was an aftertaste of something she didn’t recognise. She had searched her boyfriend’s face for an answer, but it became blurred through the haze of her eyes and the next thing Emma remembered was her disqualification from the next race.

Heartbroken didn’t describe how she felt. Rules were rules, and somehow, despite two extra tests that she insisted on, Emma’s urine analysis said that she was under the influence of drugs. It was impossible. Emma didn’t do drugs. She was a highly tuned athlete; she ran, she swam, she cycled and barely even drank alcohol. And then it all came back to her in a flash of blinding white light.

Walsh had handed Neal the drink. Neal had persuaded her to take a sip.

Before Emma had time to confront them both about how they had sabotaged her, there was an accident. Neal had taken the first rider spot, her rightful place, and Walsh had taken second, but in his arrogance had managed to high side his bike not even halfway through the race. A twist of his wrist had increased his acceleration out of the corner too quickly, his back wheel losing traction before suddenly regaining it again, the torque along the bike’s axis enough to throw Walsh clean over the handlebars.

He would have survived, had he not held onto the throttle, wrenching his shoulder out of its socket and rendering it useless. His limb flopped around as he had flown through the air, landing on the asphalt head first with an almighty thud right into the path of his own bike. Walsh had no chance. The motorbike was still at full speed and his leatherbound ragdoll body was no match for the force applied to it on impact.

Walsh’s death didn’t matter to Emma, but it did to the team. They needed a second rider to finish the season and when asked, Emma said she would have to think about it. First, she wanted to confront Neal, her so-called boyfriend, about how and why he and Walsh had felt it prevalent to wreck her chances at a championship title. She got it.

“No one remembers second place, and I sure as hell ain’t coming second to you. When the season is over, the only name people will be chanting from the stands is Cassidy. Not Swan.”

The more Emma listened to him the more she realised what kind of man her boyfriend was. He was small and manipulative and he would even stoop so low as to blame a dead man, insinuating that Walsh was responsible for her disqualification during the last race. His true colours showed on his face, in his excusatory words, and Emma was nothing if not good at reading people.

She could spot a scumbag a mile away, and Neal was definitely that.

Even worse, he looked her dead in the eye and told her that no one would believe her. It was her word against his and he wasn’t saying a word that might jeopardize his race career.

Emma never raced professionally after that.

It took her two years to find her passion again. Emma felt cheated by the racing world and turned her back on it, but the bug never left her. There was something missing in her life. It was more than a want, it was a basic need to be going fast again. A need to feel the engine against her thighs and her chest pressed against the fuel tank again, body as flat as it could be so that there was almost no wind resistance to slow her down.

Emma missed bikes, the smell of fuel and oil, even the way her cheeks got squashed inside of her helmet, but she couldn't go back to racing, not all the while Neal Cassidy was on the circuits. Two years had been enough time for Neal to make it up to MotoGP and for Emma to leave behind what had happened between them, but the yearning for bikes never left her and she spent the next year training to be a mechanic.

It was easier for Emma than it was for most. She knew bikes like the back of her hand, inside and out, and she could take them apart and put them back together again with her eyes closed. Mechanic school was a piece of cake. Getting a job after she graduated was the hard part. Neal hadn’t just sullied her good name in racing, but he had managed to get her ghosted by the entire race world, and nobody would hire a junkie. Luckily for her, she had completed all of her qualifications in the surname of Nolan, so all she needed was a little help.