#I like the new one the colors are so much better

[thumperdaetime]

the music is punk because it challenges the norm. the clothing is punk because it challenges the norm. the politics are punk because they challenge the norm. it's not a sound, or a look, or a book, or a slogan. it's a way of thinking that puts radical acceptance and relentless pursuit of joy, face to face with a world that wants you dead. you can't put a price on it. the disabled woman that says "fuck it people know I can't hold my blatter anyway. I don't care if they can tell I'm wearing the rehab-provided brief. Get me my bright lipstick I'm going to bingo!" is flexing the same muscles as the suburban white boy who steals eyeliner from his conservative mother. they are both people using identity, to create joy and signal comradery in lonely times, reputation be damned.

not to mention, all of the clothes I have been able to afford new when I was in my poorest moments were shit quality anyway. anything you can do to extend the lifespan of a physical object that was made under the modern fast fashion system past "thrown out, unsold at the store" is a win. in the same way that any pressure you can keep against an actively bleeding wound is a win. cloths are a common class of tools we use to help regulate our comfort, with that is with the temperature or our cave-mates. if the clothes make you feel uncomfortable they are already useless. it is already trash. why not try anything to see if it works? there are intelligent capable people across the centuries who died dreaming of what to do with once gorgeous expensive trendy fabric, that will now look dated and trashy outside of "the spring of '32 when i fell in love with jazz." or whatever the kids are into these days. the stupid walmart blazer you took a chance on 2 years ago but now feel "too X to wear" is no different. either you trash it now, or live with that trash in your home until your kids do it for you, while crying about how they always thought you looked good in that color. you might as well see if there's enough fabric to re-make that halter top you loved in college. when it looks homemade you get to boast and explain all about how you're trying to make shit better in little ways. and who cares if it fails? Aren't you deserving of a little petty violence? when the last time you really didn't give a shit about seam Ripping and just went to town? don't you want to be able to yell at something with no moral consequences? so much in this world is complicated and nuanced and requires forethought and responsibility. Wouldn't it feel nice to have a hobby that lets you get reasonably angry at evil fabric for not doing the thing, and then you can just throw it and swear, and then never have to think about it again. because it doesn't matter. it was already cheep plastic made to feed a system that would rather watch the world burn than lose a shareholder. you eat credit cards a year. you can not hurt wasted disposable plastic more than it will hurt you.

and then if it works you have a cute top to wear around places to show you are the kind of person who has cool tops! and help you ease people into the idea that a political movements starts with people deciding what things they inherited they actually want to keep around. and then maybe one day you cut apart and re-make out of nice quality fabric, with the mistakes you learned from the first one. so you can weaponize your ability to present yourself as ""respectable"" when you have to play the politics game in big official ways.

or (imagine this) you can even use your new knowledge of what types of edits you often make to clothing to buy a quality garment that will be more worth investing in. Ones that are made in ways that add value to their communities will feel good on your body from day one, and you can be mened and adapt in ways that may let it outlive you.

or maybe you elevate that shity, guilt ridden- shirt out of the gym lost and found on the last day of freshman year, because "fuck it- I liked that middle-school library fit. and Its a size too small but I'm bound to get thinner eventually. and I don't think its actually stealing if no one else wants it." Maybe if you make it into a statement piece scrap in your favorite "look I'm not happy about it either!" outfit, to show that you want to fuck with the systems in a "hey we should still have A Library tho right?" sort of way. you might run into the middle school girl who gets to break the ice with a fellow "cool garment person" friend. and she gets to laugh about your shirt deadnaming her. and you get to apologize and offer to let her sign something over it. and now you are advertising the formative art of a local queer-punk-artisan who you know is also out there trying her best to make the shitty stuff a little less shitty when they can, even if it means learning how to thread a sewing machine.... eventually.... hopefully.

also, as a person who has spent about a decade trying to figure out ways to keep kids of all ages informed and prepared and enriched on a budget. "Tug of War turned tie-dye Party" would of been a smash hit, my queer and rural in the 90's type parents would have loved it. after growing up with Halloweens filled with pieced-together costumes that made room for sensory issues and accessibility aids. and family "vacations" taken on public land with what's left of the food stamps. i think there is definitely a market for how to teach your children the fundamentals of serving in a world that might find their misery profitable. without like... terrafing them.

imagine how much easier alot of it would have been if someone early in your life had sat you down and said "ok. a lot of times things are going to be bad and unfair and evil. and there's going to be complicated reasons you cant do much about it but feel bad. but if you feel bad all the time it will only get worse. so what you can do is take what is around you, figure out what it is and how it works and why it's there, and then break it in ways that are meaningful and delibrite. and re-shape it to help the actual people who are trying survive."

then they showed you and all of your little friends how to research, what fabric is and understand why you bought supplies, and then get their hands dirty testing how strong it is, and why jeans have rivets even when you want to sew right there. and re-asure them that it's ok you paved the way to make sure they can't hurt anything too bad even if they are really really bad at it. and then let them find joy and pride in making something unique and custom with their own tools for the cost of cleaning out a closet, and some rite dye.

and then the community has a couple new little baby punks making decent folks smile with little bold fashion statements, and turning heads when they experiment with which parts of society they want to bring into the new age. tl;dr: I think we need to start telling the “I’m too poor to dress punk” crowd that they’re posers. -polyamorouspunk, November 2024, tumbr.com

I think we need to start telling the “I’m too poor to dress punk” crowd that they’re posers.

[sluglore]

Explaining The Iterator's Purpose (And Why They Weren't Made to Circumvent The Echoes)

Alright, I know there's already been a few posts like this out there, like this older one from @halvedforest, and this recent one from @noizepushr, which are both good posts, but I've been meaning to touch up and cross-post my own older misconceptions post from reddit for a while now, and provide a deeper, more expanded analysis as to why this misconception exists and explain what's actually going on, so here it finally is haha I'll also be using the term 'Benefactor' instead of 'Ancient', if people are confused about that, I intend to make a post about it eventually ^^

( If you're confused on who out there even believes this, this idea originated from Rain World YouTube lore videos, long before Downpour was ever a thing! It is unfortunately still quite prominent on there... but it's definitely getting better :3 )

This misconception stems from misreading the singular pearl to ever mention the echoes, being the Bright Red farm arrays pearl, so let me begin by attaching the specific section below:

“There were some horror stories though... That if your ego was big enough, not even the Void Fluid could entirely cross you out, and a faint echo of your pompousness would grandiosely haunt the premises forever. So even when the Void Fluid baths became cheaper, some would still starve and drink the bitter tea.” (Bright red Farm Arrays pearl dialogue)

Note the specific usage of “some” here. Echoes weren't presented as an issue significant to re-center Benefactor society around, (let alone build the iterators for) but as some horror stories which only "some" people (likely on the fringes of society) would believe in. Nowhere are we given anything that alludes to the existence of Echoes being regarded as a societal problem to address, much less have anything to do with the Iterators.

Additionally, although we know for a fact that echoes do exist, its fairly possible that most of Benefactor society didn't, as LTTM doesn't even know what they are either, regarding them as nothing more than superstition. On the very next line, LTTM confirms that the void baths continued all the same, while again mentioning that "some" would still choose to abstain from them, and drink the bitter tea.

Then what’s the purpose of the iterators if they weren't created to circumvent the echoes? What is The Big Problem that they are even trying to solve in the first place? Well, both FP, LTTM, and the Exterior colored pearl dialogue spell the answer out for you. In fact, it's the first thing FP even tells you!

“The good news first. In a way, I am what you are searching for. Me and my kind have as our purpose to solve that very oscillating claustrophobia in the chests of you and countless others. A strange charity - you the unknowing recipient, I the reluctant gift. The noble benefactors? Gone.” (Five Pebbles dialogue to Survivor) (Monk's version also hits similar notes)

Five pebbles introduces himself as a “reluctant gift," with his purpose being "to solve that very oscillating claustrophobia in the chests of you and countless others," meaning to solve the cycles for everyone and everything else.

If you bring Looks to the Moon a neuron, she has the chance to repeat the same exact explanation to you.

"We were supposed to help everyone, you know. Everything. That was our purpose: a great gift to the lesser beings of the world. When facing our inability to do so, we all reacted differently. Many with madness.”

FP, LTTM, and the rest of their kind were created to serve the rest of the world in finding a method of total mass ascension, of ending the cycle entirely for everyone.... and everything. Not only including the fauna of the world, like the slugcat, but the bedrock, microbes and even gases, as explicitly stated in this snippet from the Exterior pearl dialogue below:

“The Moral Argument: Five Pebbles is our Creation, and we have Parental Obligations towards him. As an Iterator, he is also a Gift of Charity from Us to The World (unable to reach Enlightenment by itself - being composed mostly of Rock, Gas, dull witted Bugs and Microbes - and towards which We thus have Obligations)” (Pale Green Exterior pearl dialogue)

Here we have the Benefactors define it very clearly, that as an iterator, Five Pebbles is a "Gift of Charity from Us to The World." It's important to note that many misinterpret the next section in parentheses as being about FP himself, but if it were, it would be the only time FP is ever referred to as “it”. What's really being described is the world, “unable to reach enlightenment by itself, being composed mostly of rock, gas, dull witted bugs and microbes” The world is unable to reach Enlightenment on it's own and therefore, that's why the iterators were created. (Also- when you think about it, the description of "being composed of rock, gas, and dull witted microbes" doesn't even really fit FP's description lol)

Quick but necessary tangent, the concept of non-living things being apart of the cycle is a little confusing, and tricky to quickly answer without going deep into cycle lore discussion, (I have an entire post in drafts dedicated to clearing this up) but it's actually incredibly important for understanding what The Great Problem is! To shed some light, it's not that non-living matter are able to somehow comprehend the cycles, but that the entire physical world itself is actually an intrinsic part of the cycles.

If you leave a stone on the ground, and come back some time later, it's covered in dust. This happens everywhere, and over several lifetimes of creatures such as you, the ground slowly builds upwards. So why doesn't the ground collide with the sky? Because far down, under the very very old layers of the earth, the rock is being dissolved or removed. The entity which does this is known as the Void Sea. If you drill far enough into the earth you begin encountering a substance called Void Fluid. The deeper you go, the less rock and more Void Fluid. It's believed that there is a point where the rock completely gives way - below that would be the Void Sea. When that stone you placed on the ground has finally done its time in the sediments, it meets the Void Fluid and is dissolved, leaving the physical world. (Teal Subterranean pearl dialogue)

There's a reason that 'Cycles' is always plural in Rain World, because there's multiple of them! Organic life is in cycles, the physical bedrock of the world is in cycles, even the very concept of civilization is in cycles. In order to ascend everything, that means ascending not only all living things, but the entire physical universe itself! That's what the Great Problem really is :D (Also technicallyyy it's only ever referred to as "the big problem" and not "the great problem", the latter term stems entirely from the community but it's whatever i just wanted to quickly mention that. great problem definitely sounds cooler LOL)

In conclusion, Iterators are described as "Gifts to the World" not once, not twice, but three entire times throughout base game Rain World's dialogue, one from FP, one from LTTM, and one from the Benefactors. Rain World lore holds many unanswered, purposefully ambiguous questions, but the Iterator's purpose is not one of them!

If you're confused/interested in analysis of the Benefactor's motivations and perspectives on Ascension, I made a post a little while back containing my thoughts right here :)

[starry-pierrot]

So I'm not one to usually come up with AU's let alone actually do anything with them, I work better with short stories and honestly I want to spend my time making my own ideas yet i fail to do that lmao

But an idea hit me. So Khan is an absent father right? Well what if he was actually over protective, like to a more grief ridden amount? Explanation under the cut!

Nori asking him as her final words to protect their daughter and he decides the colony isn't safe for her. But when he worked under humans he remembered another much smaller bunker, so he takes Uzi to the place and fixes it up. But...he puts her in a clear container. Or in this case 'These glass bullet proof doors will protect you!' sort of deal, idk I don't know how he'd do it or anything this all just jumbled into my head with no details. Anyway Uzi grows up with just her Dad and it honestly gets to her and pisses her off, she had no chance to make friends, she's alone here with just her Dad and her mom is gone. She misses Doll. But the bunker does have the one thing she hasn't seen in years, sunlight. Somehow her father missed the little beam of sun through a vent and every morning when he sleeps she stays up just a little longer just to look at it. Cue said Murder Drone cinnamon roll finding said weakness during a bad storm and finding Uzi. Her dad had been on a supply run, he's still in contact with the other bunker but refuses to stay with them. Yeva has taken over as leader and Khan refuses to tell her what happened to Uzi beyond 'She's fine! I'm keeping her safe!'. If she didn't have to run the Bunker she would go look herself, Doll on the other hand has a lot of time. ANyway-Uzi freaks out, N is curious about why she's trapped behind the glass and they of course become friends with N visiting on her dad's supply runs. He finds a packet of markers that surprisingly still work and with Uzi's own the two are drawing and coloring all over the clear container. Course she asks him to take her to the surface and he does much to the dismay of her father who tried to stop her and N but chaos and blah blah they get outside with Uzi now sporting her haircut from the show. I know from there it would sorta be canon compliant with the added bonus of V and J getting a new roommate that N has to smooth over with them, it would mostly follow the events while bringing back Doll's family. Tessa might be real Tessa. Love her. Probably continues on the camp episode right after the escape. Haven't decided if Nori told Khan about her solver and that Uzi might have it, sure with Nori she could handle it but with just him it would be hard to make sure she doesn't go feral. Might be a more concrete reason to lock her away. I don't know what I would call this, if I'm gonna continue working on it or what it will actually be. I could maybe write some one shots on it if I'm in the mood but if enough people like it I could try making a basic timeline? We'll see. And yes that one pic is a reference to draw with me.

[julymusings]

Jason Todd x South Asian!Reader HCs

requested | reader is fem, i tried to keep it non-specific so it applies to the whole region, not just india, hopefully i succeeded😬

i looooved writing this it was so much fun. drop an ask with anything else you want to see!!

When you show him Bollywood movies, at first he’s like “Why are these so damn long?” But watches them anyway because you’re so excited to show him

He obviously sobs at K3G (because he has daddy AND big brother issues)

But his favorite is probably 3 Idiots or Bhaag Milkha Bhaag (he just seems like the type to looove an underdog story am I right)

Since Jason likes cooking, he’s learning how to make all your favorite foods. He’s eaten a lot of Indian food before (duh, it’s New Jersey), so he’s familiar with the flavors and spices, but some dishes are easier than others. He tries to make dosa after you mentioned liking it but it does not go well

He’s trying so hard to impress you but they all keep breaking😭 and the ones that don’t break come out burnt. When he finally relents and lets you help him, you hold his hand and guide him to make the proper movements; pouring the batter, spreading it into a circle, and gently flipping it so it doesn’t break

He loves chai, and is always experimenting with different recipes and flavors and asking you to test them

You're taking him to the Indian market so often, by the end of the month he knows the names for all the vegetables and spices in your language and where to find them

He thinks you with mehendi/henna is the most attractive thing ever

Your friend’s getting married? Of course he’ll feed you while your mehendi’s drying, you don't even have to ask

When it's still fresh and at its darkest color he's actually going batshit insane (pun intended); he loves interlacing your fingers together and seeing the contrast of your dark, decorated fingers against his large, strong ones. His phone background is a selfie of you guys where your faces are squished side-by-side and one of your mehendi'd hands is cupping his cheek

And when you're on top of him, the sight of your adorned hands pressed flat against his bare chest, flushed and heaving...he thinks it belongs in a museum

He just loves doing little acts of service; one day you’re complaining offhandedly to him about how the price of eyebrow threading keeps going up, a week later you’ve forgotten all about it but he’s like “I learned how to thread your eyebrows”

He figured it would be easy enough, and as someone who’s life often depends on steady, surgical aim and precision, it is

Roy’s walking around looking messed up as fuck for a couple weeks but that’s beside the point because he’s got the hang of it now 

When it comes to putting on a sari, he'll put the pins in the hard to reach places if you ask, but for the most part he just loves watching you put it on. he thinks it's so cute the way you scrunch your face in focus as you make the folds and tuck in the fabric with such concentration (Jason Todd domesticity agenda)

One night you're getting dressed up for some party, but no matter what you do and how many times you take it off and try to re-drape it, it just won't come out good and you get so frustrated and teary-eyed that he has to intervene

He makes you take a break, brings you a snack, and kisses you until you feel better, and then he pulls up a youtube video to do it for you— but he can't do it either😭

So you both decide to give up and you wear a lehenga instead

It’s a fairly modest one, and even though he's seen you wearing more-revealing clothes (and none at all), he's going crazy over that one inch sliver of exposed skin on your midriff

He already loves seeing you dressed up in traditional wear but if you put jasmine flowers in your hair with it??? The fragrance coming from you makes him feral. It lingers in your hair for a couple days and he can’t stop following you around and sniffing you LMAO

The first time you get a kurta for him, it’s actually impossible to find one that fits because he’s so big and buff (drool) so you just end up buying the fabric and getting it custom stitched

There's only a few scraps of the fabric left and you get the wonderful idea of braiding the scraps into a bracelet so you have something to match with him and it makes him go crazy

Early on in your relationship, you’re a little afraid to have oil in your hair in front of him because you’re worried he’ll think the smell is too strong

Jason is probably familiar with the practice of hair oiling from his time with Talia (but you don’t know that yet)

He actually LOVES when you oil your hair around him. Just something about him being the only one who gets to see you when you’re comfy and unready is so intimate to him and makes him feel so special and trusted and loved🥹

Time for some of my physical touch x touch starved!Jason propaganda

After a particularly difficult night of patrolling, he comes to you stressed and anxious and unsure what to do with himself. So you make him sit on the floor in front of your bed, warm up some of the oil, and seat yourself on the edge of the mattress. He leans back against your legs and you massage the warm oil into his scalp. It feels heavenly. You’re using the perfect amount of pressure, hitting all the right spots, and it feels so good he wants to cry. Later, when you pull him into the shower to shampoo it out, he actually does cry, hoping the water falling from the shower head hides the tears (it doesn’t, and it breaks your heart)

(If you were raised Hindu) I think he'd be very interested in the belief in reincarnation, past & future lives, oneness with the universe, etc...it might help him make some sense of his coming back

You bring mediation into his life, and that also really helps him

You wear Kajal/kohl/surma on your eyes, and whenever he’s looking especially good, or before he goes out as red hood, you smudge some onto your finger and put a mark behind his ear, just to be safe (it’s believed to deflect jealousy/bad intentions from others) (yes I’m superstitious sue me)

Or you just tie a black thread around his ankle

When you first explain to him that you want him to wear a black thread around his ankle because of a superstition, he thinks you’re joking. He can’t believe you actually believe in that 

But he can’t say no to you and he secretly likes that you also have one so it feels like you’re matching 

He considers it a good luck charm, not because he believes the superstition but because it’s from you

omg thank you for all the love on these<3 dick's will be posted tomorrow

update: read dick's hcs here !

[yoonmetogether]

Part 1 – Play Nice

pairing: bodyguard!Yoongi x CEO!fem reader - brother/mob boss!Jin, brother/mob boss!Jungkook

genre: mafia, e2l, sloooooow burn, age gap

summary: As you and your brothers finalize the plans for the next chapter in the family business, you end up discovering things that you didn't expect. And upon meeting the man assigned to guard your life, you think the universe must really have it out for you. And you don't like it. Not one bit.

warnings: angst, arranged marriage, drug addiction/rehab, family drama, parental loss, age gap, alcohol, smoking, mentions of speed racing, crime, drugs and weapons trading, night terrors, ptsd, guns, reader has a knife (and an attitude)

minors pls dni

wc: 19k buckle up, folks!!!

teaser l prologue l part i. play nice I interlude: strangers l part ii. I

You make a mocking face at your phone, specifically the social media app that shoves pictures in your face of your university friends opening up their architecture firm that you were meant to be a part of. Good for them, you think sourly to yourself. You would be happier if you were there with them, before your dreams and plans to settle down in one place were foiled.

It’s been almost a year since they were, right before you finished up your second to last semester of grad school when your brother called to tell you that your father had died.

Your father, who never looked you in the eye. Your father, who you spent too much of your childhood vying for his attention, especially as a teenager, around the time he started to pay more attention to Jungkook. Like when you purposely flunked classes, hoping he’d care enough to yell at you to do better, only for Jin to show up to teacher meetings in sunglasses and a mask but the disappointment wasn’t hidden underneath. Or when you went around shoplifting with your friends and got caught by mall security, wishing he’d be the one to show up and get you out of trouble. But yet again, Jin came in another disguise, and the disappointment was the same. He knew what you were doing, but didn’t have the heart to tell you it wasn’t worth it, because your father would never care. He barely acknowledged your existence.

So, at the news of his passing, you felt nothing. That was until you realized that it meant everything would fall on your brothers’ shoulders. And suddenly, you became a part of the very thing Jin worked so hard to keep you away from. Your duty and prospects became that of carrying out your father’s legacy. Before you knew it, you were set to be engaged to the son of a casino owner, so that you would take over the casino in the city your brothers ran, streets filled with crime and money fueled by Crow blood.

Kim blood. Dirty blood. Your blood. 

Over the summer, you finished up your last semester, rushed through six classes in order to complete all of your credits. You honestly don’t know how you pulled it off. Three weeks before you were scheduled to graduate, Jin called, bearing the bad news that Jungkook had relapsed and was back in rehab, so you needed to come home right away. You didn’t get to walk the stage. And you certainly couldn’t give the school an address to send your diploma to. So everything was lost in the wind.

Jungkook was still in rehab by the time you got a ring shoved on your finger. None of your friends know about the engagement. Granted, none of them can even be invited to the wedding. You can’t even tell them where you’re living now.

You probably will never speak to them again.

Locking your phone and dropping it in your lap, you sigh dramatically as you look out the window at the cloudy weather, the rain that pours on the windshield, the thunder that rumbles from above. It’s been cloudy a lot lately. Or maybe the gloom that’s been sitting in your chest ever since you got married has made everything around you seem dull and gray. Even your house is decorated without color, thanks to your minimalist husband who has no taste for style. He thinks as long as things are expensive, they’re worth having even if it’s all fucking ugly. Your husband didn’t care for your opinion when he picked out the house and furniture, despite the fact that you just graduated with a minor in architecture.

You’re just glad he picked a spot in the woods, right outside of the city.

You’ve always had a talent for decorating, handing it off to the fact that you’ve moved so many times throughout your life, having to buy new furniture since you couldn’t drag it everywhere you went. You became the queen of thrifting. As long as you had your keyboard, favorite posters and plushies, you were good. You took care to make your place your home, a reflection of you and your interests in order to keep you grounded, help you feel like you belonged somewhere, even though you never stayed in one place for too long. Jin preferred it that way, felt it was safer. But it meant you couldn’t have normal friendships or relationships because they wouldn’t keep in touch if you dropped out halfway through the year to transfer to a university in an entirely different place, sometimes a country. It was very destabilizing, and it made things equally lonely, and your brother tried to make up for it by wiring you substantial amounts of money for you to use freely, but responsibly.

You never touched that money. Because how could you as a college student, who worked part-time, low wage jobs, explain the luxuries that your brother’s money could afford? The money that could pay for a few hundred thousand parking lots of the most expensive and rare cars, at least five cities worth of houses, maybe even feed a small country, much less your tuition and rent. No, you would get by on your own. Sometimes you found yourself at a poker table, often dabbling in an underground gambling ring because that’s where you could make the most of your money. (You couldn’t bring yourself to go to a casino. It would make you think of Jungkook and how much he was struggling). Who would expect a young girl who looked like she got lost on her way to a club to be any good at placing bets? It’s not your fault you grew up around brothers and friends who taught you how to play cards, molding you to have phenomenal skills in seeing through people and their tells, that they gave themselves away through their eyes. You learned how to pull off the perfect poker face, faking being naive and innocent, got them to fall in your trap and leaving them in shock when you walked away with fat wads of cash in your pocket. You guess that made you a hypocrite.

But there were times when you ran out of money and had to choose between paying a light bill or buying groceries, and you found yourself considering withdrawing from those offshore bank accounts, but you knew once you started, you wouldn’t stop. So, you would end up eating the best meals of your life in a dark and cold apartment, sitting alone with the guilt of knowing your brothers would be hurt to think you were ashamed of them.

That guilt still lingers, especially now that you’re riding in a tinted SUV, lavish seats and custom interiors, materials and technology not found in cars of the average citizen. You're well out of the bounds of average by now. You don’t feel like you belong even though your brothers are in the exact same boat.

“Is everything alright?” Mr. Han asks from the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, just..." you sigh, each breath you take doing the opposite of calming the anxiety racing in your veins. "I was supposed to be managing this architecture firm with my uni friends by now, working on biophilic design that connects spaces with nature and all that.”

You hope you're hiding your bitterness better than you think, remembering how excited you’d been to finally do something you were passionate about and how quickly the ball was dropped on that.

"That sounds interesting. Maybe you can incorporate some of that at the casino when you’re doing the renovations."

"Mm. But I don't know if my future father-in-law would be down to have a bunch of plants all over the place." Mr. Han laughs. "Well, if you're the one in charge once you’re married, I don't see why not."

You smile, grateful for his support, but you know as a female CEO among a board of directors and investors that are majority men, you will only get so much leeway. But you'll have to make do with what you have. You’re an expert at this point.

"You've done a good thing by coming back to your brothers now that things are complicated." "I just... I don’t know if I can do it. Y’know. The other part."

That part being the real reason you're getting involved at the Stay Gold casino: to take care of business that belongs to your family. Not just supervising the renovations, or overseeing the slot games, blackjack and roulette tables, but keeping a tight chokehold on the money that flows in and out of all that gambling. Money that serves as a front to what you'll be taking care of behind the scenes. Essentially, you'll be a loan shark. And that's what's been keeping you up at night, knowing what comes with ensuring certain associates make their payments in timely fashions, especially if they're buying protection. At least you’ll be putting your business degree to use. "You are just as smart and tough as your brothers, if not more. You'll be able to handle it, I have no doubts, Miss Jeon."

But I’m not like them, is what you want to say, but shouldn’t because it would be a lie.

"Thanks, Mr. Han. And you know you can call me Angel.”

"Of course. I'm always here if you need anything."

And you know he means it but it's a small comfort. Mr. Han has been your brothers’ driver for as long as you can remember, always so kind and considerate, making you wonder how a man like him ended up in a job like this. When you found out you were going to have to be chauffeured around, you weren’t exactly ecstatic because you love to drive, love the freedom that comes with it, but you figured with Mr. Han, it wouldn’t be so bad.

The SUV drives through an underground tunnel, leading into a narrow road surrounded by a forest that takes you to the gated driveway of your brothers’ extravagant mansion. Mr. Han cracks open the window to speak with the armed guard who then waves to someone you can’t see and the iron-gates buzz open. The tires slowly rumble over the cobblestone, past the grand and meticulously landscaped lawn with many guards littering the property, up to the roundabout in front of the house where there's a tall, sharp-jawed, and suited guard waiting for you. Yeong, the (devastatingly handsome) man who’s been assigned to escort you whenever you show up to meet with your brothers. He opens the door and greets you politely as another guard appears from the back of the car. This one doesn’t say anything as you get out, and you’re glad because you’ve never seen him before and you don’t like interacting with any of your brothers’ men whom you haven’t met. You remind yourself and your constricting throat that these men work for your family, and you’re safer with them around than not. But still. You hate being followed and made to feel like you can’t go anywhere by yourself.

Before you can make it to the porch, your brother enthusiastically swings open one of the large double doors, quickly beckoning you in and shutting the door. As you step in and shuck off your shoes, you notice the indiscreet way he gives your outfit a onceover, like he’s never seen you in sweats before.

“Well, you didn’t have to get all dressed up just for us.” You glare at him, lifting your middle finger.

“Shut up, Jin. Just because you sleep in your suits.”

“That’s Jinnie to you,” he says through puckered lips, squishing your cheeks. “C’mere.”

He pulls you into a strong embrace that you weakly pretend to fight off.

“Missed ya, kiddo.” Taking your coat, he kisses the top of your head, and you mumble similar sentiments into his chest with a small smile that quickly turns into a scowl when he roughly rubs his knuckles into your hair.

You push him away and scurry towards the dining room, stomach growling at the wonderful smells emanating from the kitchen. If there’s one thing you’ve missed now that you’ve moved out (again), it’s Jin’s cooking. Your brothers too of course, but that’s a given.

Jungkook is there sitting in his spot, to the left of the head of the table, already eating. It looks like today is one of his good days, and you find yourself smiling. He's eating his food and not just picking at it, the bags under his eyes aren't as prominent, and his hands are steadier than usual.

"Hey, loser. You couldn’t wait for me?" you say to Jungkook as you sit across from him. 

“You’re late,” he mumbles, mouth full of food, glancing at you as he chews. “Is that why you look like shit?”

“Funny, ‘cuz I dressed up like you today.” You stick your tongue out at his glare, becoming distracted when you notice something at the corner of his bottom lip.

“What is- oh that’s a stud. I thought it was a big ass zit.”

“Piss off.” He waves your hand away when you tease poking at the metal ball.

You live for bullying your brother, even though he’s two years older than you. He was pretty mean to you as a kid, so this is just payback. Sure you were annoying, but what are little sisters for? At the end of the day, you know he’s your ride or die, just like you are for him.

“It’s cute. What’s next, a tongue piercing?”

“I draw the line at tongue piercings,” Jin intervenes, calling out from the kitchen. Him and his supersonic hearing. You snicker and Jungkook just rolls his eyes.

“Any new tats?”

He shows you the additions to his full sleeve and you marvel over the designs that he created, asking the inspiration or story behind each one, always fascinated by his talent. You have a knack for drawing yourself - you wouldn’t have the passion for architecture without it - but it’s never been on the same level as Jungkook’s. Dude can paint museum-worthy landscapes and portraits within an hour. He’s annoying like that.

When you’re done examining his arm, you sit back in your chair, snatching a morsel of his food on the way and he grabs your wrist in an attempt to stop you but instead stares at your sleeve.

“Wait, this is my jersey,” he says, ignoring the way you fight to wrestle out of his grip. “I’ve been looking for this!”

“So what? It looks better on me.” You rip your arm away and you’re already halfway out of your chair just as your brother lunges over the table to grab at the jacket. You spring up and out of the dining room, a shrill laugh escaping when you look back to see Jungkook dashing after you.

You may have grown up with him, done taekwondo and thrown loads of rounds in boxing gloves with him, even gotten him into a headlock once or twice, but now he’s built like a bus, and he could bulldoze you down in two seconds flat with no regrets. And it makes you want to scream your head off. 

Sprinting into the living room, you clamber over the back of the couch, knowing Jin would kill you if he saw you with both feet on the cushions, but you’re much more worried about Jungkook closing in on you.

“Go away!” you shriek when he leaps over the couch with ease, like he’s a damn gold medalist in Living Room Olympics.

“Give me my jacket!”

“I’ve had this for like three months, how are you just now missing it?” You point out as you attempt to use the coffee table as a barricade.

“I told you to stop stealing my clothes.”

“It’s only because you have such a cool style.”

He pauses to look at you like he won’t fall for your bullshit compliment. You take this lapse as an opportunity to make a run for it into the kitchen where Jin is filling a carafe of water with fresh-cut berries, rushing to hide behind him at the counter like you used to do as a kid. Jin acts unbothered, barely noticing the way you’re gripping the back of his sweater like a lifeline, only looking over his shoulder when you make a noise as Jungkook jogs towards you.

“Cheater.”

"Yah, come on, you two," Jin admonishes as Jungkook tries to grab you, making you hurry to Jin’s right, grabbing his bicep as if his big guns will protect you.

"He started it."

"Did not!" Jungkook exclaims, and you childishly stick your tongue out at him. 

“Give your brother his jacket,” Jin says in a parental tone. “But I like it.” Turning around, your oldest brother levels you with a look that mirrors the one Jungkook gave you a few minutes ago and you know not to argue anymore, begrudgingly shrugging off the jersey and throwing it at your brother who catches it with a victorious smile.

“Come on, kids, let’s go eat,” Jin says as he picks up the carafe and three glasses.

Both hands on your back, Jungkook pushes you and you stumble forward.

“Ow, don’t push me. Jinnie!”

“Big baby," Jungkook mumbles through his teeth.

“Big bitch," you fire back.

Jin clicks his tongue and mutters something under his breath, something about how is it that he has two siblings in their mid-20s who still act like children. And it is pretty interesting, considering you and Jungkook are about to assume control of the fucking mafia. But it’s been years since you’ve played around with your brother, and now that he’s about to take over for Jin, who knows if you’ll ever be able to do this again. The thought creates a bit of a hole in your heart, like digging a grave for something that isn’t gone yet.

Once Jin turns his back, leading the way into the dining room, you and Jungkook exchange various gestures that all silently mean “fuck you.” Jin shoots a knowing glare over his shoulder that makes you both hide your offensive hands behind your backs, forcing yourselves not to laugh.

“Are you two ever going to grow up?”

“No,” you both answer simultaneously. Jin huffs and looks between you two with a shake of his head.

“Sit down and eat before the food that I put my blood, sweat, and tears into gets cold.”

You and Jungkook share an eyeroll at Jin’s drama, digging in so he won’t try some dramatic monologue about cooking.

"So, how are you doing?" Jin asks you a few minutes into the meal. "Fine," you shrug, too focused on the food to give a more complex answer.

"You’re all settled in at the house?"

“Mhmm,” you hum indifferently, feeling your appetite slowly start to slip away. You were hoping you could have a nice, normal night with your brothers, pretending that you aren’t dreading going back to the house, to a fiancé you know next to nothing about and all of the work and unpacked boxes you have waiting in your wing of that big ass, bland ass house.

“How are you two getting along?” Internally sighing, your shoulders deflate.

“He’s not horrible, I guess. But he’s just… I don’t know. Boring. And lame. He thinks his tattoos make him look cool.” You glance at Jungkook and gesture to his sleeve.

“Which is something the two of you have in common.” Jungkook’s lip curls and he points his chopsticks at you and flinches. You blow him a kiss in return that you change to a middle finger.

“He also acts like he’s never been to the grocery store. And I very seriously doubt he can tie his own shoes. His butler does pretty much everything for him.” Just the word ‘butler’ makes you want to throw up, not to mention the fact that you’re about to marry a guy who needs one.

“But things are going okay?” Jin asks just as you shove more food in your mouth. Can’t a girl just eat?

“What is this, twenty questions?”

“I’m just checking in.”

“Okay, but can we not do this right now? Please.” You ignore the way your brothers share a look.

“If things aren’t going well, you need to tell us.”

“Things are going as well as they can for an arranged marriage. We might live on opposite ends of the house, but we’re cordial. You’re not really expecting me to actually like this whole situation, right?” Jin regards you carefully.

“No, but you do need to make sure it all works out.”

Suddenly, you've completely lost your appetite. You scowl and drop your silverware, sitting back in your chair with your arms crossed, refusing to look at them both staring at you.

“God, Jin. I agreed to marry him, didn’t I? Picked up my entire fucking life to come back here and help out even though you promised-” You point harshly at Jin who looks at you with a small frown as his fingers rub on the edge of a napkin. You know it’s not his fault but damn, it hurts that he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“That I would never have to do that. What more do you want? An heir or something?”

They both wince. “No, of course not.”

“Then lay off my ass about it. I’m fine, okay? Don’t be a helicopter.” “Honey, I just want to make sure he’s treating you right.”

“What does it matter? I’m stuck with him either way. Besides, I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can. I’m only-” But you don’t want to hear anymore. With a grimace, you pick up your plate of unfinished food, scoot back your chair and stand up to head into the kitchen.

Jin leans forward with a heavy sigh, steepling his fingers, resting his forehead against them and closing his eyes.

"Way to go, hyung," you hear Jungkook mumble as you storm out of the dining room.

Stewing, you put away your leftovers and start to clean up the counters, knowing you’re the one being dramatic now but you can’t help it. This is supposed to be your safeplace, here with your brothers, especially since time with all three of you together is running out. Right now, you want to forget about all your responsibilities, all the things you have to step up to that you never imagined doing, and you wish your brothers would just go along with it. But they’re more realistic than you, it seems.

You hear dishes clink in the dining room, and soon you’re joined by your brothers, all silently working to clean up the kitchen. You pay no mind to their attempts at getting you to lighten up by nudging your shoulders, flicking water in your direction, and taking over the dish scrubbing, and it isn’t until Jin shoves a glass of sparkling cider in your hands just as you try to make an escape to the living room do you lose your resolve.

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Jin says as he and Jungkook corral you towards the couch.

You huff, fingers rolling on the stem of the glass, swirling the red content inside, and sit on the plush cushion, your brothers on either side of you.

“I’m not. Just- I can’t remember the last time all three of us have been in one place and I didn’t want to talk about any outside stuff. I just wanted to pretend that things are how they used to be. Because what if-” A lump forms in your throat.

“What if this is actually the last time?” Jin reaches forward and grabs your hand, a serious line knitted through his eyebrows.

“It won’t be. I promise.” “You’ve always told us to never make promises.”

“Well, I made the rules so I can change them. I am going to come back,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but-”

“You know something’s starting right now? Okay, Ariel,” Jungkook cuts in, grinning when you snort and Jin shoots him a scowl, leaning over to roughly ruffle his hair. You laugh at Jungkook’s dirty look when he thinks Jin just messed up his hair and Jin tries to fix it but ends up making it worse and a small hand-slapping fight ensues. This is what you’ll miss. This dynamic, where no matter how hard you all try, you can never be serious.

“Do you think we can go on a trip?” you ask out of the blue, casted by a nostalgic wave longing for memories that make you feel normal.

“Y'know, to the cabin? Just for a couple of days.” Jin smiles, but it’s small. Jungkook doesn’t look at either of you.

Ever since you can remember, any spare time Jin had, he whisked you and Jungkook away to a cabin somewhere in the mountains, never going to the same spot twice. You waited for the days that Jin would show up at the boarding school, make up some excuse to get you both out and drive up to a cabin where he would let you both run wild. In the woods was where you learned how to ride your bike and climb a tree, legs swinging from a branch with Jin standing underneath you, arms held out like you’d fall any second. You were too busy yelling at Jungkook to stop throwing sticks and leaves at you from a few branches above. A cool summer sunset by a river was where you caught your first fish that Jungkook ended up chasing you around with for a good five minutes. You screamed at the top of your lungs, Jungkook cackled maniacally, and Jin did his best not to laugh, only grabbing the fish out of his brother’s hands once you began to run around him like a maypole. Later, you got your revenge by shoving the chopped fish head in his face after Jin started cooking. Jungkook cried all throughout dinner and, in your stubbornness, you refused to apologize so Jin made you hold hands for the remainder of the night until one of you caved.

As you got older and Jin got busier, he would allow you to make plans with your friends to go to a cabin in a discreet location, whether that was in the woods or by the beach. You loved your friends, but you always found yourself missing Jin, wishing he was there to cook and make lame dad jokes, play guitar by a fire he started and act out ridiculous stories until you and Jungkook were rolling on the ground with stomachs that ached from laughing so much.

It wasn’t until you were much older that you realized those trips to the cabin were the only times the three of you spent together where Jin wasn’t constantly looking over his shoulder. Sometimes though, he wouldn’t speak for a while, a blank yet morose energy surrounding him that he could only shake himself out of if you and Jungkook poked and prodded him enough. In the woods, he never wore a mask or sunglasses or a variety of hats like he did when he came to pick you up from school. Later down the line, Jungkook had to do that too and that’s when everything started to change. You could no longer see each other unless the location and meeting times were planned in advance, and there were always some men in suits, sunglasses, and dark coats with wires hanging out of their ears accompanying you.

A year after Jungkook graduated from secondary school was when things fell apart. Jin made you promise to never speak about either of them to anyone, and helped you come up with a pseudonym. By the time he shipped you off to study abroad once you started university, you never used your real name and neither did they. From then on, you only spoke to your brothers on the phone, one that you had to pick up at a convenience store and dispose of once you were done. The calls were typically short - Jin asking if you were doing well in school, if you ate enough, had enough money. You rarely spoke with Jungkook, as he spent a lot of time going in and out of rehab, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was learning the family business with Jin. You missed him, your partner in crime, and you wished you could take him with you, keep him away from your father so maybe he could have a chance at healing, but that wasn’t in the cards. Jin explained time and time again, that this was how things had to be. He may have raised both of you, been the reason you were alive and thriving, but he had no control over the circumstances at home. You couldn’t go back, he wouldn’t let you, and for a while, you thought you’d never see your brothers again.

(There was a time when you did go back, but they never knew about it. When you were feeling homesick, you took a ferry to Jeju to visit the beach where you spent a few summers with your brother and your friends. You spent a few days reminiscing about old times, old friends. It was nice to get away, to feel something familiar for a moment, hang on to memories that you would give anything to relive. But you don’t like to think about that trip anymore. And sometimes you wish you’d never gone back.)

Now you just want to go to the cabin to cling onto the past, of how things used to be, because you know nothing will ever again be the same.

"We can't, Angel. I'm sorry. I have to leave in a few days." And just like that, the wave crashes onto the shores of despair.

“What? You said you had until next month.” Your brothers share another look, another tell that they’ve been keeping you out of the loop of something.

“I do, but I think it’s best to leave earlier so it won’t be glaringly obvious that I got tipped on my arrest warrant.”

“Yeah, probably,” you agree dejectedly. “It was just hard not being home all this time, so I wanted us to hang out. I guess I like you guys or something. Weird, right?” “Totally. ‘Cause we hate you,” Jungkook teases. You scoff and grab a pillow to whack him with over Jin’s head. Jin laughs and lets you get in a few hits before tugging the throw out of your hand, whacking the side of your head, and tossing it on the other end of the couch out of reach.

Silence sits between you for a few moments until Jungkook stands, tugs you up on your feet, and shoves his phone into your hands.

He tries to teach you dance moves from Tik Tok trends, laughing a little too hard when you mess up, and Jin ultimately has to break up a small wrestling match. After you finish filming one video that will forever sit in drafts, Jin gets out the game console and wipes the floor with you and Jungkook on Super Mario. He brags loudly, enticing you both to tackle him, but despite your conjoined efforts, he somehow gets you and Jungkook into simultaneous headlocks, not letting go until you profess that he’s the unmatched master of Mario.

Jungkook then puts on his favorite movie, to which you and Jin stifle groans as you’re made to watch Iron Man for what has to be the millionth time. Jungkook just claps giddily when the Avengers theme song blares through the speakers and neither of you can deny this small happiness. It’s good to see him smile. But throughout the movie, you shoot him small glances out of your periphery when you notice him biting his nails and you know he’s zoned out, and that it’s not a good place where his mind wandered off to. You gently grab his hand and push it down, and he goes to cross his arms like he’s ashamed, but you keep hold of his hand, folding them together and resting them between you. Giving your hand a squeeze, he offers you a tiny smile and goes back to fully engage with the movie.

When the credits roll, you tease Jin for immediately yawning and stretching as he announces he’s turning in. You ask Jungkook if he’s up for a game of Overwatch that he starts up without a word and passes you a console.

After a few minutes of playing, Jin emerges from the kitchen with a couple bowls of snacks and bottles of your favorite drinks that he sets down in front of you on the carpet. You both thank him in unison without taking your attention off the game and he huffs an endeared laugh.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Jin murmurs from behind you both, ruffling your hair. “Crazy kids.”

“Night, grandpa,” you smirk, laughing when Jin pushes your head.

He goes upstairs and leaves you to play the game. But every now and then, you glance over to Jungkook, wanting to check in on him. It’s been a minute since you've had a one-on-one.

“You look like you’re doing good.”

“I’m trying,” he mumbles a bit stiffly, eyes unmoving from the screen, and you take in his tense expression.

“That’s all that matters, bro.” You lightly punch his bicep, and he playfully tips sideways. “You know you can talk to me anytime.”

“Yeah.” It doesn’t seem like he wants to, at least not about certain things, but you need him to know that of all the things that are changing, the fact that you’re his kid sister who he can lean on will stay the same.

“I wish I had been home more often,” you say tentatively. “I know Jin couldn’t always be around.”

He shrugs, nose scrunching. “S’alright, I wasn’t alone. D was there.”

You’ve heard about D. How he had Jungkook’s back in a jail fight a few years ago when Jungkook had a habit of lashing out and starting fights to prove he was tough. Which he was but that didn’t matter if he was outnumbered. When he was booked for a DUI (riding on his motorcycle half-drunk like a dummy) and forced to go through withdrawal, it increased his violent tendencies. After accusing a burly man twice his size for looking at him the wrong way, he found himself getting beat up on by three grown felons in the middle of the yard. He would’ve ended up with a cracked skull if it wasn’t for D. And from then on, he became your brother’s guardian angel of sorts and eventually began working for them.

“You’ll meet him tomorrow at dinner.” You hum, mildly disinterested.

Joy. Spending an evening with your brothers’ capos and guards is just how you wanted to enjoy your last weekend with the both of them. Not.

“And, um, we workout at the boxing club every Friday. Maybe you could join us.”

You look over at him incredulously. There was a time when your brother acted like you tagging along with his friends was a punishment worse than hell.

“You mean you want me to box with you?” He shrugs.

“Gotta make sure you can still fight.”

You roll your eyes. Of course you can still fight. You’ve just been able to get out of precarious situations before you had the need to throw hands. For the most part. That’s the difference between you and your brother - he goes looking for trouble while you do your best to avoid it. But neither of you will be backed into a corner and made to stay there. You won’t go down easy.

“So you down?”

“I won’t be getting in the way of boy time with D?” Smiling, he shakes his head.

“Nah. But you could stand to learn a thing or two from him; he’s a damn good fighter.”

“Better than you?”

“No one’s better than me,” he smirks.

“I guess I’ll have to see for myself.” He chuckles and fakes a slow punch on the side of your head.

“You still have that knife I gave you a few years ago?” You think for a moment. Right before you went abroad for college, Jungkook gave you the blade he carried with him everywhere, one that was sheathed in your favorite color and had a strap attached to it. You cherish it, but you’ve never had to use it. But you figure that’s about to change.

“Oh, yeah, it’s somewhere. I didn’t have a lot of time to really organize when I was packing. Why?”

“You should keep it on you from now on. Just in case.” 

“You mean you’re not gonna be around to protect me, big brother?” you tease. He shoots you a little smile but when his eyes focus back on the screen, you notice him squint and nibble on his bottom lip for a second. You can’t help the feeling that he’s keeping something to himself.

“Not always.” 

You frown. There was a small comfort in thinking that you could rely on him when for years you’ve been apart, but now as new circumstances arise, you don’t know if you’ll be able to see each other as much as you want to. Definitely not enough to make up for lost time.

Just as you’re about to tell him not to worry because you’re a big girl, more of an assurance to yourself, he clears his throat to change the subject again.

“D is really cool, I think you’ll like him.” You offer a mostly sincere smile, thinking to yourself that it sounds as if your brother is trying to sell you on D’s character. You don’t think you’ll care much for it, since he’s Jungkook’s security and all and you won’t be interacting with him much. But you’ll try if it means something to your brother.

“If he’s anything like you, then I doubt it.” His head snaps in your direction and in a fraction of a second, his arm hooks around your neck and pulls you into him, forcing your face into his shoulder so you can’t see a thing.

You fight your way out of his headlock, exclaiming when you notice that he’s beating your ass on the game, and lean on your elbow to press your foot on his cheek in an attempt to distract him, but he only laughs. You complain and cuss him out as he starts winning and reach over to wrestle the controller out of his hands. As you tussle loudly, Jin’s upstairs bedroom door opens and he calls down the hall,

“Keep it down! I need my beauty sleep!”

“You sure do!” Jungkook shouts back, sending you both in a fit of giggles when you hear his door slam shut loudly in response. You come to a truce, if only to save yourselves from facing a grumpy Jin in the morning.

You play and talk into the wee hours of the sunrise, until you slump next to each other and pass out, bellies full and faces covered with evidence of Jin’s snacks that you demolished.

The sky is a gray-blue hue when you’re stirred by your brother talking in his sleep and his incoherent mumbling makes you coo. But just as you go to cover him up with a blanket, he yells out nonsensically, leg kicking over a near empty bottle and sending the rest of the contents into the carpet. His arm shoots up into the air and panic begins to set in when he thrashes around on the floor. After getting the dishes and consoles out of the way, you run up the stairs to Jin’s room, barging in without knocking so you can quickly wake him up. Shaking his shoulder, you stutter out his name and he groans upon being disturbed.

“God, what-” “He’s having a night terror.” Without a second missed, Jin flings himself out of bed and races out of his room and down the stairs, with you following close behind.

Once back in the living room, Jin rushes to Jungkook’s side, who’s now flailing his limbs and shouting but still fast asleep. You watch as your oldest brother gets on his knees, not hesitating to grab Jungkook’s arms, pin them to his abdomen so he can pull him up and against his chest, all while calling his name to try and wake him. Jungkook’s eyes fly open with a gasp and his body reacts violently against Jin’s who almost ends up with an elbow in the chin. But Jin is an expert at handling Jungkook’s episodes, and he knows just what to do to keep them both safe while he gets him to calm down.

“Shh, bunny,” Jin hushes as Jungkook’s body fights him, rubbing his chest and shoulders to soothe. “It’s okay. I’m here, your sister’s here, you’re alright.”

There are visible tears streaming down your brother’s face and you have to sit on the step and cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from crying. It hurts so fucking bad to see him this way. It’s been years since the last time you’ve witnessed this, but you know he’s had many in between that Jin has been around for.

“Honey,” Jin calls to you softly above Jungkook’s sobs. “Go up to my bathroom and get out the lock box that’s under the sink. His medicine’s in there. Grab my wallet too, on the dresser.”

With a solemn nod, you stand and turn around as Jungkook slings an arm over Jin’s shoulder to hide in his neck, and your foot freezes mid-step when you hear him loudly wail again and Jin hushes him, rubs his back, and you hurry up the stairs again to grab what you hope will let Jungkook get some rest, some escape, some peace. You come back down with the lockbox and wallet to find Jin sitting on the couch, Jungkook curled up under a blanket with his head in Jin’s lap, chest heaving as he lays on his side. You approach them slowly, and Jin quietly instructs you to get out a small key from his wallet to open the lockbox, which carries Jungkook’s medicine that helps with his anxiety and parasomnia. You head into the kitchen to grab a glass of water while Jin encourages Jungkook to sit up and by the time you return, he seems to be breathing a little easier. After he drinks down a pill, he lays back down and you hope he’ll be able to sleep without another disruption.

You and Jin watch him for a few moments, and when it finally seems that he’s settled, you share a collective sigh of relief. But still, you’re worried. It scares you to see him that way.

“When was the last time this happened?” Jin looks so tired as he tries not to frown.

“More frequently now that you’re back home. Usually he does better when you’re around but. He feels bad that you’re doing this. He thinks if it weren’t for him and everything that happened, you could’ve stayed abroad and made a life for yourself.”

It’s true. You would never say it to their faces, but it is the truth.

“But… then I would never see you guys again.” Your throat tightens. 

“And now that you’re leaving,” you sniff, tears threatening to prick your waterline. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

In the dim light, Jin beckons you over, soft affection in his eyes, and you squeeze in between him and the end of the couch. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses the top of your head.

“You’re a good kid, honey. Even though I never wanted this for you, for either of you, I feel better knowing that you’re going to look out for each other.”

“Me too, Jinnie.”

He pats your arm and you sit quietly for a few minutes with your head on his shoulder, starting to feel sleepy again, safe and assured by Jin’s embrace. Jungkook is snoring now, the meds must’ve kicked in. He won’t talk about this in the morning, and neither of you will ask him to.

"And, about Jay,” your eyes blink open at his gentle tone. “I was thinking maybe what we can do is send him out on business trips so he's not around as much.”

You smile, arm curling around his thick bicep. “Thanks, Jinnie.”

“Just play nice, okay? It’ll all work out.”

You nod, too tired to let that potential burden add to your stress. Pretending to be completely fine with the engagement is the least of your worries right now.

The venue that Jin chose to host the small get-together of you and his men sits on the private top floor of one of the many skyscrapers he owns that you’ve had dreams of designing. Yeong walks at a comfortable distance behind you, quiet but gentlemanly. Stoic, which seems to be a uniform demeanor among your brothers’ men, one Jin expects you to replicate. You know that’s really your father’s expectation, but he’s gone. You would find it difficult to respect him anyway.

Striding into the dining hall, you pay no mind to all of his henchmen in the room, only giving focus to the one who stands out among them all, and not just because of his looming height and broad shoulders. Nor are you intimidated by the commandeering authority that follows him wherever he goes.

“Jin!” you call, making all heads turn to you but you act as if no one but your brother is here. He twists to face you with that shining smile of his that you know is reserved for a select few.

When you walk over to the table, air hazy with cigar smoke, liquor, and low conversation, you keep your expression polite despite the heat that spreads through you when all eyes fall on you. Yeong is close behind and reaches out for a chair once you approach the head of the table, greeting your brother who stands up from his proverbial throne to welcome you.

“Hey, sis. You look nice,” he says warmly, leaning in to welcome you into your seat and you smile, thanking Yeong who pushes in your chair once you sit. Just as you do, Jin leans in to whisper in your ear,

“You’ve got to get used to not using real names here, Angel.” Pulling away, you cringe and mouth your apology that he dismisses with a singular nod.

“Uh, where’s bro? He always gives me shit for being late.” Jin smiles as he sits back down.

“He’s on his way. He was at the gym with D.”

You nod and take a look around the room, noticing that you’re the only woman. Since your brother is here, you’re not worried, but it does feel suffocating. Is this how it’s always going to be from now on?

“How you doin’, Angel,” a deep voice says on your right, and your demeanor brightens when you glance over to see Namjoon pulling out the chair next to you.

“Oh, hey, Moon! Aren’t you sick of me by now?” You tease as he sits down, heart blipping at the beautiful smile on his face. You’ve been working with him these past couple of months, Namjoon preparing and training you for your role at the casino. Extremely intelligent and well-versed, he’s not your brother’s right-hand man for no reason. He knows all of the Crow’s business dealings like the back of his hand, and you feel confident having someone like him to guide you. That paired with his easy-going and wholesome persona, and the fact that you could chat with him about books and music for hours, you can’t deny your itty bitty crush on him. If only you weren’t engaged and he didn’t have a girlfriend. At least one of you is in a happy relationship.

“Of you? Never.” You ignore the mild warmth in your cheeks and playfully nudge him with your elbow. Damn him and his natural charisma.

“So, are you ready for next week?” Ugh. You don’t like the anchor of dread that sinks in your gut at the thought of finally becoming an official member of the family business.

“No,” you mumble because there’s no reason to lie to Namjoon.

“Oh, come on. Yes, you are.” Your palms start to sweat and you put the menu down so as to not ruin it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” you say quietly, stealing a glance at Jin to make sure he’s not listening, glad he’s too busy accepting a top-off on his drink.

“You have a mentor as amazing and smart as me, you’re more than ready.” You roll your eyes at his cheeky grin.

“You’ve been hanging around Jin too much,” you mutter and he laughs.

“Well, just know that no matter what, I’ll be right there with you so you don’t have to worry.” That fact makes you breathe a little easier, but there’s still a layer of anxiety underneath your skin. Just then, a slender, unfamiliar man walks in and heads straight for Jin who does a double take, immediately holding out a welcoming handshake that lingers a little too long once the man accepts.

“Who’s that?”

“Jung,” Namjoon answers with a single glance. You hold up your menu to hide your face as you whisper,

“Agent Jung?” He nods and turns his cheek to utter another reminder.

“Just be careful where you say that.”

Right. You never know who could be listening, so it’s probably not a good idea to mention the man’s real identity in all this. The CIA agent posing as an informant, but really he’s in cahoots with your brothers, covering up their dirty tracks with the occasional bribe of public officials.

“He goes by Hope, but close friends call him Hobi. You could probably get away with calling him that.”

“What’s he doing here?” You can’t help but watch closely the way your brother engages with Hope. His body language is rigid and fidgety, like he’s nervous, but his eyes are soft and wide. Small indications that there’s definitely something going on between the two of them and you’re excited to gossip about it with Jungkook. Because you know all too well how good Jin is at lying.

“Well, your brother wanted you both to be acquainted because the feds might take an interest in you once you take over the casino. He’ll come back to work undercover again if that happens.”

You still as realization takes over, muscles in your face hardening as your heart does a somersault.

“Is that the big secret?”

“What?”

“They’ve been keeping something from me.”

“Um, I’m- I don’t know,” he says in an uneven cadence, and, looking over at him, you notice a slight purse of his lips and realize he’s a terrible liar.

You just got here, but you already need a breather. The cigar smoke isn’t helping either, so you excuse yourself to the bathroom to get some fresh air.

As you rise, Yeong habitually appears next to you, but you place a soft hand on his shoulder, shaking your head to tell him it’s not necessary to escort you out. You internally scream when he looks over at your brother, as if needing his permission to let you go without accompaniment. Jin waves two fingers with a nod, silently dismissing Yeong’s duty and you try not to let that small interaction visibly bother you as you turn away from the table.

The bathroom is empty, thank god, but now you just feel isolated. Especially when you pull out your phone, eager to call up one of your friends and vent, but even if they might pick up despite being on another part of the hemisphere, there’s no way you could tell them anything.

You blink and a face you haven’t seen in a long time spawns in the forefront of your mind, heart sinking when you know he would be the one to call at a time like this but you haven’t spoken to him in years. Not since he had a falling out with your brother and left town shortly after without a word, cutting you deep because you thought you were more important to him than that. Even though it hurt, you understood why he left the way he did. You just sometimes wish he could’ve taken you with him.

With no one to call and nowhere else to go, you finish up in the bathroom with a deep breath and a practiced smile in the mirror, rolling your eyes at yourself and heading for the door with a huff at how fake you look. 

When you emerge, your attention is buried in your phone, and you end up bumping into someone in the hallway.

“Oh, sorry,” you blurt, feeling two hands hover on your shoulders when you stumble back from being caught off guard. You don’t look up right away, gauging from the black fitted suit and long trench coat that this is one of your brother’s men. 

“No, my fault,” he says and the gravelly timbre in his voice tickles a part of your brain. Normally you’re good at reading people, sometimes from just their aura, but there’s something about him that you can’t quite place. So you keep your head down.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

Ma’am? Yeah, he definitely works for your brothers. Everyone who knows who they are, calls them ‘boss’ or ‘sir’ and as their sister, you deserve the same title and respect that comes with it. Another thing you’ll have to get used to. But it still fills you with an odd feeling that you don’t really like, and you excuse yourself, not waiting for him to step out of the way so you can head back to the dining room. As you pass him, you catch the earthy musk of his cologne mixed with underlying traces of mint and something woody and it makes you involuntarily look over your shoulder to see what kind of man wears such a scent, only to find that he’s not there. He disappeared just as quietly as he’d approached.

Back in the room, you smile upon seeing Jungkook sitting to the right of your brother, and you can’t help but go up behind him, playfully smack the back of his head with your clutch, and sit beside him like nothing happened.

“You took my seat,” you say, feeling his glare on you.

“Children,” Jin grits through a smile just as Jungkook opens his mouth to argue. “Let’s not do this in front of company.”

Jungkook huffs in annoyance and opts to pinch your leg under the table, and you hold back a squeal, not daring to retaliate when Jin glares at the two of you over the brim of his glass.

As you turn your attention to the menu, you notice in your periphery Jungkook looking over his left shoulder, lifting his hand to someone behind him. When you look back as well, your heart palpitates at the sight of a tall, lithe man with black hair that reaches his neck, slicked behind his ears, and eyes hidden by tinted shades striding towards the table.

“Hey, D,” Jin says to the man as he steps up next to him. “Good to see you.”

So, this is the infamous D.

“Boss,” he acknowledges, and turns to Jungkook to tap his bicep with the back of his hand. “Sorry I brought him late.”

“No worries, you’re just in time to order. Take a seat.” D nods and you watch him slightly lift his chin over Jungkook’s head, no doubt taking a glance at you that lasts a mere second before moving to walk behind your brother and consequently you. Time seems to freeze as he starts to pass you, and although you can’t see his eyes, you feel them lock on you, and your heart does gymnastics before stopping completely.

No way. No fucking way. The man who stands above you can’t be the same man who you shared a night with, years ago. A night that creeps back into your memory after you think you’ve forgotten. And a face that haunts your dreams and makes you miss something you never really had. At least, not long enough to count for something.

As he passes, you catch the smell of the cologne that matches exactly to the scent of the man you bumped into in the hallway. Nausea creeps up from the pit of your stomach and you quickly look away, but to your absolute horror, your brother stops him in his tracks right beside you.

“Oh, D. Meet our sister, Angel.” On your right, he swivels on his heel and your breath catches in your throat when he tips towards you in a respectful bow.

“Good to meet you.” He holds out his hand to offer a kind greeting, but it only makes you sick. You swallow thickly, wanting nothing more than to ignore his offering, but you know you can’t purposely be rude, especially not in front of Jin. You have to be polite to him, no matter how much it might kill you, because you can’t let your brothers catch onto something that shouldn’t be there. And after years of playing poker, you’ve learned how to perfect hiding how you really feel. For the most part.

So, swallowing your rage, you muster the courage to turn in your seat to face him, plastering on the fakest smile you can manage and reach out to roughly grab his hand, breath catching in your lungs at the lightning you feel at his warm, soft but slightly calloused touch because you remember them so, so well.

Sometimes in your loneliest, darkest moments, you close your eyes and conjure up the memories of the way those hands once ran over every inch of your body, just like those lips, those eyes, and other parts of him that graced you and lit up your skin, sunk into your bones in a way that made you ache. And that ache lasted, in your heart, in your gut, in between your legs ever since that morning when you woke up expecting to see him next to you, only to find cold and empty sheets. Like he was never there. And you found yourself wishing you could rip out the ghost of his touch from beneath your skin, but it was practically etched into your soul, like it was meant to be there forever.

“Pleasure,” you say through a sickly-sweet smile, wishing you could see beyond his shades for any sign that he knows who you are, or if he’s just forgotten you. It has been three years after all. You catch a light, but noticeable scar slashed vertically on his right eye, partially hidden by his dark glasses. Your heart pangs when you don’t remember that being there the last time you saw him, but he hurt you, intensely, and now he’s acting like he doesn’t know you so fuck him. The sight of that scar compels you to look down at his hand clasped in yours and, in a flash, turn it sideways so you can see the diagonal scar that starts at his knuckles and ends by his wrist, which you do remember. You let go of his hand as if it scalded you and turn your attention back to the table, your mind and pulse racing at this feeling of yet another situation being out of your control. You want to tell your brothers right now about everything, get him off your back and out of your life, but knowing what consequences he would face stops you. He’s lucky Jungkook considers him a friend. Because otherwise, you’d have him thrown into the bottom of the Han river.

Jin calls for rounds of wine and whiskey as the group of men engage in small talk, and you appreciate your brothers who include you as much as possible. You hear conversations of Jin asking Namjoon how it’s going with your onboarding for the casino, and you do your best to contribute, but it’s hard to do it through the static going on in your head that you can’t quell, brought on by the man sitting across the table a few seats down, next to Hope who’s chatting his ear off. He has not looked your way once despite your many stolen and partially involuntary glances, only adding fire to the flame.

Two hours pass for everyone to finish off their meal, drinks, and conversation about work and other things that you tune out. Eventually, Jin starts to hint that he’s ready for the dinner to come to an end, and you sit quietly as he thanks his friends for coming. They all bid their goodbyes and most offer handshakes and arm taps as they wish him well. When they turn to go, Jin’s eyes linger on their backs until the next friend comes up.

As you wait for your brother to end the night for you as well, all who’s left is D, Namjoon and Hope, and they move closer to the head of the table once the rest of the room files out. A pit settles in your gut when D sits directly across from you. Those goddamn shades. You can’t even tell if he’s looking at you.

“Thank you all for staying after,” Jin says after he returns to his chair, knocking back the last of his drink. He gestures to the table. But you speak before he can continue, pretending to check your manicure when Jin looks over, so he doesn't catch the way you were just staring down the man across from you.

“Isn’t it rude to wear sunglasses inside?” You ask your brother. “I thought you were all about respect.”

Jungkook nudges you and whispers behind his hand, “Why are you being a dick?”

You don’t respond, acting as if you didn’t hear him. Because you can’t answer that. Jin sighs and there’s a subtle squint of his eyes at you before he gestures to the man beside him.

“D, if you wouldn’t mind.”

D says nothing (you want to scream that’s not his real name but you’re not sure if your brothers even know that) and raises his hands to remove the sunglasses, expression remaining blank. Once they’re folded and slipped into the inside pocket of his blazer, he finally lifts his bare gaze to you, scar on full display, and your heart slams in your chest. Because those eyes that seem to look right through you, are far too cold and vacant, void of everything that made you once believe you had a shot at something real.

“So, since you’re starting at the casino next week, I want to discuss security. I’m assigning you new detail.” You look at him with a puzzled expression. 

“What's wrong with the team there?”

“I'm talking about your personal guard." Your eyebrows furrow. So this is what your brothers have actually been hiding from you.

“Isn’t that Yeong’s job?”

“He doesn’t have enough experience to handle your protection around the clock.” “Around the clock? You’re joking.”

“I’m not."

You huff and cross your arms. “And if I don’t agree?”

“That’s not an option.”

“Fine. Who did you hire to basically stalk me?”

“D will take on as your guard and driver.”

Ha. Haha. This isn’t real. What kind of joke is the universe playing on you? And why are you the punchline?

You turn to Jungkook. “Isn’t he your security?”

“Yes,” Jin answers. “But since you’re going to be dealing with the public and crews and potential feds at the casino, D has the knowledge and experience to help with everything, so he’s being reassigned to you.”

How can it be this fucking coincidental for the man who dug a crack into your soul, filled it with light, and crushed it when he left with no warning become the new head of your security? Complete and utter bullshit.

"Angel,” Jin mutters, urging you to say something.

“Fuck this,” you spit, eyes darting to the man you speak of to see if your words affect him but when he doesn’t give anything away it only makes you angrier.

“I’m not doing it.” You stand up to head for the door, but your brother's loud, bellowing voice puts a halt to your escape.

“Yes, you are. This is not a game; you don’t have a choice.”

Your head spins. This is too much too fast. All of your control and independence is being ripped out right from under you, and you already feel weighed down by it. Seething, you glance between him and his men, and you don’t want it to look like you’re throwing a temper tantrum. You wonder if this is why your brothers chose to tell you here, in front of everyone, testing you to see if you’ll control yourself.

“I already can’t drive myself anymore, and your guards have to be up my ass when I come here. Yeong has to check in with you to make sure I’m allowed to go to the fucking bathroom alone, your dirty cop is gonna pretty much spy on me at work, and now you want this goon to follow me around everywhere?”

“Look, I know you don’t like this, but-” “No, I don’t.”

“But,” he continues sternly, glare on you growing harsher. “I don’t think you realize the calamity of the situation you’re about to be in and I have to take all the necessary precautions to ensure your safety.” “Meaning I have to be fucking babysat?” you spit with vitriol, and Jungkook puts a hand on your elbow in an attempt to pull you down a notch now that Jin’s expression is contorting into one that shows he will not entertain this conversation for much longer as your brother. Being the boss in front of you has never been something he wanted you to see, but right now you’re pushing the limits. You don’t care so you rip your arm out of Jungkook’s grip who resigns with a sigh while you keep your fiery stare on your oldest brother where there’s a likeness in his own.

“Don’t speak to me that way, Angel.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m a little kid, Jinnie,” you sneer, using his nickname un-endearingly. 

“I told you about not using real names,” he booms, fist falling on the table. You don’t flinch.

“You’re one of us now, you need to start acting like it. And you’re going to start by listening to what I say and showing some respect. Otherwise, we’ll have to have an entirely different conversation, and I really don’t want us to go there.”

You’re not sure what he means by that, but you’d be stupid to fuck around and find out.

“As a woman in this business, you are much more vulnerable and at risk and it’s my job to protect you. That’s just reality. So you need to have security in place, especially by tomorrow. Am I being clear?”

You grind your teeth. “Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I go home now?”

“I’m about to go over the plans for tomorrow. Sit down.”

“Please, I want to go home; I have a lot of things to do. You know I haven’t even unpacked everything yet? I’m practically sleeping in that office.”

You do your best to keep out any expletives, even though you have many to fire off, so you don’t show more disrespect, but your mild lack of control has you muttering under your breath, “No thanks to you.”

Beside you, Jungkook presses his hands together in front of his face like a prayer while Jin shakes his head, eyes closing, and rubs a hand over his forehead like you’re giving him a migraine.

“I’ll get you some help, I’ll get whatever you need. But right now, I need you to stay so we can talk everything out because shit is about to get real. Please sit down.”

You do so with extreme reluctance, the concoction of conflicted emotions swirling in your chest making it increasingly difficult to pay attention to any of what he says. As parts of your mind and body drift in and out of your subconscious, you’re startled out of a staring contest with the edge of the table by Jungkook nudging your shoulder. Relaxing your jaw that was painfully clenched, you lift your head to notice that all eyes are on you, minus one particular pair.

“Sorry, what?”

Jin sighs and gestures to the other side of the table. “Hope was asking if you’d be willing to meet with him in a couple of weeks to check if you have any problems to report.”

“Sure, whatever. I mean, I don’t have a choice either way, right?” you mutter, throwing your brother's words back in his face. You feel Jin’s eyes burning a hole in the side of your face and you know you’ll get an earful from him later.

You glance over to see Hope looking at you with a half-smile and there’s a bit of guilt at how you just came across. You really want to disappear.

“Is that all? May I be excused now?” you ask Jin tersely. He rubs a hand over his mouth like he’s preventing himself from further calling you out. Keeping his stare locked with yours, he raises a dismissive hand.

“D, can you escort her down to the garage? Mr. Han will drive her home.” You close your eyes in relief. “And exchange information on the way; you’ll be picking her up tomorrow evening.”

“Yes, boss.”

You turn around before he stands up, making a beeline for the door because you’re boiling up like a tea kettle. The room seems to be chasing you, closing in on you, like a hand around your throat that you can’t fight off. By the hairs raised on the back of your neck, you can tell he’s coming up behind you so you pick up the pace, jamming your finger into the down button on the elevator. You silently thank it when it only takes a few seconds to arrive, the one thing on your side tonight, so that you can step in before he reaches you. You rapidly press the close button, your eyes narrowed in the harshest glare at his face as he sticks out his hand but he’s too late, the doors rumble shut, sealing him out.

Alone in the elevator, there’s so much going through your mind that it hurts to think. So many emotions and feelings are swirling in your chest that you have no idea where to start to pick apart and process. All you know is that you want to get as far away from him as possible. How the tables have turned.

It’s freezing down in the garage, and Mr. Han has yet to arrive, much to your chagrin. The bubbling beneath the surface of your skin grows to a rage when you hear leather shoes pad onto the concrete.

“Angel-”

Oh, hell no! He doesn’t get to be casual. He doesn’t get to say your name. It’s not your real one, but it was real to him.

You twist around. “Don’t be informal."

Expression unchanged, he apologizes and corrects himself then steps forward with a hand held out, carrying your coat that you forgot upstairs.

You give it a side glance and snatch it away, tucking it under your crossed arms, because you prefer to be stubborn and cold. You refuse to face him, even when he clears his throat and takes another step towards you.

“Let me give you my number,” he says, reaching into his inside pocket to pull out his phone. An indignant laugh bubbles in your throat, too painful to let out.

Now… Now you get his number?? This is the universe laughing at you right in your face. You say nothing, not even acknowledging what he said, as if you didn’t hear him at all.

You just stare at the curb, desperately waiting for Mr. Han to pull up and take you away. In this moment, he’s your only friend in the world.

Seconds go by, and the man beside you reaches back into his jacket, trading his phone for… a pen? He then plucks out the white handkerchief folded neatly in his chest pocket, spreads it on his palm, and flicks the pen over it before passing it to you.

You stare at the handkerchief, at the numbers messily stained on the fabric, and crumple it in your hand, balling it into a tight fist.

Acting on autopilot with a question that’s been spinning around your mind since you shook his hand at dinner, you whip around to face him, faltering slightly when he’s closer than you realized. 

“Did you know?” you snap. “This whole time. Did you know about me?”

His face remains emotionless and even though he’s not wearing his shades, you can't see any kind of reaction in his eyes.

His adam’s apple bobs. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Oh. So he wants to play games. And he’s a fucking coward.

"Then let’s get one thing clear,” you grit, holding up your pointer finger. “If you think I'm gonna be nice to you, think again. And since you couldn’t give a shit about me, don't pretend to be nice to me either."

You get right in his face, but he doesn’t react or move away, and you wonder what it would take for him to stand down.

“Cross me in any way, I’ll tell my brothers who you really are.”

You stare, unblinkingly, in his eyes, searching, waiting for any sign that he’s the least bit intimidated by your threat. But there’s nothing. Just blank, soulless eyes. And to think they once set your heart on fire. Now they’ve turned it to ash.

How you ever fell for them, you’ll never know.

Clearly, you’re a fool.

“We’ll see how long you last, Min Yoongi.”

When you get home, you decline all calls from your brothers and march into your room, not bothering to change, and dig through all of your unpacked boxes searching for an old plastic bag containing a hoodie and a chain that you’ve been carrying around with you for years but you don’t know why. You find Jungkook’s knife, but not the bag and now you’re left with the aftermath of a tornado on your bedroom floor. You spend all night putting everything in its place until the sun rises and your mind is numb, anything to ignore the swarm of angry wasps buzzing in your head because the man you’ve been trying so long to forget just somehow stuck himself in your life, like a knife in your chest.

For the rest of the day, you throw yourself back into the plethora of files you’ve poured over with Namjoon for what seems like hundreds of times. You go through all the budgets, contracts, blueprints, and black books until time bleeds into the late afternoon. But you can’t rest, for those harsh, dark eyes will come back to haunt you in your dreams. You’ll have flashbacks of that night, of him and it will only cause your chest to collapse into a black hole and swallow every last drop of color in your soul.

Jay saunters into the foyer, wolf-whistling upon seeing you and an unsettling feeling takes over when he walks up to you.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream come true?” he muses, shamelessly checking you out and you shoot him a fake smile.

“Thank you,” you say politely, borderline sarcastic, and focus your attention on your reflection in the mirror as you fix your hair and earrings, putting your best poker face on now that your fiancé is standing a few feet away.

“You’re having dinner with your brothers again?” “No, we’re meeting with the commission tonight.”

“Ah. Scary,” he says, a teasing smile on his face. You have a feeling that he actually thinks that, hence why he hasn’t offered up an opportunity to show you off, even though the commission consists entirely of men.

“Will you be alright?”

You don’t know how many times you’ve internally rolled your eyes since you’ve met him. Do you have ‘I’m helpless’ tattooed on your forehead or something?

“Yep. I shouldn’t be out too late.”

“Then I won’t wait up for you.” His tone is light like he’s still making jokes but you are in no joking mood so you bite your tongue. You weren’t expecting him to, nor would you want him to do that. Your phone pings and a rush of heat floods you when you know who it is, announcing his arrival.

“Okay. I think my ride’s here, so I’m gonna head out.”

“Let me walk you.” You want to argue that it’s not necessary, the less time spent interacting with him, the better.

Play nice, Angel, Jin's voice rings in your head. Play nice.

So, you let him accompany you down the hall, help you on with your coat, and open the door for you that you politely thank him for.

In the driveway, a waxed black palisade with tinted windows is parked parallel to the main entrance, exhaust running, and your nostrils flare when you see Min Yoongi - oh, excuse you, D - standing next to the passenger's side, waiting for you with his hands clasped.

“Who’s that?”

“The security my brothers hired,” you say nonchalantly, even though there’s a burning rage in your chest.

“Huh. I thought you had an older driver.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have any security experience, so.” You notice that your fiancé seems to be somehow bothered by that information, but you don’t press it because you really don’t fucking care.

“Well, have a good-” But he interrupts you, tearing his attention away from the car you’re dreading having to ride in.

“So, my dad wants us to have dinner with them. Maybe you can make some time next weekend? He’ll want to know how things are going at the casino.”

Oh, god. That is the last thing you want to do. Jay’s parents are extremely conservative and traditional, and you can’t imagine what they’ll have to say to you now that you’re living with their son. But again, you have to play nice.

“Sure, I’ll let you know my schedule.”

“Sounds good,” he nods and just as you start to turn, he grabs your hand, the one with the oversized diamond sitting on your ring finger, his head quickly moving from the driveway to lean in and kiss right on the jewel and it makes you feel a bit icky.

“I’ll see you later,” he says from your knuckles with a noticeable grin. You plaster on a tight smile and subtly retract your hand.

“Have a good night.” He nods and lets you go, watching as you make your way down the marble stairs, thinking to yourself this would be the time you might appreciate his help, considering you’re in heels and it’s freezing outside. But you don’t really want him to touch you again so you rely on the railing.

“Take care of my fiancée for me!” Jay calls out as you make it off the porch. Your eyes roll back so far in your head you have to close them and walk blindly for a few seconds. As you approach the car, you keep your head down, refusing to see how D responds to that. Although you don’t think he would, since he’s given you no indication that he even has emotions anymore as of yet.

From one man that pisses you off to the next. To say you're fuming would be an understatement.

Wearing a sleek black suit, a long winter coat to match, and, since it’s still light out, those dark sunglasses, he bows to you in greeting before opening the door, gesturing for you to get in.

"Good evening," he says as you approach, and you don’t reply, don't even look at him. You hate him, you really do, so why is it that his dark, quiet yet thunderous voice makes your heart skip a beat?

You feel his gaze on you as you reach for the back door, completely ignoring him, and slide into the warm car, slamming the door shut before scooting to sit behind the driver's side. You don’t want to be tempted to look at him in the rear-view mirror.

The passenger door closes and you whip out your phone, refusing to stare at the man swiftly striding around the front of the car. As he does, you wonder why the fuck he thought you would want to sit next to him. You’ve never felt comfortable treating your drivers like chauffeurs but this driver is a special case and you hope that he’s gotten the message.

When he gets in and shuts out the cold, you're suddenly overwhelmed by the loud, attractive scent of his cologne and aftershave, a certain musk and mint to it that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head for a split second. Fuck, he smells good, even with a hint of a cigarette. And expensive. You can only imagine the type of salary your brothers smuggle into his wallet, especially now that your safety is his sole responsibility. Protection like that doesn’t come cheap.

You dare him to say anything else, so you get out your case of earbuds with the intention to blast music and drown him out. But before you can shove them in, a stack of manila folders hangs in front of your face, held by long, thin fingers decorated by chunky silver rings, and for a second you want to ask him what the fuck he’s doing, triggered by the fact that you’re so fucking over looking through files, even more so for him to be dumping more on you.

“What’s this?” you grumble, teeth clenching as you reluctantly accept the folders and draw them into your lap.

“Your brother wanted me to find you an assistant, so these are five candidates,” he explains, voice slightly muffled by the engine and from speaking to the windshield. “Take your pick and I’ll set up an interview.”

You can’t help your genuine surprise as you look over the spread he handed you, each file neatly organized with resumes, backgrounds, references and head shots. You wish he fucked something up so you'd have an excuse to call him incompetent, but he did his homework. And if he got all of this together since last night, then he’s more diligent than you want to give him credit for.

You swallow a scoff. "I'm allowed to choose? I didn't think I got a say.” 

"If you didn't, I wouldn't be giving you options."

"Are you sure?” You snark, face buried in the files. “I know you answer to my brother, and you wouldn't want to get in any trouble."

A beat passes. "He's not my boss. You are."

Well. That is... the last thing you thought he would say. And you never would've considered yourself his boss.

Oh. You're going to have fun with this.

“These are all men,” you scowl after you flip through all of the resumes.

Yeah, just what you need.

You lean forward to toss the files on the passenger's seat, papers scattering onto the floor. Your instincts urge you to apologize and offer to clean up the mess, but your pride has you sitting back with your arms crossed, looking out of the tinted window indifferently.

“You could’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble if you’d just asked me what I was looking for. But I guess you don’t really care what I want, do you?”

You spare a glance into the rearview mirror, the top half of his face clearly visible, but… you still can’t tell if he’s looking at you. You don’t wait for a response, not thinking there’s anything he could say anyway, and let your earbuds do the job of shutting him out.

It isn’t until you’re halfway to your destination that you realize you didn’t text him at all until an hour before you had to leave, so how could he have contacted you before that? That’s beside the point.

He should know what you’re really throwing in his face.

The car barely pulls to a stop in front of the warehouse when a small group of guards swarm around to flank the doors. Taking out your earbuds, you stare out of the tinted windows at the suited men looking all around to make sure you’re in the clear. You feel anything but assured.

One guard is standing right in front of the door, essentially blocking you inside, and D gets out, apparently needing to be the one to open it for you and assist in your exit.

The air is crisp and cold when your heels hit the gravel, and you don’t miss the way D’s palm flips up as you start to stand, playing it off when you intentionally ignore the gesture by lifting his wrist to his mouth to speak into the mic connected to his earpiece that runs under his sleeve.

You shiver when you step out and D shuts the door, holding an arm out to signal you to walk forward, pressing a finger into his earpiece. The guards fall into formation around you, one in front, one on either side, and D right behind you. This level of protection feels a bit too much as they escort you into the maze of shipping containers, you aren’t the president or some A-list celebrity, but you’re about to walk into a den of wolves, so you can’t go without a pack of your own.

They lead you through the arid warehouse, filled with shelves of boxes ready to ship out on the harbor, some legal, most illicit. In the very back is a steel door, and the leading guard opens it, takes a look down in the stairwell, and beckons you forward. You step into the hallway and catch a glimpse of the emergency exit, door wedged open by a… silver cigarette case? That looks very much like the one you saw your brother slip out of his coat this morning and sneak outside before Jin came down for breakfast. You head for it and a guard puts a hand out to stop you, but you push past him, D calls for you, but you pay no attention and pop open the door, hesitating when Jungkook flinches and whips back his jacket, hand reaching for something in his waistband.

“Jesus, Angel,” he grumbles, letting go of his jacket to cover the handle of his gun, and takes a heavy drag of the cigarette. You bend down to pick up his silver case and the door doesn’t close and you don’t doubt that D is the one holding it open.

“Relax, it’s just lil ole me,” you say, eyebrow raising when he shoots a glare your way. "What's up, bro?"

“What was last night about?" he asks, a hot start. He leans over to snatch the case out of your hands.

“Hey!”

"Are you done being an asshole? You were pretty rude to hyung last night. And D and Hope.” His tone is testy as smoke pours from his lips.

Crossing your arms, you prop yourself on the wall with a huff and an eyeroll.

“Well, that depends. Are you done keeping things from me?” He sighs and scratches the wrinkle between his brows with his thumbnail.

“We knew you wouldn’t like it, so that’s why we waited to tell you.” “What about any of this do you think that I like?” You blurt in a raised voice that gets lost in the frigid breeze. He stares at you for a moment before looking away to take a drag, a tick in his jaw. You aren’t being fair, you know. Your brother is in the exact same boat. Neither of you signed up for this, but at least he wasn’t thrown into the fire at the last minute with little to no time to process anything. And his life isn't being guarded by someone who broke his heart.

"You can't be that way in there."

“I know. I'm sorry,” you try to recover. “It’s just-” As you stare out at the run-down docks, you can’t think of a way to explain what you’re sorry for. Instead, you swivel to face him and step up with a beckoning hand in the air.

“Can I have one?” Flicking ash on the brick, his expression changes to level you with a hesitant look.

“Since when do you smoke?” You don’t really, hating the taste and the smell, but the kind of cigarettes that your brother buys isn’t as pungent and disgusting. Sometimes a little nicotine helps to take the edge off.

“Since I found out I’m about to become a criminal.”

He rolls his eyes. “What do you mean ‘about to’? Haven’t you been arrested before?”

“Not recently!” you exclaim. He’s one to talk! “And besides, that was for petty theft and I wasn’t even charged.”

“Don’t forget the time you spent a night in jail when you got caught speed racing. Hyung was so pissed he had to fly all the way out there to bail your dumb ass out.” Jungkook tilts forward, crossing his ankles as he chuckles out a puff of smoke.

“Well, it’s your fault I even know how to race.” He opens his mouth to argue but you shut him down. “Do you want me to go ahead and list out your rap sheet too? We would be here all night.”

“Go to hell.” You laugh at his disgruntled scowl.

“I’ll meet you there. Give me your lighter or I’ll tell Jin you started smoking again.”

He shakes his head, both of you knowing damn well that Jin would not approve of the two of you chain smoking.

“Don’t be a tattletale.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite.”

“No,” he grumbles. “You shouldn’t be smoking.”

“You shouldn’t either!”

“I know. I’m quitting soon and I'm not about to let you start.”

With a reluctant huff, you lean back against the wall, watching smoke billow out into the night sky. The both of you shiver in silence. It’s quiet out here, save for the sounds of a ship horn blaring in the distance, and the wind whistling into the alley from the docks that carries the smells of fresh water and the old rotting wood of the piers. Scents like these usually bring a sense of calm into your soul, but tonight, anxiety overrides them all. You doubt even nicotine could do anything to ease the disquietude in your head.

“I’m scared,” you confess. You glance over to see him staring down at nothing in particular, not blinking as he smokes and you want him to tell you that he is too, but he’s in no position to be. Not anymore. It used to show in his jaw, in between his brows, the rapid blinking of his eyes, but there’s none of that now. Looking at him now, gone is the boy you grew up with. And you know that’s because of how hard he worked to rid himself of all that fear, just like Jin, and what you have to do too.

“There’s no reason to be.” You look away with a frown, clearly not what you needed to hear, but his hand on your shoulder forces you to turn back.

“Listen. No one can do anything to us once they find out who we are.” You shrug off his hand. He takes a drag and blows it away from your face.

“Who’s to say they won’t?”

“Me. After tonight, I own this city and everything that belongs to us. That includes you, Angel. We’re not the ones who should be afraid.”

“Boss, it’s time to go.” You glance over your shoulder where a single, flickering light above the door shines down on D’s head as he holds it open with a flattened hand. You turn back to your brother as he sucks in a final drag before dropping the butt and squishing it under his heel. Exhaling smoke up to the sky, he hooks an arm around your shoulder and begins walking you to the door, not letting you fight your way out of his hold.

“We got this, sis.” You roughly push him and he finally lets go, clicking your tongue when he laughs at your glare.

“You do,” you mutter, straightening out your coat and smoothing down your dress. Nervous habits. He stops and grabs your elbow.

“It’s us now. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe through a scared smile.

You keep your head up as you walk past D who slides against the door to put distance between you, yet still close enough to catch another whiff of his cologne. One breath and you’re aggravated that it’s him, another breath and the scent filters into your senses, leaving an undeniable calm.

Back inside, Jungkook claps a hand on D’s shoulder as the guards return to their formation to lead you down the stairs and into the den. Before you enter, you can tell just how crowded it is from the sounds of chatter and laughter that drips exorbitant wealth, and the accompanying stench of thick illegal cigars that makes your nose itch.

Jungkook walks around you to be the first one in the room and a wave of anxiety skids your heels to a stop. A presence that you’re coming to know all too well looms behind you, like he’s your shadow. More like a demon. Your eyes close to quell the drum pounding in your chest.

“After you,” he mutters, the sinful thunder in his voice mere inches away from your ear sending a shiver down your spine, eyes flying open and feet moving on their own accord to get away from it.

Fuck. That.

The ringing in your ears that stems from his voice and low-spoken words rumbling in a loop through your mind aids you in your ability to shut out the room and the way it quiets down as you walk to the head of the table where your brothers stand in wait for you. The rest of the men are also already standing and it just makes their intense, collective stare on you that much more stifling.

You remove your coat and a hand stretches out beside you that you silently allow to take your coat. Jin gestures for you to sit on his right, across from Jungkook, and waves for the commission to take their seats as well. Behind you, the doors close and one glance to the side shows D getting into place with your brothers guards by the adjacent wall, holding your coat.

With a polite, reserved expression, you take a sweep of the room and observe that these men are an assortment of strange faces and ones you’ve seen in Namjoon’s files. They’re all young and old. Father and son. Leaving you as the outlier. And that causes a lump in your throat.

Jin launches into introducing you and Jungkook, and all you can do is keep your back straight and hands on the table, respectfully paying attention as he explains how now that he’s going on the lam, the family heads will defer to Jungkook, and their crews and associates will report to you for any and all financial endeavors at the casino. As Jin speaks these plans into reality, you finally begin to feel the full pressure and burden of your impending responsibilities.

And this time your brother won't be there to bail you out.

The members offer your end of the table diplomatic nods of acknowledgement and subtle darting eyes between you and Jungkook.

But just as Jin gives Jungkook the floor, a deep, condescending laugh resounds from across the table, belonging to a smug, rugged man wearing thick chains and even thicker rings. All attention snaps to his interruption and your skin crawls when he fixes you with a leering, patronizing stare.

“I’m sorry, but with all due respect, do you really think your junkie brother can handle being in charge?” 

Your eyebrows cross at the audacity. He’s speaking as if Jin is not the reigning top boss of this entire room and Jungkook is not about to step in and fill his shoes. There’s a slur to his words and the near empty decanter next to his glass indicates that he’s imbibed and probably incognizant. Because who in their right mind would dare to provoke the kingpin of the city’s mob syndicate like this.

You look over to Jin, expecting him to call out the man’s blatant disrespect, but both him and Jungkook are staring the man down with darkness and anger that you’ve never seen before. Perhaps they’re just giving him the chance to dig himself into a hole so deep he’ll have to stay there.

“And what about her?” the man with a greasy mustache points at you. “I don’t know if I can trust her capabilities with dealing business at the casino. I mean, what does she know?”

He’s underestimating you and you’re sure he’s not alone in that. Everyone else is just smart enough to keep their mouths shut. You feel the urge to pull your hands into your lap to frown at, but you just lean back in your chair, maintaining a cool expression as you wait for him to spew more of his bullshit.

“Yeah, sure they were born with the purpose of serving your father, but we all know they weren’t raised like you. So how can they possibly be prepared to take over in your place?”

“Because they’re my blood,” Jin finally says, voice steady and reasonable. But his narrowed eyes and blown out pupils tells you he’s anything but.

“Only by half,” he sneers. “Wasn’t their mother some low-life maid?” You feel choked by the mention of your mother and wonder just how much this man and the rest of the commission know about you beyond what they’re entitled to. Your chest squeezes when you catch eyes with Jungkook as he furiously picks at his fingers, probably not realizing he’s even doing it. 

“See, that’s where the don went wrong. Choosing a peasant to procreate his back-up heirs with. Their blood doesn’t really count, at least not in my book.” Lee looks around as if to see who else is on his side, but no one takes their attention off of Jin as he rises and digs a hand onto Jungkook’s shoulder.

“He is the don now.”

Lee scoffs. “He’s a junkie! Just like your father.” Your fingers clench into a tight fist, the urge to stand up for your brother sending a violent rush through your veins.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Lee,” Jin growls in a malicious tone. “You’re forgetting your place. Don’t make me remind you.”

“My place,” Lee chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. He picks up his glass and bangs it on the table with a thud. “My place should be at the head of that fucking table with my son, not these little children. We should be the next in line now that you’re resigning!” “I’m not resigning,” Jin barks, fixing the entire room with a dead serious glare. “I’m leaving to avoid prison. Because if I go down, I’m taking everyone with me. Do I make myself fucking clear?”

Jin’s power reverberates off of the walls and it carves away some of your anxiety. He points a stern finger at Lee.

“They are the rightful heirs, just as I am, and I won’t throw away all of what I’ve built just because you don’t accept that.”

“What your father built,” Lee spits in contempt. Jin bends down with a heavy slam of his hands on the wood surface. “What my family built. And what my brother and sister will continue to build because it’s theirs now.” “Do they know that’s the only reason why they were born? Well, him at least.” Your face contorts in confusion when he points at Jungkook. Jin lifts his hands from the table and the tension in the room grows thicker as he stands tall. “Excuse me?” “It’s a fair question. Does she know that when there were rumors that Don Kim had a daughter, he adamantly denied it?”

Your heart pounds in your ears when Lee slides his beady eyes to you, fingernails digging into your sweaty palms.

“You were a mistake, sweetheart,” he lilts with an ugly, crooked grin. “What use would he have with a girl? All you’re good for now is playing trophy wife to appease the son of your father’s biggest investor. You’re just a pawn in his business plan, you have no real value.”

“Lee, that’s enough-” Jin snarls.

“Lee Dong-wook, right?” you starkly interject, staring unwaveringly at him and his rising eyebrow. “Didn’t you lose your business in the east harbors when you failed to keep quota and you couldn’t control disputes between the local gangs? I can’t remember exactly how much money and how many men you cost my brothers but I know it was a lot.”

Lee’s jaw drops, rendered speechless. A raging vein begins to bulge on the side of his forehead, turning his face beet red now that you’re doing the job of tearing him down from his high horse.

“But at least you still have this side of the harbor so you can trade paraphernalia with other parts of the coast. Like these.” You reach forward for a box of cigars in front of Jungkook, only to find it empty. To your surprise and everyone else's, you stand and move to pass behind your brothers, ignoring Jin’s hushed, “What are you doing?” as you walk over to Lee, hoping to exert some intimidation by standing your ground over him. You try to disregard the fact that he is twice your size and far more muscular but Jungkook’s words from earlier remind you that no one can hurt you now. The shadow that follows you will ensure that.

You spot another cigar box next to Lee and another older man, and no one says anything as you lean in between them to take one out, snatching up one of the lighters as well. Holding up the cigar beneath your nose, you inhale the strong flavored mix of coffee and leather.

“Hmm, not bad,” you reflect, analyzing the stamped label before you unravel the plastic. “Kind of cheap, but I guess the tobacco isn’t what your customers are actually after. It’s smart, smuggling amphetamines in these. Just ironic that you move rock for a living but have the nerve to call my brother a junkie. I don't doubt you take samples.”

The wrapper you crumple and the lighter you flick open to fire up the cigar become the only sounds in the room. After disposing of the metal and plastic on the table, you place the wrapped leaf between your teeth and brace yourself as you take a smooth drag.

“And you must be stupid if you think I don’t know that my father didn’t want me,” you say, blowing smoke up to the ceiling while you do your best to pretend that the strong hit isn’t scratching the hell out of your throat. You glance back down to Lee whose eyes are on the brink of bulging right out of their sockets.

“But you see, I’m not here for him. I’m here for them,” you point the cigar over your shoulder at Jin and Jungkook.

“You sure they’re not forcing you?” Lee challenges, tongue thick with rage causing specks of saliva to catch on his mustache. Gross. “No one can force me to do anything,” you reply calmly. “I’ll do whatever it takes for my brothers.” A moment passes, and then another, with no response and you think you’ve made your case. But just as you’re about to give up the facade that you’re enjoying this piss-awful cigar, Lee harshly gruffs out, “Would you kill for them, little girl?”

Tilting your head, your mind races as you imagine all the ways you could show him how far you’re willing to go for both of them. A small smile creeps onto the corner of your lips around the cigar.

“Do you want to find out?” His mustache twitches. You blow smoke in its direction. “Are you threatening me?” “You tell me,” you shrug. “If anything, I’d be doing you a favor.”

“Pardon?” You lazily tap the cigar, unphased when the ash falls to the floor, some of it on Lee’s lap, earning a menacing glower.

“It sounds like you have a death wish. Coming in here and disrespecting my brothers even though you can’t do a goddamn thing without their say so. They own you and, now, so do I.”

Lee doesn’t break your stare but by the curl of his fist on the arm of the chair and his cheeks that tinge an even darker red, you’ve severely pissed him off. “You don’t have what it takes to kill me.” Taking that as a challenge, you reach down, lift the hem of your slacks, and snatch out the knife nestled in the strap around your calf. In a flash, you bring your sharp silver blade to the vein on his thick neck, smoke from the cigar dangerously close to his sideburns. “Wanna bet?”

A commotion erupts around you as one of Lee’s men move to defend him at a moment’s notice, weapon threatening to withdraw and your pulse glitches for a second at the potential danger. That is until a figure behind you pushes away Lee’s guard and you know without looking that it’s Jungkook coming to your aid. And next to him is that dark and menacing man smelling of mint and musk and intimidation.

“Well, I bet you’d hate to get killed by a girl. So I’ll save you your dignity.”

Lowering your knife, you lean away but pause when a goading sneer grows on his ugly mug.

“You’re weak. Just like your brother who can’t even man up and take responsibility for the casino because of what happened to his little-” Before he can finish that sentence that would have Jungkook flying off the handle, you stab the burning end of your cigar on the back of his hand, twisting a sear into his skin until he leaps up with a shriek.

“You bitch!” The cigar plants itself on the side of his neck, until your wrist is grabbed and ripped away, tobacco falling to the floor, just like the man who dared to put hands on you. As you’re pulled back by your brother, off to the side is D manhandling Lee’s guard into submission, face pressed into the wall with a gun shoved into the side of his head. Your brothers’ guards surround you and there’s a standoff with Lee’s men, the rest of the room watching on in shock, no one else daring to move lest they get caught in impending crossfire.

“Weapons down, now,” Jin’s terse voice booms. The guns slowly lower but the fierce glares remain pinned on opposite sides.

“Lee. You’re dismissed.” You think that’s code for, I’m not going to kill you in front of my sister. You’re positive if you weren’t present, this night would’ve ended in bloodshed.

“Have fun getting whacked,” you grin devilishly at Lee who can’t decide which burn hurts worse. “I hope your last thought is of my pretty face.”

In brazen stupidity, Lee steps forward but before his foot can even touch the ground, he’s sent flying back with your brother’s fists in his collar. A hand on your elbow tugs you away from the chaos you created, but you can’t look away from it, like it’s a car crash. But D steps in front of you just as you’re dragged to the front of the room by your brother. Your coat is swung around your shoulders and suddenly you’re facing Jin who guides you to the door. D appears right by your side.

“I knew you had it in you, kiddo,” Jin says with a proud glint in his eyes. On the other side of the room, your brother’s guards are doing their best to keep Jungkook and Lee apart as they usher him to the exit.

“D, take her home.”

The backseat of the car is warm on the ride home. Your hands are shaking, surely from the adrenaline. That’s when it hits you, what you just did. Fuck. You’ve never acted that way before, never purposely hurt someone because you didn’t like what they said.

But you liked it. The power you had, and the confidence it gave you. And that scares you. 

“Are you okay?” D asks tentatively. It’s then that you realize you’ve been crying. You flick a defiant tear from your cheek and wrap your arms tighter around yourself.

“What do you care?” you mumble bitterly. The rest of the drive is spent in silence. If you were sitting up front, you would’ve seen the way his fingers flexed on the steering wheel.

When he pulls up to your house, you quickly get out even though he starts to say something, desperate to be inside, away from him and the cold and everything that happened. 

You don’t know why your office has become your safe haven, but you return there and collapse into one of the armchairs, weighed down by tonight, and what’s in store. Not to mention the extra weight added on your chest because of D.

So you cry. You cry until you're practically dehydrated, but you don't think that could stop you with how much you're hurting. That is until you hear a knock on your office door. It startles you, you’ve never expected anyone to check on you, especially not your fiancé. Were you crying so loud that he could hear you all the way across the house? You don't think that much of it, too busy getting a hold of yourself to look presentable before cracking open the door.

His face is overshadowed by the hallway light, and you can't see his eyes that well. You try to hide your swollen, tear-streaked cheeks from him, but he peers over the door with a small yet gentle smile.

"What's wrong? Did things not go well with the commission?”

You quickly wipe away any stray tears, putting on a brave face as you open the door a little further.

"Ah, well. It was just a lot, y’know?” You scramble, because you can't actually tell him what's wrong. Obviously. You don't think you'll ever be able to tell anyone. And you definitely don’t want to admit that you’re being weak.

"I do. Everything will be okay. It'll all take some adjustment." Huh. That's... comforting, coming from him. Like he understands.

"So, I was just in the kitchen, raiding the pantries for some snacks. Would you care to join?"

“Sure. You, uh,” you tug your sleeves over your hands, clenching them with cold fingers. “You couldn’t hear me from all the way out there, right?”

He turns his back to you with a laugh, leading you down the hallway.

“No, but I noticed you came home late and, well, I just wanted to see how things went. But I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk to me.”

“You said you wouldn’t wait up.” “I was joking, but I guess it didn’t land well. You might have to get used to my sense of humor.” That was humor?

Damn. When did you get so mean?

On the island counters in the expansive kitchen, he sets out some bowls and fills them with snacks as you take a seat on one of the tall stools.

“Do you like any of these?” “Sure,” you shrug, reaching for one of the bowls.

“If there’s anything you want, put it on a list and I can send it off to be picked up.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I can do my own shopping. Thanks, though.” You’ll have to text your brothers later to tell them how right you are about him.

“Alright, well let me know if you change your mind. I’m just trying to help out.”

You nod, chewing pensively, and he shakes his head to change the subject.

“Anyway, can you tell me what happened tonight? That made you so upset.”

You carefully retell bits and pieces of the meeting, leaving out the part when you stabbed an old man twice with a cigar. You give him the gist of how the family heads might not entirely back the idea of you and Jungkook gaining control of the syndicate, to which Jay tells you they’ll have to get over it because you’re just doing your family duty.

For a while, you chat, finding that conversation with your fiance comes a little easier than you thought. You guess you just had to give it a chance. He gives you his support for some of the plans you have for the casino renovations and even offers to take a look at the blueprints. He cracks corny jokes every now and then that you have to force a bit of laughter because sometimes they don’t make sense, but you don’t entirely loathe this whole interaction.

He is very charming; you'll give him that. But you still have a prickly feeling that it’s all just an act to be good to you in order to impress your brothers and get on their good side. And once they’re out of sight, no longer around to look out for you, he’ll show his true colors. Maybe you’re just jaded and bitter.

But you don’t think you should let your guard down just yet.

You won’t make the same mistake again.

.

.

.

lmaoooo originally i was aiming for a 12-14k word count. whoops. but it's finally here! this has been a whirlwind. I've been wanting to get this out for a while but i've been kind of nervous about it. honestly im glad i waited because so many things came together for this part that i didn't have before. sorry for the wait.

xxx - claret

thank you for reading 😊

let me know what you think!!! <333

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@viankiss @taegijns @polarnightmyg @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos

[levandright]

WHAT THE HEART WANTS ★ K.SN & Y.JW | TEASER

synopsis. you love your best friend, kim sunoo. but scared of confessing and possibly losing your precious friendship, you'd rather let these feelings left unsaid and buried in your heart. so, what do you do if a popular underclassman confesses to you on valentine's day?

pairings : bsf! sunoo x f!reader, jungwon x f!reader ♦ content / warning(s) : unrequited love, yn is scared to confess, yn has a hard time choosing, fluff, jungwon is a sweetheart ♦ est word count : 4-6k ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : hopefully i can post the first part in a week or two, this is based a lot from my experiences but happier(bcs of the poll) i estimate there will be 3 parts in total for this because of reasons i cannot spoil for now ^-^

of all the secrets you hold close, the feelings you have for sunoo are by far the heaviest. they live in the quiet spaces between you: in every smile he gives you, in every joke you share, in the warmth of every comforting hug, and in the countless secrets you’ve entrusted to each other. he knows so much about you, maybe even more than anyone else. but there’s one truth you’ve never told him, one that sits like a stone in your heart, heavier than all the others.

truth is, sunoo is more than just a friend. somewhere along the way, he became your safe place, your first call in moments of joy and the one person you seek in times of pain. he’s become the one person you feel you can tell anything to—anything, that is except how much he truly means to you. and no matter how many times you imagine confessing, a familiar fear always rises up, wrapping around you like creeping vines: what if he doesn’t feel the same? what if telling him shatters this beautiful, fragile bond you share?

so you make a decision. you decide not to tell him. instead, you resolve to stay silent, to hide your feelings and let them fade on their own, like colors slowly washing out in the sun. you tell yourself that it’s better this way, better to preserve the friendship you cherish than risk losing him altogether.

it’s harder than you imagined. every day with him feels like a test of your willpower, a delicate dance of pushing down what your heart keeps trying to whisper. you start training yourself to see him as just a friend, catching yourself whenever your thoughts drift too far. when he laughs at one of his own jokes, that contagious laugh lighting up his face, you remind yourself that he’s just sunoo, your best friend. when he smiles that bright, heart-stopping smile of his, you train yourself to look away, to ground yourself in the friendship you already have.

there are moments when the urge to reach out and just say everything rises up so suddenly it almost takes your breath away. but each time, you swallow it back, promising yourself that this silence is worth it, that keeping the friendship untouched by unspoken confessions is worth the cost of unexpressed love.

days turn into weeks, and then into months. slowly, it gets a little easier. you start focusing on other things—leaning into hobbies you’d neglected, spending more time with other friends, and setting new goals for yourself. the ache in your heart begins to dull, like a bruise fading with time. you find yourself thinking less about every text he sends, letting go of the habit of analyzing every word, every emoji. the butterflies that once took flight at the smallest hint of his affection start to quiet down, becoming memories of something you’re learning to let go of.

then one day, it happens. the two of you are sitting together, laughing over some ridiculous story he’s telling, and you realize with a sudden, quiet clarity that you’re no longer waiting for something to happen between you. the pang you used to feel when you looked at him—that longing for something more—feels almost absent, replaced by something softer, more comfortable. and just like that, you understand: maybe, just maybe, you’re finally moving on.

the realization fills you with a bittersweet sense of relief. there’s freedom in it, a lightness that settles over you as you realize you can finally be by his side as just a friend, without the constant weight of unspoken feelings pressing down on you. you’re proud of yourself, too. proud of the strength it took to let go of what could never be, to find peace in what you already have instead of yearning for something more.

as days pass, you find yourself enjoying this new stage in your friendship. without the burden of your secret feelings, every moment you spend together feels lighter, easier. you laugh freely, knowing there’s no longer an unspoken confession lurking in the back of your mind. the quiet ache that once colored every shared joke, every smile, is gone—or at least, you tell yourself it is.

and sunoo notices the change, too. one day, as you’re both walking home after a long day, he glances at you, a smile tugging at his lips.

“you seem… different lately,” he says, his voice soft but laced with curiosity.

you smile back, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight blush on your cheeks. “different? how?”

he tilts his head, squinting at you thoughtfully. “i don’t know. happier, i guess? like something’s changed.”

you laugh, brushing it off with a casual shrug. “maybe i just finally figured some things out.”

and it’s true. you feel lighter now, free from the weight of what-ifs and unspoken desires. for so long, you had convinced yourself that sunoo was the only one who could fill that place in your heart, that loving him was something you had no control over. but now, you understand that love doesn’t always need to be confessed, that sometimes, the strongest kind of love is the one that allows you to let go, to find happiness in simply being close.

yet, even as you convince yourself that you’ve moved on, there are quiet moments that betray you. sometimes, when he throws his arm around you casually, or when he looks at you in that way that’s both familiar and fond, you feel a faint flutter, like an old feeling waiting to resurface. it’s a quiet, buried warmth, something you’re not sure you’ll ever truly get rid of. but you keep it hidden, folded away in a place you don’t have to look at too often. you’ve buried it well, but it’s still there, waiting.

for now, you’re content to keep that love hidden, unspoken and safe. you tell yourself it’s okay. the soft warmth in your chest isn’t a burden anymore—it’s just a part of you, a gentle reminder of a love that didn’t have to be spoken to be real. you’re happy by his side, as his friend, sharing laughter and secrets and every small, precious moment in between.

so you continue on, content in the simple joys of being sunoo’s friend. and if that buried love still lingers in the quiet, unguarded moments, well, that’s something you’ve learned to live with. it’s enough, you tell yourself.

perm taglist.@honeybelleee @honeychocos @manaah02 @kozumesphone (open!)

requests. open!

©levandright

[grison-in-space]

Stupidest of stupid questions: So humans are trichromatic, right? We basically have RGB eyes. How inefficient would it be to have CMYK eyes? Is it even possible?

You could absolutely do CMY eyes, but the K (being black) is a little more difficult because black isn't a wavelength of light so much as the absence of light. I suppose you could call the K your rods, which are best used in low light and convey things like "shadows" and "movement" particularly effectively. As a human, the most sensitive part of your retina, the part you're using when you directly look at things, is called the fovea. It is PACKED with cones, which are good for color and also tight spatial resolution; rods are found outside along the periphery of both the retinal and visual field. So we're just going to set the K aside now and think about those cones.

Honestly, tetrachromat eyes are technically pretty easy to achieve: all you need is four versions of cone-rhodopsin genes getting translated into different kinds of cone-rhodopsin cells in your retina. Old World primates evolved our trichromat eyes from dichromat mammalian ancestors exactly this way: with a gene duplication in one core cone-rhodopsin gene that allowed one of the copies to accumulate mutations until a sufficiently divergent copy fixed in the population.

So to have CMY eyes, you'd need three cone-rhodopsins with different wavelength sensitivities: one that is most sensitive to cerulean, one most sensitive to maroon, and one most sensitive to yellow. You might or might not have better color resolution than a regular old RGB human, though: color resolution is partly a function of the sensory information hitting your retinas, but it's also partly a function of how much brain space you dedicate to processing that information.

I mentioned my blind cat Arthur the other day--here's a photo:

Arthur is what we call cortically blind. As a kitten, he had an intact pupillary reflex and could probably see light vs dark, but he also had severe nystagmus, so his pupils jittered uncontrollably all the time and he probably didn't get a whole lot of useful visual input. Without the visual experience of seeing things and learning how to organize and process visual information, his brain as he developed went "you know what? fuck this" and stopped dedicating any processing power to whatever visual input he was getting.

Basically, he lost visual acuity because the information he was able to pipe to his brain was fragmented and poor-quality enough that his brain stopped bothering to process it. If I pulled his current eyeballs out and magically hooked up new totally functional ones, he wouldn't be able to do anything with them: his brain has given up sorting out the information.

So the question of whether theoretical CMY humans could distinguish colors better than RGB humans is driven by two things: one, whether having two highly-overlapping cones helps you distinguish between slightly variant light types better than very different cones, and two, whether we're extending the total visual range by moving the cones at the external ends of the range (B and R) farther apart. Overlapping but unique sensory information can be really helpful for localizing and distinguishing similar-but-not-identical inputs--that's one of the reasons owls are good at localizing quiet noises, actually, their ears are wildly asymmetrical and they can computer where a noise is made based on how loudly it can be heard with each ear, especially if the owl is on the move as it listens. Like the Doppler effect, but faster with a lot more processing power on it.

I have no idea which would be more effective, but it's a fun thing to think about!

[lj-lephemstar]

Progress Checkup! (Nov. 2024) | Scratchin' Melodii Devlog

​​Hey again guys! Sorry if it's been a bit since the last devlog. With how much I've been up to, it sure feels like it!

Let's get right into it. For starters, the 3rd rival battle of Act 2 is complete! I'll likely be showing a gameplay preview of it sometime soon. This is the first song to use the new framework that I'll be using for all the other stages going forward, which also means I've had to spend the past couple weeks getting the previous songs working with this new system too... Did you know that in the demo builds, if I wanted to change something about the gameplay, I'd have to manually go back and change it for EACH individual song one by one? Well now, imagine all the songs had like a peace treaty to just share one good, clean, and organized system that I can easily tweak and add to as I please. So development is gonna be smoother than ever from here! This is how most games are SUPPOSED to work, but I was a liiittle too stupid to figure out how to do this until recently!

While I was moving Cream Cheese Icing over to this new system, I took the opportunity to make the chart a bit more beginner-friendly! For example, the first line went from this...

To just this!

As you can see, it has less notes, therefore it is less scary for new players. Believe it or not, I actually never intended for Cream Cheese Icing to be so difficult for new players in the first place! Naturally, being too good at my own game can make gauging the difficulty curve a bit tricky at times, but I think I'm figuring it out!​

You may have also noticed that the characters have new UI icons too! I felt like the old ones were too flat and boring, so I did a new take on them, aiming for more dynamic shapes and angles, not to mention how my art style's just kinda grown a bit in general since I last drew the icons. I also ended up leaving out the circles behind them. I was a little worried I was gonna run out of unique colors for all of them at some point, plus SOME of these guys can have really big hair and/or hats that pretty much just cover up the whole circle anyway. (hi rensa)

Speaking of artwork, here's a little look at some of the updated animation I've done for Stir & Mix! (Try to imagine it in not highly-compressed-gif-form. I promise it looks better in-game!)

When working on Stir & Mix related stuff, I can't help but feel a bit of a sense of dread knowing how people may react to it... Honestly, sometimes I kinda wish it never got as popular as it did in 2022. But hey, doing my own thing regardless of what's expected of me is the most Scratchin' Melodii thing I could do!

Speaking of which, Mia learned a ton of new stuff while doing the VOCALOID tuning for the last rival battle we worked on, so we might revisit Stir & Mix's vocals again at some point before release to give it even more style! (By the way, Mia and 2cada are the same person! Sorry if I refer to both names interchangeably! She's been the one doing all the VOCALOID tuning and vocal mixing for the game since 2023.)

Well, I think that's all for now! Here's another friendly reminder that there will NOT be anymore demos of the game. Any new content will be saved for the full game's release. I know I've said it before, but I probably won't stop saying it until people stop getting confused about it LOL. Thanks for reading!! I appreciate you. - LJ

[respectthepetty]

The Loyal Pin - Episode 15

Before I actually began this recap, let me just bask in Patricia freaking the hell out when Kuea's pregnant wife, who she was warned about, actually shows up to the wedding she forced onto Pin.

Well it if isn't the consequences to your dumb ass actions, Patricia!

LOOK AT HER!

Oh shit! And now Pin has passed the hell out! I knew a girl in high school who would pass out whenever she got in trouble, and we all thought it was a medical condition at first, but one time, she passed out on the band field during morning practice, yet fell in such a way that her flute didn't get damaged, and the entire band spread that news like wildfire, so I, a kid who would NEVER be caught dead near the band hall, heard about it by second period, and homegirl was roasted accordingly in fourth period Stats when someone told her to pass out before the test so we could get out of taking it but to make sure not to damage her the calculator. Point is - Pin is band girl. This is triflin' behavior. This is not a medical condition.

And Prik is just rubbing salt in her wounds. "Anin was fighting all the way until the bitter end for your love, but once she realized you were still going to marry a man who had a whole ass pregnant wife, she decided to go to the beach instead of attending your dumb wedding"

I really disliked Aon at the start of this show, but now her faces with Anin on this beach trip are amazing because Anin is going through it, and Aon is just like, "You wanna put some cucumbers on your eyes since you've been crying so much." She is helping, but also judging, and I like that.

This is what a true ally looks like. Shit was going DOWN in his palace, and all he could think about was telling his sister.

Take notes, Anon! Ya sloppy!

Look how happy a Blue Beauty is when her girlfriend's wedding is stopped by the pregnant woman nobody would believe existed. She is smiling for love. I'm smiling for spite.

And Pin is wearing Anin's color as she, too, looks up at the sky. Glad Prik's little guilt trip worked.

PENELOPE, NO! NOT AGAIN, GIRL!

Okay, existential crisis Barbie. Quit being so damn dramatic.

Penelope planned to go through with that wedding, yet is acting all sad because Anin didn't immediately rush back to her. BARBARA! YOU'RE DOING TOO MUCH, SIS!

And now Patricia is wearing Pin's color to show she cares. You know what would show she cares? Her actually apologizing TO PIN! Her saying "sorry I fucked up and told you to die" or something like that. Doesn't haven't to be those exact words, but anything would be better than the NOTHING she is doing right now.

Penelope always has a dream about Anin leaving her or DYING, and even in her dreams, Penelope is too damn dramatic. ¡Cálmate, güey!

Wait. Is this green or orange? Someone needs to get the colorist on the phone because night time does not make a dress an entirely different color!

But the entire scene is beautiful, so the colorist made some decisions, and I cannot say they were bad decisions.

Anin laughing while Penelope is in pain is food for my petty soul.

Because Penelope is too smart to be this dumb! How did she not realize that Anin was upset that she was marrying a man and moving that man into her palace? Anin TOLD her that, but did she think Anin was joking? WTF, girl. Shut that pretty mouth of yours. I've heard enough stupidity come out of those beautiful lips for a lifetime.

Now Anin is laughing at Penelope in the house! Thank goodness because Penelope is still wildin' with these ridiculous questions! She knows nothing happened between Anin and these other women because she HEARD Anin crying about her MARRYING A MAN, yet has the audacity to pout. Penelope, just pass out again, so we can stop hearing you say irrational shit.

Anin is wiping her down with a blue towel *wink* but the green/orange dress is throwing me for a loop, so I cannot properly enjoy this.

For two chicks that just got back together after shit hit the fan when their relationship was exposed, they do not have any sense of self-preservation. Standing out on the balcony hugging each other after having sex is a choice. The wrong one.

WHY IS ANIN APOLOGIZING TO PATRICIA?! And why hasn't Patricia apologized to Pin?! And why is Anin still wearing green?! She is not a Green Girl! There is nothing chill about Anin!

There is one episode left and I need Patricia to apologize to Pin and for Anin to wear pink for her Pink Person because Pin is struggling with her color still. Quit playing with my emotions, show!

This mama is scared. She has me convinced that the closet is better than telling the dad. I'd listen to her, but Anin would never because she has no chill; therefore, she is not a Green Girl. GET THAT COLOR OUTTA HERE!

At long last, we have made it to the final boss. I don't play video games, but if this is anything like Kirby, shit's about to get messy!

But I know all will end well since Anin still has to wear pink to solidify her love for Pin.

Or this really will be the final stage of Kirby.

Pink. On Body. NOW!

[flover4ever]

first date⋆.˚ ౨ৎ ˚ ˖࣪

a/n: i think abt matt and karen's date in that restaurant all the time. such a perfect scene! i wanted to capture that energy. i've always wanted to write a matt x librarian! oc fic. but times are tough and i can never commit to things lol. here's a snippet of what could have been. also, i am not from new hampshire. but oh my god, how pretty!!!!! im jealous.

warning: matt murdock x librarian! oc

matt didn't think his night could go any better. in front of him, he's got the most beautiful girl of his dreams. she told him that he is wearing a white cardigan and light blue dress, the fabric reaches the ground. she told him that the kids from the library tell her it reminds them of when the sky is clear of clouds, only sunny and blue.

matt takes a sip of his wine. "you got family in new york?"

"no," she shakes her head, taking a sip of her water (when he first asked her out, he wanted to take her to drinks. but marianne has sworn off drinking for life). "moved here three years ago."

matt's eyebrows raised. matt realized just how little he knew about her, despite how marianne was the common thread in nelson & murdock. "where are you from?"

"new hampshire." said marianne, a small smile peaking through her, like the first ray of sunshine. "it's beautiful there, so much color and life."

"god, it's hard to describe it," she said. matt loved how she described things, down to its smallest details. she talks in such a cadence akin to deep flowing rivers to morning birds. she can make her grocery list sound like a love poem. "it's hard to capture that beauty... sense of awe at the life around you, you know?"

matt smiled, so hard his cheeks started to hurt. he was sure he'd grow smile lines by the time he's forty if he keeps this up. maybe it was worth it. for marianne. "yeah," he muttered, almost lost in a trance.

"why'd you come to new york, then?" he's genuinely curious, his head titled to the side. "i mean, you make new hampshire seem like another planet next to New York."

marianne laughs, a giddy and joyous thing. "new hampshire's home. but new york, it never leaves you know? even with the grim and grit, there's something or someone that just makes you want to stay. when I interned here in hell's kitchen, the only thing that kept me moving was the kids. story times, their little faces, their constant questions. all of it. it gave me purpose."

matt hears marianne's heart race, the kind that spoke to one's sense of passion. it was almost melodic, the rapid yet enchanting rhythm of muscle.

"nobody truly understands that they're the future," said marianne. "our future. i want to give something to them, something irreplaceable."

"like reading?"

"yeah," she sighs, like talking about the children of hell's kitchen filled her with such fervor, she couldn't contain it. "exactly."

"but working with the best lawyers in new york is a definitely a bonus," she adds, holding up her glass of water, the ice swirling against the glass.

marianne narrates what she's about to do, matt chuckles as he does the same, their glasses clinking.

"what about you?" marianne rested her head on her hand, her heartbeat starting to race as she met his eyes. though their gaze would never be able to meet, his dark gaze became her favorite shade of brown. it wasn't like hers, like earth's dirt in new hampshire's wilderness-- it was gold, shining like embers.

"me?" matt raised his eyebrows.

"yeah," she says, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, her vegan samosas long gone by now. "what made you want to be an attorney?"

"it was my father really," said matt. "he was a boxer. . . caught up with the wrong people. and when i was nine, he died. i tried giving him justice, but no luck. i guess i just don't want any nine year old matt's to feel the same way i did."

"like what?"

"helpless."

marianne's gaze softened. "you're a good man, matt."

"i think you are good, too, marianne," says matt. "better than me."

and he meant it. for years when darning the suit of daredevil, he feels as if there is a twisted part of him taking over his soul. every punch felt one step closer to that. being matt murdock, keeps him grounded-- but that wouldn't be possible without foggy, or karen, or marianne.

marianne seems like she doesn't have to try. she is effortlessly good and pure. and maybe there is a twisted side to her that she hasn't shown to him. but he's hanging out the hope that this is who she truly is. a person who is kind and good at her core, even if she had to eat through the rotten parts of herself. maybe that's what makes her truly good.

[lumilasi]

This group were not meant to be Mouthwashing ocs, but I guess that's kinda where we have ended up for now? BC my brain cooked up a full blown story about Nadiya's crew helping them - minus certain someone...... So. Curly gets rad new wheels from them, a proper way to communicate, AND much better painkillers.

(other crewmembers so far: Nadiya I Stefan)

Also apologies for the poor quality doodle comic, I don't have much time or energy this week to dedicate for a proper one rn; even with these refs, I'm skipping steps I'd normally do when designing characters, and the fact they all wear similar clothes helps speed up the process.

More info about Cherry below:

She is half Korean, half Australian; her dad is the Aussie. She has a strained relationship with him due to the drama caused by her parent's divorce.

She dyes her hair pink, because during the divorce proceedings, her dad started complaining about how her natural dark hair made her appear "gloomy" constantly, and it had a major impact on her self-esteem. She picked pink as its her mother's favorite color.

Since the crew is full of big personalities, I decided to make her more down-to-earth/quieter/timid to balance things out

Stefan's childhood friend shares her crush, and they sometimes gush about him together when tipsy.

They don't mind the fact they both like him, and would be happy for the other if Stefan ended up with them (or they could share....)

She actually doesn't show her crush in front of Stefan easily, capable of remaining professional and all, even strict if he's injured; she tends to get all flustered AFTER he's left.

While a pacifist, her sniper skills have come handy in the past during their missions multiple times. She's learned her incredibly accurate aim from her Aussie dad.

[rebeltigera]

Art tutorial for talentless souls like me? 🥺

I'm not one for tutorials tbh. I can't usually push my point across enough for people to understand sooo no tutorials from me. I could give you links to random Pinterest tutorials I never used and it would be good as much as I would give you one

I can try to help you understand art I guess. Give a little advice , but still it all would be just rambling from me . You do what you want with it

Learn that artwork is a combination of 2% of talent , 20% of happy accidents , 30% of being miserable in life and having enough of today's society, and another 90% is hard work and learning how stuff work . And fun.

And there's no really easy way about it. If you don't like learning stuff art ain't for ya ( yes , ya gotta train your muscle memory how to draw shapes. Yes you gotta practice)

Art is like math but in colors

Once you get a hold of it it sticks . Once you learn how to add one color to another you start to understand what are you doing

And then some random bullshit is happening on your canvas and you have no idea what's happening

If you are a beginner - do not compare yourself too much to others - I know it's hard and it might hurt seeing other artists be better than you. It makes you unmotivated and helpless.

Yeah, I too get like that sometimes

But

You gotta have an open mind and mindset ready for finding new ways of thinking. You see art you like? Try to understand it. How does it work? Why are you liking it so much? Is it colors? Composition? Complex /simple style?

Once you find the answer, give it a try .

Don't copy

Do your own thing . Take inspiration, let your inner self bleed onto canvas and just draw.

Oh and Do not discriminate a sketch. Most of us don't even finish those

Man I got poetic today ...

[fallenhunnyapple]

Hell is Forever and Heaven is a Lie

Here's Part 1 of the Sinner!Adam AU RP ⚠️Disclaimer⚠️ We started this RP in February very soon after we got into Adamsapple so our grasp of the characters then and our HCs and stuff were not what they are now, so there's gonna be some inconsistencies and maybe behaviors that we no longer attribute to them. So just something to keep in mind if things Change over the course of the posts. Lucifer and Charlie are written by Me Adam (and briefly later Niffty and Husk) are written by @fallenguitarhero

~~~~~~~~~~rp start~~~~~~~~~~~

When Charlie called him over in a panic, Lucifer was instantly there by her side. Adam. Having Adam in Hell as a sinner was, well. It was a whole disaster. It made sense? He was far from Noble and his soul was still human, though he lacked the element of free will. But it certainly didn't sit well with him. Especially since he was near his daughter. His precious little girl who he had dared to hurt before. He still wished he had taken him out back then, but now it seemed that it wouldn't have mattered since he was right there in Hell again.

Charlie, his kind caring and sweet daughter, had convinced him to help in such a drastic way. Anything to help her, and this was part of Anything. He knew she always had Hell's best interest at heart, whether they deserved it or not. But it was true that if he could have Adam under control, that would endanger her Much less than if he was allowed to exist within the Hotel without him.

With a sigh and a glance back at the one is question, Lucifer faced his daughter with a gentle smile. "Okay. I'll do it."

There was obvious relief on Charlie's expression as she hugged him. "Thanks Dad! I guess now I'll just. Have to tell him. Yeah, that'll be easy... Haha..."

Her tone was obviously nervous but she pulled away from the hug and took a few steps towards Adam before clearing her throat. "Heeeey, so. Adam. You can Stay here, we're all about second chances! But, uh. All of Hell will probably be after you and well.... We don't want that to fuck us over. Sooo there is Ooone little itty bitty condition. And! It's for your safety too! You'll be killed if you're not under some sort of... Protection. And my dad, Lucifer, has agreed toooo... Make a deal with you to keep the rest of Hell from trying to kill you and destroy the Hotel! Yaaaaaay."

---- Adam was not happy.

He'd had time to calm down from his initial panic and rage. The situation still fucking sucked but now he was actually taking stock of his surroundings and thinking through his options.

He fucking hated being ignored by Lucifer and his little bitch of a daughter but at the very least it gave him the space he needed to think things through. Adam wandered through the rebuilt lobby and poked at the decorations- ugh, why was hell so red? What a lame color. Adam liked blue better.

So. Clearly, something had been done to his wings so that he couldn't just fly up and open the portal between heaven and hell. Adam also felt disoriented and off balance, as though his center of gravity had changed.

Speaking of change...

Adam caught a glimpse of his reflection in a decorative mirror and went very still. His hand rose to touch one of his new horns and he winced when his claws scraped the surface and agitated the swiftly growing headache that was pounding behind his eyes. He'd assumed that the familiar weight was because of his helmet but these- Adam tugged hard, wanting to tear it out at the root, but all that happened was his headache getting worse. Yeah. That was real.

"What the fuck." Adam swiftly crossed the rest of the room and grabbed the mirror. His eyes darted rapidly back and forth as he took in the changes to his head and face; the new horns and the stupid ears and-

Adam yelped and spun around with a hand clutching his chest.

"Fuck! You scared the crap outta me, don't do that." Adam completely disregarded that Charlie had in no way snuck up on him. He still listened to her, his eyebrows climbing with each word.new

"Let me stop you right there," Adam cut her off mid 'yaaay' with a dismissive flick of his hand. "I don't need protection and I definitely don't need it from him. Are you forgetting who I am? I'm the Adam, bitch! I kill more sinners in one day than fentanyl does in a year!" Adam's voice pitched high and mocking; "Youw pwecious daddy ovew dewe," His voice dropped to its usual rough tone, "can eat a whole bag of dicks."

----

Charlie hadn't really registered what Adam was up to but she didn't expect to startle him. But of course he didn't seem to care. She knew this wouldn't be easy but she still deflated a bit. Yeah, Adam was an asshole, she knew that. And she didn't think he would be willing or accepting of the things she had to say. She took in a deep breath through her nose and tried again.

"Look, I know this isn't... ideal. For any of us. But you're here now! In Hell! And uh. I don't think yooou really get your position here. I-I know you're 'the Adam' but that paints a target on your back, you know?" Truthfully, she didn't know if Adam still retained his strength as an angel which would, admittedly make him at least partially able to handle himself, but in Hell? There would be no shortage of people aiming for him and if they worked together it would absolutely raze this place to the ground after they had just rebuilt it.

"Don't talk about my dad that way." A demonic edge laced her tone. She had low patience for Adam, but she was trying. But no one disrespected her dad.

Lucifer stepped in, placing a hand gently in front of her. "Let me handle this Char-char." He didn't like seeing Charlie agitated and he knew her kind and patient speech wasn't going to get through to a piece of shit like Adam.

"Listen here, fuckhead. I know you think you're still the same you were before you got fucking Skewered a million times. But uh, how do I put this nicely. You're fucking nothing now, Bitch. You're in my world now and none of your Angelic bullshit even works here. Go ahead and fucking try it."

"Dad!" She didn't want to encourage a fight. Maybe... Maybe this tactic would work? But she was still so worried, her stomach tied in knots. She knew her dad could handle Adam, but she didn't like to see this kind of confrontation all the same.

---

She really didn't know when to quit, huh? And here he thought that radio prick liked the sound of his own voice, sheesh!

When he'd first seen her all those months ago in the embassy, Adam had been glad that she looked nothing like Lilith. All he saw when he looked at her was Lucifer and it had made her so much easier to hate. Fun to mess with, too. She fell for all the tricks that the old cuckmaster had always been a little too wily for.

But now? He wished she was enough like her old man to know when to call it quits. This stubborness was all Lilith, definitely. Lucifer had at least known he'd lost all those years ago when he got banished.

Well, he had known. Charlie changed that, didn't she? Adam didn't know how that made him feel.

Adam rolled his eyes and scoffed. As Charlie tried to explain his 'position' (on top like always, duh!) he mocked her with nonsensical high-pitched 'blahblahblahs', his hand making yapping motions the whole time. When she finally finished, he stuck out his tongue with a 'bleh.'

Oh, wait. Things were getting fun now. Adam's eyes narrowed and his smug smirk widened into a full grin.

"Or what?" It took only the barest flicker of movement for his eyes to snap to Lucifer. "Aww, here comes daddy to the rescue-"

Adam's shocked face was priceless. It took him a bit to recapture his bravado and puff back up. His useless wings fluffed up to make him look bigger than he already was compared to the devil.

He immediately turned away, his side facing the pair so he could still watch them, and struck a pose by pointing at a piece of particularly ugly decoration.

Nothing happened.

"Uhhhh!" Adam shook his hand as if it was a broken tool. "One second, gimme one second, this has never happened before-" He peered at his finger the way an idiot like him might peer down the barrel of a gun that wasn't firing. "What the fuck did you do to me!?"

Because it had to be their fault.

----

Charlie's eyes had narrowed at the mocking but she didn't expect him to have any respect for her anyway. Still, it was frustrating to be mocked like that. It pissed her off when demons dismissed her and it did now too. But it seemed something her dad said had definitely caused Adam to drop his bravado.

She had her hand clasped on her dad's shoulder, apprehensive. She didn't doubt when Lucifer said Adam didn't have his angelic powers anymore, but that didn't mean she didn't tense up when he tried. It was a relief that nothing happened and she let out a nervous breath.

Lucifer on the other hand just stood, both hands resting on his cane with a smug and even amused expression. "Having... Trouble there?" His tone was as mocking as his expression. He wanted Adam to feel Small. Height didn't mean Shit, especially when the power gap between them had only Widened. He took a couple steps forward, and chuckled. "Oh, we didn't do anything. Guess actions have Consequences, huh? Never had to experience those, did you?"

----

Adam slowly looked back to Lucifer and Charlie. There was something different in his expression, a look in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Even when he had fought Lucifer, he'd been defiant until the end- until he'd been stabbed in the back by that little gremlin.

Adam had never really been afraid before. Startled, yes. A little rattled? Of course. But there had never been a time in his life that he'd been truly frightened. Now, though, Lucifer's smile felt more like the bared fangs of a predator then the smug grin that Adam usually wanted to punch off his face.

Adam drew in a breath and got his shit together. This didn't really mean anything. He was still Adam. Heaven wouldn't abandon him like this.

He caught a glimpse of his reflection from the corner of his eye.

"FUCK!" Adam snatched something small and kitschy and threw it at the mirror. The shattered glass distorted his reflection and made him feel even worse. He hunched his back and mantled his wings around himself, full on ready to throw something somewhere between a temper tantrum and a nervous break down.

"This can't be happening. I'm the first fucking man! I've-" His voice cracked and he grabbed at his horns to confirm to himself they were still there, "I've never done anything to deserve this! I'm not some sinner piece of crap- I belong in heaven, not here. Not with you freaks!"

----

Lucifer took a step back to avoid any glass shards from the broken mirror and sighed. He knew immediately that at the very least Vaggie would come to check. Maybe that obnoxious radio asshole too. No, that wouldn't do.

"Hey, Charlie. I'm gonna take him elsewhere until the deal is done. Come up with some cover story for what happened to the Mirror and we'll be back when I got it." His tone was stern and serious and

Charlie nodded slowly. "Right...." She had been startled by it but she heard footsteps from upstairs now and it sunk in that this was actually a Bad situation to have the others see. "Right! Okay! I got it! Uhm, I can. I can figure it out... Just, be careful Dad."

"Don't worry, I can handle this." He gave Charlie a gentle smile before walking up to Adam and grabbing him by the collar. No time to be a bitch with an existential crisis.

It was not a moment too soon when Vaggie appeared at the veranda of the second floor and looked over to railing to Charlie and the glass scattered on the floor.

"Charlie! Are you okay? What happened?"

"Oh, uh. Just got a little too... Excited and ended up knocking some things over that cracked the mirror. Haha, clumsy me-!"

~~

Now they were Literally in Lucifer's house. It hadn't been properly lived in for a while, but it was clean enough to handle this mess. He unceremoniously tossed Adam at the couch in the living room and sat in the nearby matching armchair.

"Done having your fit?"

----

Adam was too consumed by his angst to notice that Lucifer was approaching. It was only when he was scruffed that he properly tuned back into the situation at hand.

"Huh?" Adam blinked dumbly. He had just enough time to register what was happening before he was thrown into a couch. Instead of trying to dodge, Adam chose to just use the remaining momentum to climb onto the couch and flop face first onto it.

"Yes." Adam answered snippily after a few seconds. "I'm now having a heart attack instead."

----

Well at least he wasn't having a tantrum. Did the sudden change of scenery knock him out of it? Hopefully. He didn't like dealing with this manchild at the best of times. Though it was gratifying knowing how pathetic and weak he was now. And Adam had seen it for himself too. "Oh, good. Let me know when you're done with that and we can..." he sighed. "Have a real conversation."

He said that but he was restless and he still didn't like Adam so instead of being an adult and having any kind of patience, he picked up a rubber duck from the nearby pile and tossed it at Adam.

----

Adam grunted. He didn't want to talk to Lucifer either. In fact, maybe if he ignored him long enough Lucifer would go away.

The duck squeaked as it bounced off of Adam and into the back of couch and then fell back on Adam's back between his wings. Why have you betrayed it like this, father?

Adam grunted.

"Bruh," Adam lifted his head and squinted at Lucifer. He looked terrible. His face was mostly unchanged from when he'd been an angel, but for the rectangular pupils and sheep-like ears. But the bags under his eyes and unkempt appearance had been joined by bloodshot eyes and red lines on his face from the couch. "Did you just throw a rubber duck at me? Have some respect for the dying, asshole."

----

Adam, the guy who's pride almost rivaled his own at times, was feeling sorry for himself as he lay on his couch. Lucifer couldn't help but find the humor in this and let out a single chuckle. He almost felt bad for the duck though. At least Adam didn't try to break it or something.

"You're already dead twice over asshole, you're not dying again. At least not so easily. You see sinners are resilient. And that's what you are now. Get it?"

----

"Mm." Adam propped himself up on his elbows. Maybe someone would have expected him to throw another fit or attack Lucifer... but he'd figured out that this wasn't the sort of situation he could brute force his way out of.

"Is it because I died in hell?" Adam looked at Lucifer with an uncharacteristically serious expression. Then, he said something that he hadn't even realized had been bothering him; "None of my girls came back. Just me."

He rolled the rubber duck off his back and into his hand with his wing. Instead of crushing it or throwing it, he just held it.

"Angels don't become sinners but," It sounded like he was pulling teeth just to admit he wasn't perfect. "I have a human soul."

So it wasn't his fault. It was the fucking... radiation or something that hell had.

"Okay. Got it. I'm a sinner for now or whatever." Adam looked at the duck instead of Lucifer. "This blows, man."

---- This was probably the calmest Lucifer had ever seen Adam. All his bravado was gone and he seemed... Small. Like Lucifer had wanted. Good. He didn't have sympathy for him, he didn't care about his problems. He crossed his legs and leaned to one side of the arm chair, propping his chin up with a hand.

"Look, I'm gonna be real with you. This is a first. Angels dying is new to us, and, well, a human soul getting a second afterlife is also new. You've done enough shit this time to get stuck down here with the rest of us and pretty sure you're not going anywhere now. So you might as well get used to it."

And he was absolutely Watching Adam's hands like a hawk. He was being gentle with the duck and that kept him from getting more on his bad side at least.

---- All Adam heard was Lucifer admitting that this had never happened before. He latched onto that one crumb of hope like it was the only thing he had because, well, it was.

"You're right!" Adam shot up with all the energy he lacked just moments before. "This is some kind of freak accident! And that means nobody knows I'm down here, they all think I'm dead!"

Adam looked to Lucifer with manic eyes.

"I have to report to the embassy. If I tell someone I'm alive then I can go back to where I belong." Trying to appeal to Lucifer, he kept ranting; "That's the best option for all of us, right? You don't want me here anymore then I do."

----

Lucifer rolled his eyes. Of course Adam was all gungho about this now. Of course, he wouldn't let that happen. Did Heaven even have a new Ambassador for Hell now that Adam was dead? Had they even bothered to figure that out? He had no faith in Heaven so he doubted it.

"You're not an Angel anymore, Adam."

The words were cold, spoken coldly. And the accompanying gaze held none of the usual jovial playfulness. He had One goal right now and if Adam thought he had any other choice, it would make it even more difficult.

----

Maybe it was the directness of the words or the cold manner in which they were spoken that did it but either way, Adam listened. His wings slumped.

The reality of the situation was finally starting to sink in. He didn't want to accept it but he wasn't so stupid he'd keep beating his head against a brick wall. Above all else, Adam was motivated by his own self-interest and his survival came first and foremost in this situation.

But first, a little bit of self-pity was called for.

"I'm fucked." Adam dropped his head into his hands. "I'm soooo fucked."

----

It seemed the seriousness of the situation was finally sinking in. Good. Lucifer stood up from his chair and strode up to Adam. His expression was still serious, but not quite as harsh as before.

"Yeah, you are. Heaven ain't taking you back and Hell, well, most of Hell would love to string you up and watch you struggle through whatever depraved shit they could come up with."

And now the more familiar playfulness was returning. "That's why you should've listened more closely to Charlie. She had a solution for you. One that would, more or less, keep Hell from ripping you to pieces over and over for Eternity."

----

Adam could have argued with that first point but he knew Lucifer was right about the rest. He would never get out of hell if he was pounced on by the first sicko with an agenda the second he left this mansion.

He… honestly wasn't too familiar with what that depraved shit could be. The most 'depraved' thing he had seen in his long life had been some of the Angel Dust porn one of his exorcists had found and brought to heaven. He'd wanted to let her keep it but Sera had gotten all tense about contraband and made him confiscate it. He'd given her the real sick shit to destroy and hid the rest under his mattress. The exorcist had been stoked when he told her.

She'd died while the shield was up. Adam wished he killed that radio prick when he had the chance.

"Yeah, I heard her." Adam sank back against the couch. "A deal with you…" His melancholy expression twisted into sardonic anger. "Because that ended real well for Eve, right? Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

----

Lucifer stepped around to the back of the couch and leaned over it, chin in hand again. "Tell me, what other choice do you think you have?" Adam could protest and be pissed about his non-option, but that didn't change the fact that it was a non-option.

Charlie wanted to protect Adam, give him a chance. Lucifer loved his baby girl but she sure had some weird morals and ideas. And he had already vowed to do anything that helped her with them. His own feelings were always going to be secondary to this. And that was the only reason he had to corner Adam and force him to make the deal. Letting him out without it and at the risk of getting his ass got by any sinner or demon out there wasn't an option for him either.

----

Adam did not like Lucifer being behind him. He twisted awkwardly and painfully to make sure that he wasn't too vulnerable in front of the devil. He was a little jumpy about having his back turned to people now and especially to the most hated being in creation.

"I could die." It's obvious from his facial expression that Adam doesn't consider that an option. He chews on that for a bit. Death or Lucifer, huh? At least until he can find a way back to heaven…

"So if I make a deal with you, you'll protect me from the demons." Adam leaned back. "What do you get out of it?"

----

Lucifer hummed, knowing that Adam wasn't actually considering that. Not Adam, he was going to inflict his existence on people for as long as he possibly could. That was one thing he was sure about. But when the question came back to him he waved his hand a bit dismissively.

"Well, mostly I'm doing this for Charlie. But in terms of, I guess, formalities, it'd be… 'I lend you my protection so no one will harm you so long as you're in hell or else they'll have to deal with Me, and you know how powerful I am, and in exchange you behave for the people at the Hotel and I get your soul.' Something like that."

----

Adam blanched.

"My soul!?" Of course Heaven's poster boy wasn't taking that well. He looked like he was on the edge of deciding to try his chances in a mad dash for the embassy. He was so distressed that he only barely picked up on the implicit threat of Lucifer's power. "You want me to sell my soul to you!? You're the fucking devil!"

----

"Yeah, no shit I'm the fucking Devil. That's exactly why I'm your best bet is this shithole. No one is gonna fuck with me. Or whoever is under my care." He was getting exasperated, and his patience was already Paper thin.

"You don't know shit about this place. All your angelic powers are gone cuz you're not a fucking Angel anymore. You don't even know what you can do as a sinner yet. And that means you're more vulnerable than you've ever been in your entire existence. Your soul? It ain't going back up, that's for sure. You're already here. Hell is forever, I think Charlie told me you said. So either you spend that forever with the best fucking security anyone in this place could possibly get, or you spend forever getting passed around and fucked and killed by randos."

----

Yikes. Someone was grouchy. Adam personally thought Lucifer didn't have the right to act all pissy about this. Adam was the one who got stabbed to death by a psycho! And now he was stripped of his halo and forced to rely on his oldest enemy for survival.

And maybe Adam would have still decided to try to fight if he hadn't already learned his powers were gone. If he hadn't already spent a half hour hopping around like an idiot trying to take flight with clipped wings.

That was another thing. Adam didn't know if Lucifer already knew this but… Well, it was a helluva lot harder to escape angry sinners without his wings. It wasn't like he'd been doing much cardio in heaven.

He was fucked over either way. But at least Lucifer was offering him some say in how he was getting fucked over. A chance to set terms or whatever. And quite frankly Adam didn't relish the idea of being literally fucked by randos. They'd do worse to him, he was sure, not only in the name of revenge but also whatever sick shit these freaks got off on.

"Fine." He bit out through grit teeth. "I'll do it. I'll make a fucking deal with you and play nice for your kid and all her little friends." He leaned closer to Lucifer. "Happy? You've finally dragged all three of us down here with you."

----

"Oh, yes. Very." Lucifer grinned. Fucking FINALLY. While his mind was now very quickly wandering onto Other ways to complete the set, he knew he needed to get the contract done Before all that. Man it'd been a while since he'd drawn up any sort of contract. He'd been more than out of the game for what felt like eons.

But he snapped his fingers and a golden scroll manifested, a bright red pen with it, filled with a red ink that matched the rest of the writing on the scroll. "You can read it, but I don't think you have the patience~ But I am a man of my word. No secret clauses or anything like that. Just what we've already verbally agreed on, but on paper."

----

Adam gave Lucifer a deadpan look.

"Yeah, I'm sure there's nothing weird hidden in the fucking fine print. Do you even know the shit they say about you up there, man?" Still, that didn't go entirely against what he knew of Lucifer. In all of their dealings during his tenure as ambassador to hell, Lucifer had been for the most part honest and straightforward. Adam had always assumed it was because Lucifer didn't like the sinners anymore then he did.

He squinted at the scroll. It wasn't that long and yet he couldn't make himself focus on it for more than a quick skim through. He tried. But after everything he'd been through in such a short amount of time, his hands were shaking with nervous energy and the words just wouldn't stick in his head. It was too short for Lucifer to have hidden anything, right?

… Right.

Adam took the pen and tried to will his hand to stop shaking. He felt sick. No matter what anyone might say about his character, Adam had always been loyal to heaven and to the angels. This was a betrayal that left even someone as self-centered as him grappling with the unfamiliar feeling of guilt.

He'd hated Vaggie so much for betraying them - for betraying him - and yet he was now doing something far worse. A deal with the most hated being in creation.

"… I'm gonna sign it." Adam closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing. "I just need a second."

----

"I'm sure I can guess." Lucifer didn't like Heaven and had no doubt they spoke hatefully of him if ever he did come up. Probably mostly lies, honestly. He stood up and walked back around the couch to stand in front of Adam, waiting. Oh, he was sure it wouldn't be easy.

"Yeah, sure, take your time. I got all day." Well, since things were winding down a bit, maybe he could try being at least a little bit of a host. "Hungry? Thirsty? I can get you something."

----

Adam's feathers ruffled up. He cracked open one eye and gave Lucifer a dirty look.

"If I even think about food I'm gonna blow chunks all over your ugly carpeting." Adam half-threatened, half-warned. "Check back in after I've finished committing the ultimate sin, 'kay?"

----

Lucifer held his hands up is a dismissive manner. "Okay, okay fine. No food, got it." He walked back to the chair he sat in earlier and sank down, eyes still trained on Adam.

Until he felt his phone go off and saw a text from Charlie. Aw, his wonderful daughter was checking in on him! His demeanor drastically and obviously changed to being much more chipper and happy as he texted back. Just a little update that they'd come to an agreement and now he was just waiting for him to sign the contract! They wouldn't immediately head back to the hotel though. He wanted Charlie to have enough time to prep things after all! At least that was the reason he was giving her.

----

It was a relief when Lucifer finally found something else to stare at. Adam watched him long enough to see his sudden change in demeanor- the ex-angel looked away with a scowl. Was he texting a girlfriend or something? Adam wouldn't be surprised if someone like Lucifer had already moved on from Lilith.

Driven by his own petty need to at least make this less of a pleasant memory for future Lucifer, Adam took his chance to sign the contract while the devil was distracted. He made sure that his handwriting was sloppy and ugly too. He even considered dropping the pen in the couch cushions before deciding to drop it on the floor by his feet instead.

"Done." Adam watched the contract instead of the devil. He sort of expected it to burst into flames so he made sure to lean back as far as he could without hurting his wings. "What now?"

---End Part 1---

[fregget-frou]

It’s been about a year since I posted a pose study with Angel and David so.. here’s another one!

I love how much they’ve evolved from last year,,,

[moeblob]

[myriadxofxmuses]

"I feel the same way about touring. I love to fly," Gage only half joked.

While it was his preferred method of travel, being on tour made him feel free. Even on their strict schedule. It was the one time Gage didn't have to worry about being followed by cameramen. Or that his newest relationship was going up in flames because he couldn't commit - ironic considering the amount of commitment it took to be a musician. He didn't have to think about much while he was on the road, everything except his down time taken care of and when he wasn't working he was allowed to do anything he wanted. What could be better than that?

Liam couldn't help but notice the way he spoke of dancing was like he'd lost a loved one and the tinge of sadness to his smile all but confirmed the suspicion that his career was somehow tainted. He didn't pry however, the setting far too impersonal to dig. The quietest member of the group continued to observe as he started eating his dish.

"I'm a bottomless pit man," Silas proudly admitted as he ate, tapping his stomach in added confirmation. "Been that way since I was a kid. It doesn't matter what I eat, I rarely gain weight. Trust me. I've tried," he continued through another bite.

When he was a young child, it hadn't really mattered, but once his family broke away from the commune and filtered back into society, Silas had was in his teens, jumping straight in to public school after being homeschooled his entire life. Not an easy leap. Especially being a new kid with lots of rumors about your family and their previous lifestyle. Add in scrawniness and a propensity for less conventional interests - namely rock music and the color black - and you can understand why his Midwesterner counterparts were exactly accepting. He'd tried his damnedest to beef up so he stood a chance when they fought him, but he burned off whatever he ate almost as he swallowed it. He was just thankful there was at least one other soul there like him and they could both spit in the face of their bullies where they both sat now. Metaphorically of course - although Silas wouldn't hesitate to make it a reality if they ran into each other now.

"S'there food at every bar in Korea?" Gage asked with genuine wonder as he took a bite.

"I never would have pegged you as a dance teacher," Liam said as he took one of the anchovies and ate it without issue - he in fact didn't mind the saltiness of the fish. "Especially after hearing your demo," he added in compliment.

Silas' eyes widened with the arrival of the rest of their food. "This is more like it," he said softly as he began to dig in. "What made you decide to get into that?" he asked Jiwon through his first bite. "Ballet stuff," he added for clarity with a small flourish of his hand.

Gage and Adam started in on their own dishes, the lead singer pleasantly surprised with his meal. Adam was just happy to have food other than fish. And it was all delicious. "You really know how to pick," Adam said with a raise of his fork - never able to quite get chopsticks down. "This shit is good as fuck," he added complimentary as he took another bite.