#and my storage isn’t as full as it has been in the past LOL

[kuiinncedes]

bro i think my phone camera and flashlight r somehow broken lol 😭

[jungkxook]

—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad. 

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?” 

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly. 

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you. 

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work. 

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[wannabecrypt-id]

A must-read IZ fic list, you say? 👀👀👀 Colour me interested

Ignorantly, I chug 2 of those Alani Nu drinks unaware they contain 200 mg of caffeine each. Thank you for the ask, I take no responsibility for the response.

🥴🥴🥴

INVADER ZIM FANFIC RECOMMENDATION LIST:

Rating Key:

Explicit Mature Teen General

50k words and up:

Cartography by Word-Spitting-Dragon [ZADR, 33/? chapters, 286k+ words]

“Resisty!Zim AU: When the Irkens start exporting dangerous goods outside of known Irken space, Zim and his fellow R.E.S.I.S.T.Y. members decide to take a look, hoping to expose something they can use to finally end the Irken Menace. But what lies out in the farthest, uncharted corners of space? And could it really help the rebel cause? ZADF eventually ZADR”

>Some characterizations are a bit different than I was used to, but I devoured this fic in 3 days so you know it’s good. Pretty sure it’s discontinued but it’s a satisfying read even so.

Nullified! by HedgehogSquadGoals [ZADR, 30/? chapters, 146k+ words)

“A live alien is better than a dead one! That’s Dib’s theory, anyway. When he discovers a half-dissected, somehow-still-alive alien in storage at his father’s lab, he resolves to bring it to full health and show the world that extraterrestrial life exists (and most importantly, that he's not crazy)! Though, the alien may have a few ulterior motives of his own...”

>I adore this fic. Look me in the eyes. I ADORE this fic. The plot, the characterizations, everything makes me salivate. It’s so good and it’s something I will sit down for 4 hours straight and just reread.

A Love like War I by lestat_wesker [ZADR, 22/22 chapters, 136k+ words]

“If Zim has to fix all the LIES they’ve been shamelessly spreading in Irk about him, he should just stop wasting time in the filthy, worthless, poor excuse for a planet, Urth.

Yes, he must leave immediately, and absolutely can’t be followed! He would have blown up this rock already if he had a little more time.

He can’t be followed, under no circumstance! Oh, no, not this time. And his plan must be indisputably perfect. No mistake can be made now. Nothing going horribly wrong is allowed! (Please, not this time…)”

>Such a good concept, such a good execution. There’s also a 2nd part… 👀.Dib and Zim forget about each other, and fate or coincidence or whatever the hell forces them back together. Also check out @/Tr33333’s art for this fic here (1, 2,)

IF YOU SHOULD BEG by hamletmustdie [ZADR, 19/19 chapters, 122k+ words]

“A failed attempt to please the Tallest's leaves Zim's PAK compromised by murderous malware that renders him unrecognizable. Dib is frantic to save him, left alone on a hostile planet he doesn't know - and with only hours to prevent Zim from killing them both.”

>Any fic with Dib in space has me swooning, so this is a must-have. Also! @/Tr333333 has art for this fic as well lol (1) (Basically, if they have fanart for a fic, I’d recommend checking it out….)

Being Tall Isn’t Everything by PAW_07 [No relationship, 12/? chapters, 60k+ words]

“Zim was about to destroy the world, his dying adversary at his feet … yet he doesn't kill Dib. He wants to use that cunningly huge head of his, especially now that they are both so tall. Now, years later, the newest Tallest finds himself in a web of secrets, the past, and the future seemingly tearing him apart. As usual ... this is all Zim's fault.”

>This has to be one of my absolute favorite invader zim fics. It features irken dib, as an amnesiac tallest who can’t remember anything beyond his reign. Oh my god it’s so good. I’m pretty sure it’s discontinued but… *clenches fist* it’s so, so good.

Below 50k words:

Dig Your Own Grave and Then Bury the Hatchet by dearqueer (plushrump) [ZADR, 5/6 chapters, 37k+ words]

“Alternatively Titled: In Which Zim and Dib Makeout and it Upsets the Balance of the Entire Universe”

>Maybe… maybe I’m obsessed with Resisty AUs…? I love Zim in this fic. So good. The notes from the first chapter start as follows, “vasquez can eat my entire asshole.” so, maybe give it a read.

Harder, Better, Faster, Taller by PatchWorkPoltergeist [RAPR, 3/? chapters, 34k+ words]

“Thus far, Elite Red's life had been a work in progress: constant improvement, higher performance, higher rank, and higher stature. The best of the very best. With the start of Invasion Season and Devastis training a new crop of Invaders, Red's plan was clear: Become an Invader. Attain glory. Get snacks. Go solo and never put up with other Irkens' garbage ever again.

It was a good plan. A foolproof plan. And then Purple ruined it. (Except for the snacks.)”

>I adore the writing style. Honestly, if I were you I would check out all of the authors fics. Seriously. Red and Purple are Irken elites, and I wish I could express how much I love everything about this fic lol.

Inside Out by Andystarr [ZADR, 3/3 chapters, 30k+ words]

“It was meant to be a simple information retrieval mission.

If things don't go to plan, Resisty Agent Dib can usually rely on his partner and best friend to swoop in and save his ass. When Dib survives a mission by the skin of his teeth and finds himself with nothing left of his partner but a PAK that he can't seem to let go of, he'll need to look within in order to figure out how to do the impossible.”

>Okay, so I would love to put all of their fics on here but, as I think it would be a bit tedious of you to read through all of that so I’ll just assure you all their fics are masterpieces. This is just my personal favorite, and it’s from the author of Vort Dogs so you know it’s good. It features Resisty AU Dib and Zim, and just… just read it, okay? (Also, listen to the podfic of Vort Dogs. I found and listened to it the other day and I love GeminiWishes’ voice for Zim)

Red Line by DarkAbyss [ZADE/ZADF, 1/1 chapters, 21k+ words]

“During one of their fights, Zim and Dib fall in the clutches of a mysterious alien species that seems to have a twisted liking for experimenting on their captives.

(Warning for Gore, Blood and sensitive images)”

>THIS FIC. The concept is so good. The writing is downright incredible. Yeah, it’s a little gorey so if fucked up anatomical experiments aren’t your thing you might wanna steer clear of this fic.

Analogous Colors by Ryntaia [RAPR, 1/1 chapters, 4k+ words]

“Four snippets of four stages in the life of Red and Purple, from birth to reign.”

>GOOD. Good. Read it.

A Mile in his Shoes by PAW_07 [No relationship, 1/1 chapters, 2k+ words]

“Dib is dead… at least that's what it seems like, yet Zim isn't cackling and taking over the world. He's silent, sad, and … like a boy trapped in another's shoes. Tallest Red can't help but wonder what's come over their once insane soldier.”

>One word… bodyswap. (Also love the tallest’s characters in this fic.)

Currently Reading + Personal To-Read List:

No Return by knockplease [RAPR, Lard Nar/Spleenk, 27/? chapters, 341k+ words]

“There comes a single moment that changes everything. A decision that must be made; and in that moment, one becomes fully responsible for course their lives will take. Every creature blessed with consciousness must face the point of no return.”

>It was so hard to find this fic. Thus far, it is so good and so worth it. I came upon it by dumb luck and obsessive prying into fic authors bookmarks.

Nova by Poludnica_Roksana [RAZR, ZADR, 11/? chapters, 82k+ words]

“After Zim crashes back into Dib's life, unfortunate circumstances force the two to flee to space. With the Irken Empire on their trail, the Almighty Tallest Red at the helm, how long can they really evade them? And how long before dark secrets are spilled?”

>Uhh full disclosure, I have only read the first chapter thus far BUT super excited about this concept. Pumped for some much desired razr as this is supposed to mainly be a razr fic.

Forced Perspective by opalite [ZADE/ZADF, 24/24 chapters, 121k+ words]

“Zim damages his PAK in a lab accident. It’s certainly nothing to worry about... as long as the Tallest send him those replacement parts before it starts seriously affecting his health. Zim’s injury and the resulting increase in his strange behavior inevitably sets Dib off, and his increasing suspicion and paranoia leads to an event that tips the delicate balance of their conflict wildly out of Zim’s favor. One way or another, everything is about to change.”

>I love all the art for this fic so much, I should have made reading this a priority long ago. I have only read the first chapter for this fic as well and it is so good. It is a sickfic though, so fair warning about that.

A Parade of Indignities by RissyNicole [ZADF, 30/30 chapters, 155k+ words]

“After inadvertently learning the truth about Zim's mission, a now fifteen-year-old Dib comes to a moral crossroads. Now, he must make an imperative decision to help Zim after an attempt on his life leaves the Irken in dire need of medical attention.”

>Another sickfic. A majority of those in the IZ fandom prolly already know about this fic. It is still on my to-read list so I’m sticking it here anyway.

Ehhhh I’ll shamelessly plug in my AO3 in case ya’ll wanna check out some of my bookmarks as some of them weren’t mentioned in this list. I might make a 2nd part to this sometime or edit this, but for now I can feel my heartbeat in my calves so I’m gonna crash 😘

(Please let me know if there’s any problem with the links)

[snickerdoodlles]

You have an upcoming old guard au and howl's moving castle au for patpran? 👀

i do!! :D the old guard AU was inspired by this edit by @/patprans because i went feral the second i thought of patpran being in love for 2000 years. its premise is 'what if pat and pran were immortal in bbs canon?' and runs from there. of the two AUs, it's also the one closer to being finished (nearly 8k long too! who am i even!!). i rly need to completely scrap the last 1.5k of the fic or so and rewrite it completely, i just havent been able to bring myself to do that yet lol. id love for it to go up before the month is out but...we'll see how well i stick to that plan 😂 💦

the howl's moving castle AU...well, if im in a fandom, assume i have a HMC AU. howl's moving castle is my favorite series ever (and Diana Wynne Jones my favorite author ever) and it really influenced a lot of my writing style in general, so i fall back into that universe quite often lol. the PatPran HMC AU will be called listen with your heart (dont have much in that tag yet, but. soon. i talked a little bit about the opening premise in the tags of this post though)

it's high school era!PatPran (specifically their senior year) and it starts with Pran accidentally attaching his revolving door to Pat's bedroom door instead of his own (always double check your maths kids!!) but he won’t be able to move the door to his proper bedroom one for Reason. so as you can see, Pran is Howl, Pat is Sophie, and Calcifer will be an OC named Fig, and i think ive made @jemmo cry over this AU no less than 10 times already. i dont know when i'll finish this fic because its getting um. Long. but its a big love letter to Pran's kindness, Pat's care, and knitwear, so I'm really pumped to share it when i can 🥰

and since it's going to be a lil while til its done, here's a little outtake (~1k) from the first time Pat meets Fig the fire ghost under the read more :D ~

):) (:(

No sooner does Pat reenter his room when he hears the tell-tale whistle-click of his door changing. All thoughts of changing out of his school uniform fly from his head as he dumps his schoolbag in his entryway immediately and turns on his heel to bother Pran. He grabs hold of his doorknob with an eager wiggle and after a quick mental count to three, throws open the door and lunges in.

Pat fully expects to fall onto Pran and get shoved back into his room with a shout and a scolding. But instead of Pran, all he meets is empty space. He stumbles into the home beyond his door with a gasp and--barely--manages to get his feet under him before he falls flat on his face. 

Pat gapes at the newfound territory in awe. He’s stolen glimpses of this room before, of course, but this is the first time he’s seen it. It’s a strange place; Pat had thought Pran now lives in a dorm at his new school, but this looks more like a full cottage to him. The living space has been converted into one large workspace, tables littered with half-finished projects, shelves crammed with textbooks and supplies, a cheerful fire crackling in a large fire pot beneath an open window. A small open kitchen is tucked into the corner and just past it, Pat can see a small hallway of doors open to bedrooms, a bathroom, and extra storage space. Everything smells overwhelmingly of spice and smoke that make Pat's nose itch like he needs to sneeze.

“It is a wizard’s space,” he murmurs to himself as he admires the strange room and begins to poke around. He’s never been in a magic workshop before--all the laboratories in school are firmly locked to only allow magiks in--but after he gets used to the overwhelming newness, he starts picking out little bits of Pran in the smiley faces decorating the spice jars and the animated faces on the strings of globe lights. Pat admires one of the faces making an exaggerated scowl at him with little inked huffs and giggles to himself. He resists the urge to explore more when Pran isn’t here, instead turning to the fire in the corner with a raised eyebrow. “Does Pran know you let me in?”

A grinning shadow of a face appears in the fire. It’s hard to make out completely, like Pat’s looking at something through the heated ripples of a mirage, but silvery flames emerge through the pink-gold flames of the fire’s body to form two mischievously slanted eyes and a jagged gash of silvery grin. It looks positively wicked, and Pat can’t help but grin back at it.

“Not many people see me, much less so quickly,” the fire ghost says. Its voice sounds like the hiss-spit of a burning wet log, but Pat gets the impression its pleased all the same.

“Did Pran say you could let me in?” Pat repeats stubbornly. He’s curious, but not that curious. Besides, it’s no fun breaking rules if Pran’s not there to scold him.

The fire ghost’s grin doesn’t falter. "You were always here,” it says in a pleased whine. A log in its pot cracks in a giggling spit of sparks. “I just opened the door.”

Pat purses his lips suspiciously. So that’s probably a no. He’s not sure a fire ghost will just let him leave if he goes about it directly though--and it must sense Pat’s plans, because the sharp whistle-click of the door changing sounds behind him, leaving Pat trapped until Pran gets back. Pat’s not annoyed by this, per se. He doubts Pran would let a fire ghost that would harm him or his guests into any home of his. It’s just embarrassing to be stuck here until Pran can come bail him out, and Pat had left his cellphone in the bag he dropped in his room like an idiot. He’s not sure what else he can do but wait though, not when the fire ghost offers him a seat on the stool nearby its pot and admires Pat with open curiosity.

"I’m Fig.”

“Pat,” he offers with a friendly nod hello.

“I know,” Fig says. It crackles with a little flare of warmth. “You’re the one Pran likes to visit.”

Despite his best intentions not to snoop, Pat can’t help but perk up with a pleased grin. “He said that?”

Fig lets out a series of spitting sparks and cracks that Pat thinks is supposed to be merry laughter. “Pran shares everything with me,” it says conspiratorially.

Pat raises his eyebrows dubiously. “Why would Pran tell anything to a fire ghost?”

Fig flickers sulkily. “I’m his fire ghost. Of course he shares everything with me.”

Pat laughs and leans closer, not hearing the door latch release. “Pran bound himself to a fire ghost? My Pran?”

Fig flares brighter right as a voice echoes coldly from the doorway. “Snooping, Pat?”

Pat whirls around with a sunny smile, and Fig echoes his greeting with a bright flare up that washes the whole room in warmth. “No! Fig brought me in, he said I was supposed to be here,” he rats out shamelessly, eyes glued to Pran.

Pran ignores him in favor of glaring at the fire ghost flickering big and bright just behind Pat. “Did he now?”

Pat lets out a small sigh from his nose. He’d known that must’ve been the case, but he had hoped...

“And I didn’t snoop,” Pat adds on mulishly. “I was waiting for you to come back.” Pat brightens with a gasp. “But you’re here now!” he says cheerfully, and dives for the nearest shelf full of books and jars to poke through.

“Ai, Pat!”

):) (:(

[kung-fu-headcanons]

hii!! love your stories sm. I was wondering if I could request some headcanons.

so, say Po, Shifu and the Five got hold of some footage from the Bao Gu Orphanage, and it basically shows clips of Tigress's life there and how she was treated; locked up in a small dark room for hours, everyone being scared of her, etc.

how do you think they would react to her childhood there?

I love angst >:)) and I love the team giving Ti the comfort she deserves.

YESSIR also tyyy I'm glad you're liking my stories it means a lot to me :)!

How they got the footage in the first place, well, the way I see most fit is that Po went in as a "volunteer" so that he could get close enough to the cassettes and see what really happened while Tigress was there

He's just a friend who wanted to help her out, he doesn't really understand boundaries all that much, not saying he's a bad person, he always wants to help but doesn't really know how to go about the best way? If that makes any sense at all?

Anyways, obviously Tigress wouldn't say anything, cuz it's still triggering for her, and Shifu said nothing as well a) to respect his daughter's his student's privacy, b) he didn't know the full story either, just saw she was neglected by the others

Btw the whole plan to get into Bao Gu Orphanage to get the tapes were devised by Po, with a bit of help from Monkey

Its a good plan since it won't raise suspicion either since Po loves working with kids

So Po is on a short break, and he goes into the storage room thinking the tapes would be in there, doesn't really make a whole lot of sense for them to be elsewhere

He's digging through some boxes until he finds some with the label 'Tiger' on it, these must be the ones!

He was gonna stuff them in his pant pockets but that would look really sus, so he leave the tapes exactly where he found them and once his shift is over, he gets them saying that he "left something there" and then takes the tapes back to the Jade Palace

He goes to find the cassette tape player and he's trying to be quiet about it but ends up dropping like everything- which brings the attention of everyone to the storage room

Only Monkey knows why Po is here, everyone else is like "Po what the funk"

Po just smiles nervously as he takes out the cassette tape player and says that he has personal stuff to do, obv nobody believed him so he had to say what he was doing

Shifu was not pleased with this because it doesn't respect Tigress's privacy, her childhood should be her to tell it, Po argues that he just wants to help and that not talking about it isn't gonna make the past cease to exist

So as the two are arguing Tigress steps in and says, Po is right, she can't hide her past forever, and it's time for her to acknowledge it, she'll feel better about it, too, besides, she had been thinking about it for a while now

They all go to Po's room, and set down the cassettes and player (I just realized tapes are audio only pls murder me) and they happened to have a visual screen as well so that was nice ig

So they watch the footage, and nobody says a word, not even Po, because the way she was treated, was literally how you'd treat a wild animal (ironic because they ARE animals)

It hits Shifu the hardest because he knew that she was being mistreated but he didn't know it was this bad

The others are righteously angry at the orphanage for doing this (mainly Viper and Crane lol) cuz like, she's a legit child?? Like, why does the fact that she's a "predator" species matter?? She's a KID, and the footage makes it clear all she wanted was a friend 😢

Viper (and Shifu and Po, for that matter) wants to go and give the orphanage a piece of mind, Tigress says there's no use doing that since the caretakers that used to work there aren't there anymore, they've retired

They all feel terrible for Tigress, and now they all understand why she responds to certain things the way she does

She's not at the orphanage anymore, she's got the Five, Shifu, and Po, they are her family

Finding out about Tigress's past actually forms a stronger bond within the team

Perhaps they would go to the orphanage and make it clear that no child is ever mistreated the way Tigress was again, but that's a story for another day...

[kyber-crystal]

➳ catch me || s.r

summary: in which you struggle to tell the difference between liking him as a friend or something more. until one fateful moment forces you to decide where you ultimately stand.

words: ~3.9k

warnings: mentions of death, blood, overused friends to lovers, slight enemies to lovers LOL

a/n: i suffered through this WIP for like, 3 mf MONTHS before i was finally able to finish it off. i feel so relieved. but i will warn you, it’s terrible

"Rogers."

"Y/N."

You exchanged curt nods with him as you went to grab yourself some water after attending a meeting with Fury. Ever since Sharon started showing up more often, you began to distance yourself from him because you know that lingering by will only make you feel worse.He doesn't know why you're acting so cold all of a sudden, but decides not to question it as it won't help the situation in any way whatsoever.

He was quick to break the awkward silence that had fallen. "Where are you being sent off?"

"We," you replied coldly. "Northern Europe. Got word of an arms trade happening tomorrow morning."

"Okay."

Footsteps were suddenly heard from down the hall and without warning, he tugged you forward by the wrist and pressed his lips to yours.

You didn't protest because you're still too shocked to fully register what's going on and 2) you actually liked the way he made you feel. 

Though you really weren't supposed to be.

"What was that for?" you breathed out as you both pulled away, breathless.

"Sharon," he replied simply, looking around for a moment. "She's been bothering me for the past few weeks and I had to do something."

"You just noticed?" you said, sarcasm lacing your tone as you looked out of the corner of your eye to see the blonde woman walking away. "She's been all over you since her recruitment."

His brows furrow together in confusion as he notices the darkened look in your eyes, but doesn't say anything. You toss him the black manila folder containing information on your mission for him to read, sitting down at the kitchen counter together.

"Infamous dealer carrying nuclear weapons overseas. Headquartered somewhere in the Arctic Circle, I think," you explained as he pulled out the wanted man's file. "Can be taken either dead or alive. We have to stop them from going through with the attack."

"When are we leaving?"

"Wheels up at 8:30 p.m. Should take about 6 hours...we're being flown in via helicarrier."

Great.

You just realized you'd be stuck in a plane alone together for 6 hours straight, when the very thing you were trying to do was avoid him.

You're mostly silent as you board the jet, securing your bags and weapons before taking your seat. Fatigue is tugging at your body and your eyelids grow heavy, although it isn't even that late. Without thinking about what you were doing, you rest your head against Steve's shoulder and close your eyes. He wraps an arm around your waist in response.

Before you knew it, the aircraft was hovering over the drop zone. The two of you got up and went towards the back, fastening parachutes to your backs as the gates dropped open.

"Stay safe out there," you blurted out as you glanced down at the base below you, then over at Steve. "Circle the perimeter and meet me inside. Don't die or I'll kill you."

"Yes ma'am."

Inhaling sharply, you gripped the straps of your jacket and squeezed your eyes shut, the dry wind whipping your hair in your face as you descended downwards.

With his icy blue eyes still imprinted in the back of your mind.

...

It was quite ironic seeing that you, an Avenger and a former SHIELD pilot that flew everywhere all the time, had a crippling fear of heights. The mere idea of being jumping out of planes and having to go on missions involving multi-story buildings shook you to your core, and it always took you at least a week to recover once you got back.

"Steve!" Your voice heightened to a shriek as you felt the plane's velocity increase suddenly. The crates next to you toppled over and you went crashing to the floor alongside them, barely managing to grip the armrest of something and pressing your back against the wall, feeling your head spin. The sticky warmth and stinging, white-hot pain in your side tells you that you were shot. You didn't need to look at the wound to know it wasn't pretty. "Where the hell are you?"

"Fifty yards away from the northeast entrance," he replied breathlessly. "I got nothing. You?"

"The weapons," you panted, "are on the plane!"

"Okay. Where are you?"

"On the damn plane! They're gonna detonate at any moment, I have to get this thing away from the city—I'm not gonna make it so I just wanted to tell you that—"

"Fuck, don't say that," he hissed. You know things were bad when Steve Rogers, the man that coined the 'Language' line, swore. "Just—hang tight, I'm coming for you."

"No. Just forget it," you shouted over the noise, grunting in pain as your head hit the side of a storage box, muttering a string of curses under your breath. "I can't afford for you to risk your own life for me. It's okay. Just leave me behind."

"No, I'm not leaving you!" he yelled back. "I'm not going back home without you."

"Steve," your voice was thick with tears, throat feeling tight as you swallowed back the sob that was threatening to erupt from your lips. You wipe a tear that slips down your cheek and cleared your throat. "It's okay."

"It's not okay," he says hoarsely, "I lost you once, and I'm not losing you again."

"There's no point, Steve. I'm going to die. This thing's on autopilot going God knows where at top speed and if there's any chance of stopping this thing, I gotta crash it. If you come and get me you're gonna die, too. You know Fury's not gonna like having to send out an extraction team to drag both our corpses back to headquarters."

"Y/N, don't-" His voice breaks and you swear your heart shatters into a million pieces. "Please, don't- don't say that. I'm gonna come and get you. You're gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay."

That was the last straw for you; and you lost it at those last words. Tears sting a steaming hot trail down your cheeks as you hastily try to wipe them away with your bruised and bloodied knuckles. "No, we're not. I don't think you understand. I'm over 30,000 feet in the air with no protection whatsoever. They're gonna shoot you down before you even have the chance to get to me."

You always told yourself you'd be willing to put your life on the line to save someone else's; to sacrifice yourself for the greater good. But now that death was looming threateningly close to you and staring you down, for the first time in a long time, you didn't know if you even wanted to leave and you were scared. Scared of what was to come if you really were to meet your end. Scared of what was to come at the end of the tunnel, what would happen when you were swallowed whole by death's bottomless, dark pit. You didn't expect your fate to approach so quickly, and it scared you more than you wanted to admit.

Being a superhero meant that making sacrifices were a must-do. You always knew you would need to give things up in order to successfully do your job. That one day, your time to die would come but you didn't know it would happen like this; so unexpectedly.

Now you realize people were right as they told you in your final moments, you'd see your entire life flash before your eyes. You blink and you're transported back to when you first joined the Initiative, skeptical of the six unfamiliar faces before you. But it only takes a matter of three minutes before Thor cracks a joke that has you all howling in laughter, and another one for Natasha to approach you and start a conversation. To you, her, and Steve on the run as fugitives of SHIELD as you conducted the search for The Winter Soldier. The heartbreaking decision of having to choose between your mentor and best friend in Berlin--which you realized, happened barely over a year ago. So many memories had been created in such a short amount of time and you didn't ever want to let any of them go. You couldn't bring yourself to.

You stumbled over, sliding into the pilot's seat and buckling up. Your grip around the controls were so tight that the barely healing cuts around your knuckles reopened and began bleeding again.

You let out a shuddering sigh, tapping several buttons overhead before reaching down to turn on your comm again. "Steve? Are you there?"

"Darling..." The pure agony in his voice only makes you feel worse. You've never heard the great Captain America in such a soft-spoken tone before, so you could only assume it took him a lot to get him into this state. "Yeah. I'm here."

"So..." you readjusted your grip and let your shoulders fall back, "...you remember that one time we took the subway to see Hamilton last weekend?'

"Last weekend? It was only last weekend?" Steve tried his best to keep it together, but his wavering tone gave it all away. "Feels like forever since we got a break."

"I know," you let out a broken laugh, "and then you wouldn't stop talking about it the entire way back? It got so bad to the point Tony had to forcefully shut off all the speaker systems around the compound because he woke up at 3 am to see you sitting in the kitchen, playing the soundtrack at full volume."

"But when he saw you dancing around in the kitchen while making lunch the next day, he couldn't keep doing that for any longer. You have an amazing voice."

"I don't know..." you sniffed, forcing a smile, "you're the one who's pretty good at singing and playing the piano. I think you got all the musical talent-"

"Y/N," he interrupted, "stop. Don't do this to me."

"Do what?"

"You're talking as if you're gonna die."

The gravity of the whole situation comes crashing down on you again. "...Because I am."

"No, you're not. I'm not letting that happen."

"I don't think you have a say in things this time, Rogers," your voice cracked. You shook your head. "I'm done for. God, I really hoped this wasn't how I'd meet my end. I hate heights. I hate the ice, I'm scared shitless of dying, I can't- I can't do this. But I have to. If I don't, millions of people will die and I can't have that on my conscience."

You sucked in a breath as you looked out of the corner of your eye to see you're falling, and falling fast. In a matter of minutes you'll be plunging through the surface of the ice and into the depths of the icy-cold water. There's no turning back now.

"Geez," you spoke up again, "this is like some repeat of '45. Is this how it felt? Knowing you were gonna die, but doing it anyway because you knew you had to do it?"

"That's not the same. It was a matter of chance that I made it at all. Chances are slim to none that you'll end up frozen in a block of ice for 66 years."

"See, it's hopeless," you sighed. "Go back. You need to go...or you're gonna end up filled with bullets."

"I'm not going back," he repeated. "Not without you."

"If you're gonna think of a plan, you better think fast-"

"Jump."

"What did you just say? Are you out of your damn mind?"

"I said, jump. There's no other choice. Look for an emergency exit...there should be one above you. Do you see it?" His voice was calm, gentle, as if he was speaking to a child, and it soothed you a bit. You muttered a quick 'yes'. "Alright. Pry that open, get out of there. I'm coming with the Quinjet right now, so hang tight."

As if he could sense your fear, he softened his tone a bit more, "Hey. It's okay. I'm coming for you. You'll be alright."

"It's like we're Romeo and Juliet," you managed to choke out in between a laugh and sob,  "except only one of us dies."

"Y/N, you're not dying." He couldn't mask the obvious pain in his voice. "Honey, I promise you're not gonna die. You're gonna be alright."

"Steve-" You let out an earsplitting shriek and scrambled to get a stronger grip as blaring alarms sounded throughout the aircraft. The impact of the hits nearly made you topple off and you clung to the side of the jet for dear life, praying to God you weren't going to fall off and crack your head open on an iceberg. "I got hit. They're tailing after me, you can't, I'm actually gonna fall-"

"Okay, okay, I'm here. Do you see me?" You turned your head to the side ever so slightly to see the Quinjet hovering below, but your heart dropped when all you could see were snow flurries blowing around - and zero sign of the super-soldier.

"No-"

"Just jump. I see you. I'm literally right below you, so jump, okay?"

"Are you crazy?"

"Do you trust me?" he yelled out, his voice carrying over on the frigid winds. "Y/N. Do you trust me?"

"But-"

"I've never let you down before and I sure as hell won't now. Trust me, Y/N, come on."

You pressed your lips together. You knew he was right. Either you made the jump now, or get filled with a dozen bullets and dying a brutal and gory death.

You finally bring yourself to look down again and there he is, a little closer this time. His gaze finds yours and suddenly, you're drowning. You might've been hundreds of feet apart but no distance would be able to extinguish his piercing gaze. His eyes were the ocean and you were lost at sea, lost in those endless pools of blue and losing yourself in him—the one guy who stuck by your side for so long and thought as nothing more than a best friend, a teammate until now. The one guy who took your breath away with his million-dollar smile every time you made eye contact.

In the one guy who you thought was just a friend, until you realized you were hopelessly in love with him - the Steve Rogers.

And now you weren't sure if you'd come out of this alive to finally tell him so.

You squeezed your eyes shut and let go. The wind whipping at your hair and face feels like a thousand tiny needles being jabbed into your skin and you swear if you kept your mouth open you would've puked - if you'd opened your eyes you knew you'd die from fear first before anything else.

But all those thoughts are suddenly put to a halt when you're stopped by a pair of strong, warm arms you'd sought solace in countless times before.

"Y/N, thank God you're alright, oh my god," Steve let out a shuddering sigh as he held you close, cradling your head against his chest. "I thought I lost you. Oh my god. Are you okay?"

"I just fell out of an airplane without a parachute and I have no idea how I survived."

His look of concern immediately turns into horror when he pulls his hand off your waist to see it come back covered in your crimson blood. His face falls. Then it hits you all at once, and you're overcome with a nauseating wave of dizziness - the aftereffects were beginning to get to your head.

The super-soldier hurriedly jammed a finger to his ear. "I got her. We're on our way back. Prepare the medbay; she's gonna have to be operated on as soon as we land."

"Yes, sir," a STRIKE agent replied from the receiving end. "We'll get right to it. Please have a safe flight home."

"Thank you."

Steve put the jet on autopilot so he could sit with you in the back, frantically applying pressure to your wound and doing his best to patch you up. But with each round the bandages made around your waist, the blood flow increased, seeping through the fabric. You didn't have to tell him directly for him to know you didn't have much time left and if he were to save you, you would need to get back home, fast.

...

As soon as Steve stepped down the ramp with your limp, unconscious body in his arms, he was bombarded by a flurry of medbay agents, who had you in a gurney and were wheeling you away within minutes. He tried to follow after them but Tony quickly grabbed his wrist and yanked him back.

"Let me go," he growled. "I swear to Odin, Stark, if you don't-"

"You can't follow her in there."

"I can if I want to."

Tony let out a sigh of defeat. "Rogers. She's going to be fine."

"How do you know? How can you possibly guarantee her survival?"

"I just know. Sheesh, you're a hopeless romantic."

...

You glanced over at the monitor tracking your vitals beside your bed, the constant beeping of the machines seemingly echoing in your brain on a loop. You were too exhausted to do anything at the moment, but you couldn't seem to fall back asleep, even with the drugs coursing through your system.

You try to shift around and find a more comfortable position, and felt a twinge of pain on your right side. Note to self; don't place all your body weight on the side where a bullet tore through your stomach. Bad idea.

Laying flat on your back again, you closed your eyes, willing yourself to fall back asleep. But sleep never comes, and a few minutes later a knock on your door pulls you out of your momentary trance.

"Hey there, soldier," you managed a sleepy grin as Steve stepped into the room, pulling up a chair to your bedside. "Nice weather outside, isn't it? Feels like just yesterday I was gunned down and forced to drive myself to near-suicide...wait, that was yesterday, right? I've lost all sense of time-telling-"

You paused and looked back over to see a rare sight - he was on the verge of breaking down. His bright blue eyes were dulled and glossed over with fresh tears that threatened to spill, and although it had barely been over a day since your admittance to the hospital, it looked like he hadn't slept in over a week. And it was all your fault.

"Are you okay...?"

He shook his head, clenching his fists in his lap so tightly that they began turning white. "You’re seriously asking me if I’m okay? I almost lost you. You almost died."

"I'm sorry-"

"If I hadn't gotten to you in time, then...I don't know what I'd do if-"

"Steve, it's not your fault."

"I let you down, Y/N." His voice was cracked and raw, as if he'd been crying for hours on end beforehand. Your heart shattered at the sound. "I let you down and I'm so sorry I couldn't get to you sooner. I'm sorry I left you alone on that ship because I didn't look out for you well enough. This is all on me. My job was to protect you, to look out for you. And I failed to do that."

"You didn't fail, Steve," you said softly. "You did your best. You saved me. I'm alive right now because of what you did."

The super-soldier inhaled sharply and moved his chair closer so he could reach his hand out to place it on your forehead, letting it stay there for a moment before sliding it down to cup your cheek. You didn't make any efforts to remove it and if you were being honest with yourself, you liked how his warm skin felt against your own. He smelled like honey and freshly ground coffee and everything good in the world. He made you feel like you were at home.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you let yourself bask in his warmth, melting into his soft touch. If it weren't for your currently uncomfortable predicament, you would've fallen asleep on the spot all over again.

"Something's on your mind, isn't there," you mumbled, eyes still closed. Even without your powers, it didn't take much for you to figure out that something was wrong. "Tell me what's going on."

You opened your eyes again to see that there were tears streaming down his face. He hastily tried to wipe them away with one hand as the other was gently placed on top of yours, but his efforts were fruitless, of no avail whatsoever.

"Steve-"

"I was so worried," he croaked out. "I don't want to think about how things would be if you died. I can't live without you."

"I'm here now, okay? I'm going to be fine. I'll heal," you said softly. "You saved me, you caught me, so now I'm okay. We're okay." You moved over slightly to give him room to sit. Steve's arms encircled your waist as yours slid down and over his shoulders, and he pressed his trembling lips to your temple.

It was quiet. Whispered oh-so-quietly, as if he was hesitant to open his mouth. But you heard it regardless.

"I love you."

You smiled sadly. "I know. I love you too."

"Just...please don't try and pull off something off like that again."

"I won't. I promise."

You heard each shaky inhale and exhale as he tried to regain his composure - strong arms tightening around your figure with his face buried into the crook of your neck. Letting out a trembling sigh, you held onto him even tighter as if by some miraculous way, doing so could keep him from falling apart. As if somehow, your arms being around him could squeeze all the million little shattered pieces of his heart back together again.

You knew deep down, exactly why he had been so afraid to watch you meet your potential end. It was the jet plunging into the depths of the icy blue, monstrous sea. He didn't want you to experience even a fraction of what he had and prayed you’d never have to. He swore a silent oath to himself to shield you away from as much of the horrifying world as he possibly could, but you were nearly dragged under by the clutches of Death herself that day, and he couldn't help but feel like he failed you.

You took in a deep breath, inhaling his fresh scent of coffee grounds and warm honey as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. For the briefest moment in time you could pretend everything was in fact, going to be okay, because it was just you and him wrapped up in each others' arms without a care in the world. It was just you and him, basking in each others' warmth, silent whispers of reassurance into his ear and repeated soft, fleeting kisses to his temple that reminded him you were still alive and breathing, and you were just fine.

For the first time in a long time, Steve Rogers felt whole again. The hole in his heart was gone, the void finally filled. And all it took was your presence, and your presence alone.

...

(if your username is striked out, that means i couldn’t add you)

general tags and mutuals who may be intersted (if your username is here, pls go check the taglist link in my bio to specify which specific taglist you’d like to be added to!): @sylvie-writes @zaddychris @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @sis-it-dont-add-up @tonystankschild @buckybarnesthehotshot @musicalkeys @carryonmywaywardbucky @thinkingofbuckybarnes @rynhaswritersblock @wheresmyjae @captainchrisstan @sandystoriess @patzammit @cicicantblog​

permanent tags: @sandwitch-god @renaissancecherub @poesflygirl

steve/chris tags: @speechlessxx @angrybirdcr @marvelfanatic16 @stainedsouvenir @smokeandnailz

[make-me-imagine]

⚡13 Days of Halloween: Day 7

Prompt: ‘It was a dark and stormy night’ 

Requested by: @spuffyfan394

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Gender: Neutral        Words: 1,603

Triggers: None        Genre: Casual + a little fluff

Supernatural Taglist: @kaashi​ 

Note: Halloween Theme - 4/10; based around Halloween, no real strict Halloween theme. I wanted so badly to make this spooky but for the life of me I could not come up with anything. So this is what I got. Why am I so bad at making things Halloween themed? like, is it really that hard? lol

If you’d like to check out 2019 and 2018′s 13 Days of Halloween, as well as my 2017 general Halloween/Fall stuff here are the links: x2017x, x2018x & x2019x

You hummed to yourself as you wandered through the bunker, it was a dark and stormy night, the lights flickered occasionally as lightning struck nearby, thunder rumbling trough the bunker.

Pausing in your step as you stared up towards the bunker roof, the walls and floors seeming to vibrate as the thunder roared, slowly rumbling on, getting quieter and quieter. 

Usually you found storms comforting or even exciting, but tonight it was different. Sam and Dean were gone, and you were alone. The bunker was big, and you kept getting the feeling that you weren’t alone. You figured it was just your own mind tricking you, causing you to exaggerate, like when you are watching a scary movie and you get the feeling someone is in your house when you know there isn’t. 

It certainly didn’t help that you had made the decision to decorate the bunker with Halloween decorations. Various decorations in the corners of the room catching your eye, end up only being fake skeletons or masks. Your overactive brain was simply pumping unwanted adrenaline through you.  

So, trying to ignore it, you focused on the rain, and the fact that Sam and Dean should be back soon. Hopefully. Just as you were sitting down at the kitchen counter, you heard a distant bang. You stopped, staring in the direction of the noise. Was that thunder? No. It sounded like it was in the bunker. Maybe something fell over? You had been rearranging one of the storage rooms earlier. That was probably it. 

Even as you ran through the possibilities that it was nothing, you moved to a nearby case, opening it and taking out one of your guns. Just in case. It is probably nothing after all. 

Hearing another sound within the bunker, your breath hitched in your throat, you realized it wasn’t something falling over, but a door opening and closing. Slowly walking down the hall, your hand gripped around the gun. Peering around a corner you see a shadow quickly disappearing around the end of the hall. 

Silently creeping down the hall, now knowing full well there was someone here, you were prepared to fight. Stopping just at the corner, you hear a door open, you recognized the area as your bedroom door. Hearing footsteps approaching your direction again you quickly round the corner, gun raised, ready to fight. 

Seeing the figure in front of you, you gasped out in surprise, just as the figure did as well. Quickly lowering your gun you audibly sighed out “Cas! Oh my God, you scared the shit out of me”

Castiel lowered his hands, which he had quickly raised in defense when you had rounded the corner. Adjusting his stance, he breathed out in relief as well “I apologize, I should have said something, but I didn’t see anyone here, so I was looking around for you, or Sam and Dean” he seemed to quickly add on Sam and Deans names, which he hoped went unnoticed by you. 

You took a deep breath as you turned to walk back into the living room “Sam and Dean are finishing up a case a couple towns over, they should be back later tonight” Cas nodded, though unseen by you, as he followed you. The sound of thunder echoing through the bunker again. 

As you entered the main room Castiel looked around the bunker at the various decorations “Ah, yes, Halloween is soon isn’t it?” 

You looked back at him, seeing him checking out the decoration “Yup” you watched him for a moment before turning away from him, having realized you were staring. 

You and Castiel had known each other for a few years now, only having grown close in the recent year. You had developed feelings for him, and sometimes you thought he might have for you, but other times he seemed indifferent. 

“Have you ever celebrated?” you asked him

“No, but I have observed various cultures interpretation of the Holiday over the last few hundred years” he commented, as if it was the most normal thing to do.

You smiled “Sounds interesting, I’m sure you’d seen a lot of unique things over the years” 

You fell into a casual conversation with Castiel as he talked about various Halloween traditions he has seen. The storm raging on outside was now pushed to the back of your mind. But as the wind grew much stronger, the trees closer to the bunker began swaying forcefully, the branches smacking into the windows. 

As you tried to ignore it by talking with Cas, there was a sudden crashing down as glass crashed to the floor. You and Cas both jumped in surprise at the sound. Quickly running towards the sound and looking up, you see that a tree branch smacked into one of the old windows upstairs hard enough to break it. 

“Shit!” you yelled as you ran towards the storage room, Castiel following. 

He watched as you pulled an old tarp from the shelf as well as some duct tape, before running past him. Running up the stairs and towards the window, seeing that the broken glass was higher up you cursed under your breath as the rain spattered in through the window. Turning at a clanging sound, you see Castiel approaching with two chairs. Setting them down, you both climbed up on the chairs, hanging the tarp and taping it to the walls. 

Finally managing to do so, even with the tarp flapping in the wind, you and Cas both stepped down from the chair. Looking at each other, you chuckled realizing you were both now soaked from the rain. Cas smiled at your amusement, watching as you looked back up at the window “Dean’s gonna be pissed” 

Cas looked at the window as well “At least he can’t blame you”

You nodded in agreement before turning towards him again, hesitating as you saw Castiel reaching towards you, gently he touched the side of your face, before pulling away a small leaf that must have blown in with the rain “Oh, thanks” ignoring the burning you felt on your face from the interaction you cleared your throat before turning away “Let me get you some dry clothes” Castiel smiled lightly as he watched you rush away, knowing full well what he just did, and seeing how it affected you. 

Now sitting in the main room of the bunker in dry clothes, Castiel took a sip of the cocoa you had made him “Thank you for the hot chocolate” 

You smiled at him, sitting down next to him, now in your own comfy clothes “You’re welcome” as an echoing boom of thunder rang out, you looked up towards the sound before sighing “As much as I love rain, I wish this storm would pass already” 

Cas nodded, also looking up “The thunder is less consistent now, I believe it is beginning to pass” 

Taking a sip of your cocoa, you considered something before looking at Cas, who was already looking at you. Though slightly surprised by that, you continued with your though “Would, uh, would you like to celebrate Halloween with us this year?” you asked somewhat shyly. 

Cas smiled at the invitation “I would be honored” 

You smiled at his choice of words “We are planning a Halloween movie marathon, complete with a sickening amount of candy” 

“Then it will be a new experience to add to my list” 

“Good” you smiled at him before looking down into your cocoa “Oh, I was wondering Cas, you never said what you actually came her for tonight” looking up you met his eyes, which held an unusual emotion behind them. 

He seemed to hesitate for a second, clearing his throat and looking away, suddenly becoming nervous “What is it Cas?” 

Thinking for a second, he met your eyes again “I, already knew Sam and Dean were on a case” seeing your quizzical look he continued “And, I knew it was very stormy here tonight, and, I just, uh, I knew I would feel better knowing you weren’t left alone.”

As you watched him nervously explain his reasoning, a smile formed on your face “So you wanted to make sure I was okay?” 

“Uh, yes” he looked up, and upon seeing the smile on your face, he seemed to relax “I know you can take care of yourself, but, I..worry, about you”

“That’s very sweet Cas. I’m glad you came. Thank you” 

Your eyes met again, something seemed to click in both of you, as you understood where each of you stood. The tension growing between your gazes was broken when the front door to the bunker swung open, causing both you and Cas to jump in surprise. 

“Damn storm!” you heard Dean yell out as he and Sam rushed into the bunker, now wet from the rain. 

As Sam and Dean entered they saw you and Cas resting on the couch “Well don’t you two look comfy” Dean commented as he walked past,

Sam smirking at his annoyed brother. “You guys alright?” you asked.

“I’m fine, but, uh, a tree branch fell and smashed the back window of the impala” he commented.

“Oh. Well. Then he certainly isn’t going to be happy about the window here” you commented, looking over at Cas.

“What window?”

Suddenly from the other side of the bunker Deans voice echoed “Aw, what the hell man!” 

“Same thing happened upstairs” you said to Sam who just sighed out as he turned and walked towards Deans curses. 

Turning you looked at Cas who was smiling fondly at you “Told you he’d be pissed.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Not sure if I like this one or not but whatever lol, hope you guys do.

If you’d like to be added to a taglist, let me know! :)

Please consider reblogging~ :) Comments and Likes are highly appreciated as well!~~

[floatingpetals]

Call of the Mountains || Ch. 6

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes (Werewolf AU!)

Warnings: Nothin, a little bit of language

Word Count: 3100+ 

Summary:  (Werewolf-AU!Stucky x f!reader) Life had begun to overwhelm her. Work was insane and her life was a mess. There was a tug in her soul that called her to take this trip, deep into the forest away, where there was the peace and stillness of nature. She didn’t know why, but she knew she needed to listen. It was meant to be a relaxing trip, but one misstep on some moss sent her tumbling into the rapids of the flooded river. She thought she was gone and the earth decided it was time to reclaim her. She didn’t expect was to be pulled from the river nor the creature that saved her. Her entire world is turned upside down and all it took was an accidental step to the left. (18+ Only Story)

A/N: Yaaaa! I started this during my move and just now finished lol. The move went smoothly and my roommates are actually really sweet. Now the fun part of emailing and begging for a job lol. The plan is to have a job by mid-March. I’m tired of hoping and dreaming. I’m going to get a job by mid-March. Just like how I was going to move to New York. This isn’t the year of hope and maybe. Its the year shits gonna happen. But back to the story, I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know what you think! ❤

The gifs are not mine, credit to the owner.

Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Series Masterlist

After Steve’s hasty retreat, Bucky and Y/N finished their dinner in relative silence. Bucky tried not to show how annoyed he truly was, but Y/N could tell from the tenseness in his shoulders that the interaction bothered him more than he let on. It also could have been how he was aggressively stabbing at his meatballs with his fork.

The sun was beginning to set when he led her out the back door. He was explaining something to her about his house, she wasn’t paying attention when a strange feeling washed over her. Y/N froze on the steps down when she felt a pulse, the hairs on her arms standing on end. She sucked in a sharp breath when a strange wave of blue light came from under the wooden steps and passed along the tips of the blades of the grass in front of her. Y/N watched in alarm as the thin glowing line moved at a leisurely pace, breaking around Bucky’s feet before connecting once passed by. She watched with morbid fascination as the light did the same with the trees, rocks, and houses before it disappeared out of her line of sight. It was pretty, she thought distantly, if not completely unnatural and in every way terrifying.

Bucky hadn’t noticed her stop, too busy talking about Natasha and her antics. When he didn’t get an immediate response, he turned back to Y/N where she still stood on the stairs, her eyes wide in terror. Frowning, Bucky walked back the short distance.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” He asked gently. Y/N’s tried to open her mouth to reply, but she found it hard to find the right set of words. It only caused Bucky’s worry to grow the longer her silence went on. “Y/N?”

Gently, he placed his hand on top of hers. She jumped and her eyes drifted to his in a haze.

“I-.” She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. She wanted to tell him about the light, to badger him until she got the answers she wanted. Every fiber in her being was screaming for answers to whatever the hell this place was. Completely reasonable in her opinion. Clearly, this place wasn’t exactly human. But so far, she hasn’t managed a straight answer from any of them. The uneasiness settled like a rock in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t tell him. She was alone in this. Clearing her throat, Y/N finally replied. “Nothing.”

Bucky cocked his head to the side and eyed her curiously. He knew she was hiding something from him. He could smell the change in her emotions, sharp and bitter like burnt cinnamon. She was nervous, a touch scared and incredibly uncertain. It made the wolf inside him restless. He had to bite back the whine ready to burst from his chest, startling himself with its reaction. His wolf never did that, always letting him take the lead. Bucky immediately dropped his hand back to his side, needing to let sever that contact between them.

“If you sure.” He said slowly and took a step back. Y/N hesitated to step on the grass, her thoughts gnawing at the back of her mind. Bucky watched her inner turmoil, his scowl growing the longer she hesitated and the heavier her scent grew. Bucky was ready to step in, but whatever hesitancy Y/N was stuck in, she shook it off and pushed forward.

Forcing a shaky smile at Bucky, Y/N stepped down onto the grass. If he noticed the shake in her fingers and the way her smile didn’t reach her eyes, he didn’t mention it. He waited for her to follow, and the two fell in line as he led her to his house along the dirt road.

“I hope you like the room. We don’t usually have guests, but it’s always set up in case my parents come in to visit.” Bucky said to fill the quiet.

“Oh, you’re parents live someplace else?” Y/N perked up at the topic change, willing to take anything to get her mind off things.

“Yep. They used to live here, but they moved to Arizona a few years back. Somethin’ about needing a warmer climate.” Bucky chuckled and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Steve’s ma still lives here, but she’s got her own place further up the mountain. She’ll come up every Sunday to have breakfast with us before she goes off to shop in the town though. So really the guest rooms are just used as big storage rooms.”

“Well at least you have someplace for them to stay.”

Bucky snorted. “It makes it harder to get rid of them when they do come to visit. What about you? Where are your parents?”

“They’re living in a suburb right outside the city. Not too far from where I live so, I can go visit whenever I want. Not that I get much of a chance with my job.” She rolled her eyes. Bucky raised a brow.

“Oh? Don’t like your job?”

“It’s not that, entirely.” Y/N let out a heavy sigh. She noticed the road they walked down led away from the clearing and into the thicker forest. Despite not knowing the slightest idea where she was, she didn’t feel an ounce of unease being with Bucky. It was just the forest that freaked her out. “I like it well enough, but it’s just… A lot. It’s actually why I decided to come out here for the week. To relax and get away from the hustle and bustle. Doin’ a bang-up job of that.” She remarked dryly and glared at her wrist. Bucky laughed softly and shook his head, his pretty grey eyes dancing with mirth.

“Has it been everything you’ve hoped and dream?”

“Oh yeah.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Everything’s going according to plan.”

Bucky nudged her with his shoulder, smiling widely at her. It was nice to see her joking in such a short amount of time, all things considered. He turned right on a road and led them up a steep hill. The further they went up the mountain the thicker the tree line grew and the steeper the incline became. She also noticed the way the road cut through the trees but didn’t take more room than necessary to make way for the road. It was clear to her they wanted to blend in the environment. Almost as if they were hiding.

Eventually, after Y/N realized without a shadow of a doubt she was not in shape enough to be traipsing up the side of a mountain, the road lead them to what she assumed was Bucky’s and Steve’s house. Y/N stopped at the top of the road and hunch over with a wheeze, bracing her good hand on her knee. While she struggled to breathe, she caught sight of Bucky out of the corner of her eye. He didn’t look slightly fazed by their climb, not a single hair looked out of place.

“You all good?” Bucky teased. She glared at him and stuck out her tongue.

“You shush. Mountain boy.” She grumbled. Now that she wasn’t gasping for air and her side stopped cramping, Y/N looked over to the house.

It was smaller in size than the main building, but not tiny by any stretch of the word. It was a magnificent two-story wood cabin with a balcony and a wraparound porch perched near the cliffside, the back of the house overlooking the clearing below. There were a couple rocking chairs sitting out on the porch, and a few wooden tables between them. It looked straight out of a travel magazine. The house was adorable, quaint and screamed ‘lumberjacks in the woods.’ 

“It’s nothin’ fancy but it gets the job done,” Bucky said sheepishly. Y/N shot him a baffled look.

“What are you talking about? I love it!” She exclaimed.

Bucky’s ears went pink and he grunted in response, kicking the dirt with the toe of his boot. Her praise made his heart skip and the wolf inside him practically purred in response. An echoing rumble behind them made him pause and glance up at the darkening sky. The clouds off in the distance looked threatening and dark. It made Y/N’s stomach drop.

“Huh.” Bucky clicked his tongue. “Wasn’t supposed to rain for the rest of the week. Let’s get inside and I’ll show you your room.”

Y/N sent the clouds one last concerned glance before following him inside. She was surprised to see the inside was actually decorated tastefully, if not on the simple side. The front entryway led straight into the living room and she could see the kitchen and dining room off the left. There was a large black couch with a few blankets tossed on the back, a love seat and a giant flat screen tv mounted on the wall above the fireplace to the right. Dark shades covered the wall of windows, similarly like the main house. She wondered if the view was as breathtaking as she thought it would be.

“Kitchens there on the left, feel free to anything in the fridge. The TV has full satellite, so you're welcomed to use it and watch whatever you want. I just warn you not to delete Steve’s recordings of Chopped. He might have a meltdown again.” He chuckled unabashedly. “Steve’s room is upstairs to the left with the second spare room and mine is on the first floor here down this hall. Yours is right across from mine. Don’t worry. You’ll have your own bathroom down the hall so you don’t have to share with little old me.”

Y/N giggled at the wink he sent her way and followed him down the hall. He showed her the bathroom before leading her to her room.

“If I assume right,” Bucky began as he opened the door. “Ah, yeah, she grabbed it.”

Sitting on the floor next to a desk against a window was the backpack Y/N hadn’t realized she had been missing. She had other more important things to worry about than the pack, not like it contained anything valuable anyway.

“Natasha had taken it while you were unconscious and tried to dry what she could.” Bucky leaned against the door frame and glanced around. Y/N stepped in and headed towards the backpack. “You said you were camping near here?”

“Huh?” Y/N paused her shuffling through the pack. Her books, while crinkled, had been dried and the bookmark returned in place. “Oh, yeah on the nature reserve. I don’t remember the campsite number, but it was the closest to the waterfall. Hopefully, no one steals my stuff, or well, my dad’s stuff.”

Bucky nodded slowly, his brow creasing in thought. He shook his head after a moment and nodded to the stack of clothes on the desk. “Well, Natasha’s made herself at home and grabbed you some of my shirts and pants for you. There’s towels in the bathroom closet and I think there’s some conditioner and shampoo from when Becca stayed over.”

“Becca?”

“My sister.” Bucky sighed, sounding annoyed but the small upturn of the corner of his lips told Y/N he really wasn’t as bothered as he sounded. “She likes to drop in from time to time, unannounced of course.”

Y/N turned to ask more about his family, however, Bucky’s head snapped up and spun to glare down the hall. He wiped the emotions on his face, his features shifting into irritation. Y/N heard a door open and slam closed, the force rattling the house. She sent a worried look down the hall. She didn’t have to see who walked into know just who it could be. Bucky let out a slow calming breath and sent Y/N a strained smile over his shoulder.

“Make yourself comfortable. I need to go… handle something.” Bucky muttered before spinning at heel and stalked off towards the sound. Y/N was fully aware he meant he had to handle a certain someone. Letting out her own heavy sigh and went to pull a shirt and pair of pants from the neatly folded stack.

Now that all the excitement was over, Y/N wanted nothing more than to get out of her river water dried clothes and wash whatever dirt and grime was left in her hair. She stopped and stared at her splint with a scowl. She couldn’t get it wet, nor did she want to take it off and risk injuring herself further. It be would be easier if she could wrap it up but didn’t see anything in the room. She was already picturing the gymnastic routine she’d have to perform to make this work.

Groaning, Y/N grabbed her clothes and went to the bathroom. She stopped short when she noticed the box of trash bags sitting on the counter along with tape, body wash, a brand-new toothbrush, toothpaste, and a shower cap. Laughter bubbled out of her mouth. Natasha really did think of everything. Chuckling to herself, Y/N shut the door to start her shower, effectively cutting her off from the storm happening in the living room.

Bucky didn’t mean to leave her so abruptly. But when Steve walked up stinking of rage followed by slamming the door, he needed to say something. He might not like the situation, but he wasn’t going to take it out on her.

“What the fuck is your issue?” Bucky snarled, cornering Steve in the kitchen. Steve turned from where he was searching in the fridge and glared at Bucky. He growled low in his throat, baring his teeth at the other.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve snapped back and grabbed a beer before he slammed the fridge door shut.

“Would you quit doing that?” Bucky hissed, his face twisting into a snarl. “And the hell you don’t. I could smell you before you even walked in the door. You’re pissed and taking it out on the house cause you know I’ll skin you alive if you take it out on her.”

“So you think,” Steve grumbled and downed half the bottle.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at Steve and stalked around the island to stand toe to toe with Steve. Steve glare never wavered as he lowered the bottle from his lips. There wasn’t much of height difference, maybe an inch or two, but Steve still managed to accomplish looking down his nose at Bucky.

“The thing is, I do.” He growled. “You aren’t that fucking subtle Rogers. Especially since your doin’ a bang-up job at keeping your alpha macho on low. Just because you don’t like having a human here doesn’t mean you need to be a little shit. Thought you’re Ma raised you better.”

Steve snarled and shoved Bucky back, or at least attempted to. Bucky didn’t budge, his hackles rising and teeth snapping in retaliation.  Anyone else might have buckled under the strength and secretly Bucky was surprised by how much force behind the shove, but he wasn’t an alpha for nothing.

Bucky was right once again. Steve was really hating hearing that phrase in his inner monologue. He was losing control of his power, could taste it in the air around him. Steve usually always had better control of himself, the rage, power, and everything. The loss made him even angrier. All because he couldn’t figure out the woman and what she was doing to him.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Steve huffed and stepped around Bucky. He sank onto a barstool and took another drink from his beer. Bucky glared and leaned against the counter, glowering as he did.

“Then why are you acting like this? Why?” Bucky pressed. “Cause it sure as shit doesn’t make any sense to me why you can’t at least be cordial. It’s not like she intended on potentially drowning and getting hurt. If you’re worried about the pack and how they’d handle her being here, don’t. Nat’s already on that. She likes the girl and is our beta for a reason.”

“I’m not worried about the pack,” Steve bit back.

“Then what’s your issue?”

Steve fell silent, glaring at the bottle. To be completely honest, he didn’t know. True, he wasn’t completely jazzed about her being here in their territory. Except he could handle the few ruffled furs and angry snaps from the members. There was something about her that stood out to him. He might have only said a few words to her, but it was still there. That’s what was bothering him. Why did his wolf raise it’s head for the first time in years? It’s never shown interest. Not since-

“Um.”

A soft voice behind him caused him to jump, his eyes going wide. Bucky even seemed startled by her quiet approach. They weren’t that deep in conversation to miss hearing her walk up, were they?

“Sorry.” Y/N said sheepishly when both men turned to stare at her in shock. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. But could one of you help?”

Bucky’s eyes dropped to the back and tape in her hand, blinking in confusion. Steve frowned and tried to figure out what she meant.

“I can’t get my splint wet and don’t want to risk taking it off and well… Slipping in the shower.” Y/N chuckled, ducking her chin to her chest. A slow grin spread on Bucky’s face before he pushed off the counter to help.

“Can’t have that can we?” Bucky teased.

“I figured we all had enough excitement for today.”

Steve watched quietly as Bucky helped tape the bag on her hand, his brows creasing in thought. She giggled at something Bucky said and Steve felt his breath hitch at the sound. Biting back a growl, he shook his head and glared at the bottle once again.

“There,” Bucky said looking down at the finished product. “Let me know if you need help taking it off.”

Y/N thanked him and Steve heard her soft footsteps retreat back down the hall. Bucky let out a sigh and slid in next to Steve.

“I just…” Bucky began slowly. “I just need you to not treat her like you wanted her to drown in the river. She’s actually really sweet and I know if you gave her a chance, you’d actually like her.”

Steve grumbled and finished what was left of the beer. He let out a deep sigh and sent Bucky a halfhearted glare.

“Fine.” He muttered and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll try to keep my attitude in check.”

“That’s all I ask pal.”

The two fell silent, listening to the distant sound of the shower running and the dark rumble of the clouds above them.

“You know I don’t like you sometimes, punk,” Steve muttered. Bucky snorted and nodded.

“Right back at you jerk.”

The two exchanged lopsided smirks, whatever cloud hanging over them both gone. They’d be fine, that they knew at least. If only they knew of the other clouds that hung heavy and dark above their home.

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[mypersonmyg]

Reader keeping secrets from ________ Reader leading a double life a an underground artist and ________ has no idea but is a fan? Sorry that’s all I can come up with on short notice lol Hope you have fun writing whatever you work on! 😀

Pairing: Taehyung x tagger!reader

WC: 1.7k

Genre: artist au

Rating: pg

Warnings: None. 

A/N: I may do a part 2 if you want. Idk, I’m just tired.

“Did you see?” You glance up  from your laptop as Taehyung walks through the front door, eyes glued to his phone. When you don’t respond he looks up expectantly and you shrug your shoulders with a tilt of the head. “Purple Panda tagged last night and it’s all over my feed.”

“Oh, cool.” You glance back down at your laptop, never interested in having lengthy conversations with your boyfriend about his favorite local artist and their hidden identity. “I’m kinda feeling pizza tonight, are you in?”

“Did you hear what I said?” He takes a seat on the arm of the couch and presses a kiss against the crown of your head. You hum continuing to type against your keyboard without pretense.

“Yeah, artist, tag, social feed. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with this person,” You lower your screen and angle yourself toward him. “Sure they’re amazing at what they do, but what they do is also pretty illegal.”

Taehyung pulls his lip into a contemplative pout, his hands coming to massage your shoulders, the feeling relieving the tension that had taken over your muscles. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, the sound of Yeontan’s feet patter occasionally across the floor. 

“Why don’t you like them?” You’re caught off guard by the sudden question, never having said anything about your personal feelings. 

“What do you mean? I never said that.”

“True, but you’re always telling me that I shouldn’t invest so much time in this and you can’t help but to constantly point out the lack of legality in their work.” You huff, pushing yourself from the confines of the couch cushions and onto your feet. Taehyung is hot on your trail as you head to the kitchen, grabbing your keys from the counter.

“I don’t hate them, I just don’t think you should invest so much time in trying to discover a person who doesn’t want to be discovered. They have a pseudonym for a reason and that reason is not for you to try to expose their true identity.” It had become a sort of hobby for Taehyung to try and crack the code of Purple Panda. He enjoyed their art so much that he figured finding them would be next best to actually creating the pieces himself. 

He followed every lead that filled his social feeds and he even roped Namjoon and Jimin into the whole ordeal. You on the other hand were content with knowing nothing of this person aside from what they paint on buildings. You’ve tried and failed to get Taehyung to let go of this idea that he could find the elusive artist, but he just poked fun at you for being jealous or asked questions like this one.

“I’m going to go and grab us some pizza, why don’t you watch a movie or something, hmm?” You pat Taehyung’s arm and peck his cheek, your purse being thrown over one shoulder. 

“Yeah, sure.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets and watches you walk out of the house, the door clicking shut behind you. He walks to the front, pacing back and forth near the window to allow himself to watch you pull out of the drive. When he’s sure that you won’t be pulling back in he makes a beeline to the hall closet, Yeontan hot on his trail. “I think I know why she hates Purple Panda so much, Tannie.”

The dog yaps, jumping around Taehyung as he bends to the ground pulling at a box that’s stuffed deep in the junk filled closet. Yeontan nips at his pant legs, like he’s trying to stop Taehyung from completing his task, but Taehyung simply scoops the dog up and cuddles him to his chest. He manages to wrestle the box out with his one free hand and he places Yeontan back into the hall where the dog trots away indignantly.

Taehyung had grown increasingly suspicious of your behavior in the past few weeks and had taken to keeping a close eye on you. His first avenue was to assume the worst, the odd hours in which you’d claim to have errands or plans with friends not making the choice difficult. It was Namjoon’s comforting voice of reason that had talked him down from that ledge and since then he’s been grasping at anything to connect your behavior. 

The latest in his growing suspicions is the way in which you disregard his excitement for his most recent favorite artist. Purple Panda is a tagger, an expert in Taehyung’s opinion, and has been running throughout the city making their mark for the better part of a year now. The first time he’d come to you with full cheeks and his phone resting in his palm you’d been just as excited as him. The new artist becoming a popular topic of discussion between the two of you. 

That had all changed after the first month, when Taehyung had decided that he wanted to meet this infamous tagger no matter what it took. It was a usual night, the two of you cuddled up in bed when he’d shared his plans with you. The way you had stiffened beneath him should’ve been his first clue that something was wrong, but he’d thought nothing of it, the chill that often filled the room a logical enough explanation. 

Now, he had taken notice of your hasty subject changes and how you avoided fully answering any questions he had pertaining to the Purple Panda. In fact, it seemed that the more he dug in the more annoyed you got with him. You weren’t snapping, but there was definitely a slight edge to your voice when you would issue him a response. 

Taehyung had again expressed his beliefs with Namjoon who told him that the best way to find out the truth would be for him to confront you directly. That was when Jimin had opted to butt into the conversation and tell Taehyung that was the worst idea.

“She’s not just gonna come and tell you flat out. You have to be smarter than her, do a little sleuthing and wait until you have proof.” This idea sounded much more appealing to Taehyung, perhaps because it allowed him to put his detective skills to the test though he would never admit the underlying excitement. So he’d taken to paying extra close attention to you when you left and when you came home. The way you reacted to different questions and conversations.

When he’d spoken to you today he noted a twitch in your nose, a tell-tale sign that you were keeping something from him. Over the past weeks he had picked up on your routine. You would come into the house and sometimes immediately open the closet door before coming to greet him and oftentimes open it again before you left. One of these times he stepped into the closet and looked for any sign that you’d disrupted one of the multitudes of storage boxes piled into the tiny space.

He’d spotted a box slightly protruding from the back and pulled it out immediately to find that there was nothing inside save for an old dirty rag. He figured that whatever you were taking whenever you left the house must be kept in that box. If he was as good a detective as he liked to believe he guessed that the box would be filled with spray paint. He intended to sneak out of bed tonight to see if his assumptions were true, but your sudden decision to leave the house gave him a window of opportunity. So here he sits, the box before him, filled with what he hopes is the answer to his mystery. The box is much heavier than the first time he’d come across it which he found a good sign.

“Here goes,” He says to no one in particular, his hand coming to lift the cardboard flap that hid the contents from view. His eyes had involuntarily, his nerves getting the best of him. If what he finds isn’t what he’s expecting he isn’t sure what it could be or how he’ll react.

He takes a deep breath and peers into the box. 

“Gotcha,” He smiles from ear to ear, half used spray paint cans stuffed into a worn duffle greeting him. He lifts one of the cans, a purple one adorning the name of your chosen pseudonym and he smiles at his excellent deductive reasoning. 

When the shock and triumph wears off  he begins to wonder why you would hide something from him. But more importantly how you got into tagging in the first place. You’d told him plenty of times that there were many dangers that came from this form of expression and he can’t imagine a reason why you would put yourself in danger of getting caught. 

He slumps against the wall, tossing a can back and forth between his hands while he thinks. His head snaps toward the front door when he hears you struggling on the other side, the ruffling of your purse and the mumbled obscenities almost bringing a smile to his face. He glances between the door and the paint, contemplating his next move.

Confront or let it go?

He wants nothing more than to confront you, make you tell him why you’d kept it a secret from him, but he’s also certain that there had to be a logical reason and he doesn’t want to pressure you. Just as you’re sliding your key into the door he makes the decision to stuff the paint back into the box and the box back into the closet. 

“Hey, the line was so short today. Lucky us!” You hold the pizza you’d purchased out and he takes the box with a smile. “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing, just trying to find out more about Purple Panda.” He watches you visibly flinch, covering it with a smile as you lead him to the kitchen. “I was kind of thinking you’re right though.”

“Yeah? About what?” 

“If they want to be discovered then they’ll do it in their own time.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” You send him a smile and slide the pizza onto the table. Taehyung slides into his chair and grabs your hand placing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. 

“And I will wait forever if that’s what it takes.”

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

With running out of storage space for pics, it’s time to unload insomnia writing with another round of....

From the drafts!

In this case I was rambling on about my hating Spring. I wrote this about a month ago, but it’s still 100% true and will be until half past June.

As usual, no proof reading and no promise it’s complete, but I just couldn’t delete it. 

I HATE  this time of year.

The days get longer and warmer, and I get sadder and sadder.

It’s spring, people say. The season of new growth, rebirth, young love, and blooming flowers. How can you not feel all that hope, optimisim, and potential?

But I think that’s the point. It makes me aware of what I lack, what I can never be or have. 

Oh, I’ve had an amazing talent for focusing narrowly on the now and believing everything would work out somehow. I’d figure things out or get lucky or something. Stumbling through each day with a bullheaded determination and never letting myself linger on the futility of it all, distracting myself with anything interesting I’d come across along the way served me well. 

Yet this never worked in spring. 

The budding of the trees and the explosion of daffodils in all the yards would mark the start of  if it. I’d find myself thinking about things to do with life. Beginnings and births would become thoughts of maybes  and could bes that I longed for, but always found out of reach. 

Despair and disappointment. Lost and alone. Trapped in a cage with no way out. 

As a teenager I’d end up having a kind of meltdown every year. I’d run off to the woods to skip school at least once, hiding and crying. I would just not be able to stop crying, and at the time I was so ashamed to cry I could go the rest the year without shedding a tear, so this was dramatic for me.

 My parents were great about it, never once chiding me even. Not talking about it really either of course, since I was always seen as fine really. They just assumed I’d cope, and if going to school the next day like normal, without the slightest blip in the grades I wasn’t having to work for anyway, was coping I suppose I was.

 I suppose mostly it just would throw them. They knew of my insecurities and anxieties, but I don’t think they ever could quite see the depths of unhappiness that stayed submerged most of the time. 

And that was when I was young. Back then there was still possibility and potential. I was a kid with a future ahead of her. 

It was reasonable to assume that one day I’d have all the things I wanted. I’d have friends and family, someone that loved me, a career, a purpose, a few adventures, and just enough  success that I could live comfortably enough survival wasn’t a daily worry and feel I’d accomplished at least one good thing to make the world better. 

Okay, maybe just a few of them. But certainly I’d have at least some of those things, because it would be almost impossible not to at least accidentally end up with a few of them.

Or not it turns out.

 Middle aged me has discovered just how bad a person can be at life, and how luck can end up not compensating at all. A life really can just be a slide downhill and you can suddenly realize you not only have no realistic hopes any more, you actually peaked at four! 

The last few years have been increasingly worse. What used to offer stability and comforts have twisted into sources of anxiety or simply been stripped away. My loved ones have been lost to me, leaving me now friendless and alone. Worrying about surviving day to day, and trying to accept I can’t hold my world together occupies me thoughts. I have to let go of even little things that give me pleasure.

The future I never much looked to I can see more and more often as a bleak, dark, wasteland.

My optimistic and  hopeful side is nearly gone, burned away by the bright glare of harsh realities. It gets that way when things never seem to work out and day after day offers fresh disasters you won’t be able to fix.**

I can’t even divert myself with all those little things. You may have noticed my photos are more perfunctory than they even used to be, my sculpting more awkward, and my text posts only venting and moaning. I don’t notice things and I can’t seem to get my imagination to work, and these were the cornerstones of my emotional survival.

Spring used to be the depressing time for me, and I could hold it back the rest of the time. Since certain events in 2012 that were the tugged threads that began the unraveling of the fabric of my life, it has increasingly gotten so the whole year feels like the awfulness of spring.

And yet spring is still actually worse. 

The world comes alive each spring, while I wither just a bit more each year. 

To be clear, I do NOT want to die. Never have, and expect I never will. As I like to say (and think I got from Blake’s 7) I intend to live forever, or die trying. (didn’t work out to well for them, did it! LOL). 

I do admit I frequently try a little little mental trick of telling myself to think of myself as already dead. The idea isn’t I want to die, but that if I’m already dead the story is over and it doesn’t hurt anymore. If my story is still going on  I desire what I can’t have and hope for what I can never get, so daily have to deal with the rapidly increasing impossibility of achieving any of it. It’s like starving to death slowly. It’s painful to very rationally and clear eyed face the simple fact that my life will get no better. The dead don’t feal pain, or grief, or loneliness, or fear, or unrequited love, or guilt, or shame, any of the rest of what has weighed  me down. 

So the game is to be a ghost, haunting the places I wander. I  observe the world without an ache at being ignored, since most people never see a ghost anyway. I let myself be adrift between a warm memories of the past and the empty rooms of the present with no dread of the future, because that’s the story of others and not me. Nothing new can hurt a ghost.

But it’s just a thing to comfort myself when things are bad, but it never quite works. I can tell myself to pretend to be dead, but I’m very much alive. I feel and feel and feel, the raw nerve too sensitive girl still.

My other thing to repeat to myself on bad days is “I don’t matter.” This isn’t self loathing or anything, but me keeping my suffering in perspective. I’m not significant and contribute nothing to the world. I’ve no one depending on me or noticing me. If I died tomorrow only my mother would even mourn, and one day I won’t even have her. My sufferings are only mine and mine alone. I do not matter to the world.

Oddly this can be comforting and freeing. I don’t have to feel ashamed about how I’m stuck living. If a repair is out of my reach, well no one else is bothered so I can just deal with it unrepaired. I only have to worry about enduring. 

But that’s the rub. Enduring can be grueling.

 Watching your home rot away around you, being unable to get a vehicle repaired because you can’t get a lift to a repair shop, limping as you try to cut up a fallen tree blocking your driveway using only a handsaw, wearing five layers topped with a thick coat in your house in winter because you don’t exactly have heat, deciding what food not to buy yourself because you need to buy feed for the animals, and a thousand other things. It’s tiring. 

 Not mattering to others can’t stop you mattering to yourself. Mattering is what hurts. “It doesn’t matter” you shrug off. “It matters” you can’t ignore. My life is too full of things that “matter”, despite my attempts to feel otherwise.

And here is Spring, salt in the wound of my life. I’d probably be depressed in a good life this time of year, and I’d probably be depressed with the current state of my life whatever the season. The two together? I just want to curl up somewhere. Believe me, if I didn’t have so much I have to do I’d just stay in bed until June...

**Today’s disaster? I shattered the screen on my iPad. It still works, obviously since I’m writing this on it, but if it ever stops I won’t be able to afford to replace it. 

[thedappleddragon]

hooooo my fucking god I don't know why but recently my anxiety/sence of dread has SKYROCKETED in the last 3 days, I haven't been sleeping great and last night I had an anxiety dream about manning the register at work. idk I guess today was fine but im so fucking overstimulated I guess?? I seriously just dont fuking know. but anyway here’s a summary of some days that I may or may not remember. putting it under the cut

Wednesday I was exited to work, they didn’t need me, I hung out with my friends at their outdoor band concert and had boba and it got super cold out

Thursday I went with my dad to drop off a car, then we had breakfast together at a little restaurant I had never been to before. He told me about his childhood n stuff. Then I went to work and priced things outside and felt good about helping some people buy plants even tho I didn’t know exactly what I was doing and ended up handing them off to Becky anyway. Got off work, came home, hung out waiting to be able to go visit my friend but she took a while so dad and I made the snack he had a lot as a kid which was just handmade chocolate frosting on graham crackers. Eventually my friend got home so I grabbed one of those graham crackers in some Tupperware and some other stuff and headed out. It was a longer drive than I was expecting but eh whatever, I got there no problem with a bunch of dad’s shit in the back of the car. We had awkward hellos in her apartment and I pet her fat ass cat until she suggested we go thrifting and oh my god I had never wanted to go thrifting more in my life than right then. I had one of those moments where I realized oh I’m an adult who can go out and just DO things :D so we walked around and gossiped in goodwil and had a great time until they closed, whereupon steph frantically looked for anything that was open near us while I drove around. We settled on going to a little park nearby, where we climbed on the tube with holes on it and swung on the swings. Then we walked around a dense tree/brush like and into the middle of a field, having our main character moments as we walked to the top of a hill with a cross on it. I took a picture of the sunset and a selfie with both of us before we walked back through the field and drove back to her apartment. I gave her 2 tiny flower jars and she let me borrow her container of earring hardware and a bunch of different tiny things to make into earrings. I had a great time and I’d love to hang out again, maybe when everything isn’t closed lmao. We joked a lot about understanding why people do drugs lmao since there’s nothing else to do! everything’s closed!! Also some joke flirting mixed in for flavor. We have an excuse to hang out again so I can return her earring supplies and she can return my Tupperware lol. I thought my phone was going to die on the way home before I realized there was a charging cord in the car! Nice. Got home, watched my friend stream plasmaphobia for a bit while I finished a birthday gift, and hung out and slept when she quit streaming. 

Friend’s birthday party day!! Also dad moving day!! The first task of the day was to drive with my dad down to the nearest uhaul to pick up a big ol’ truck, and follow him home in the car while he lead the way in the truck. Then we brought his car full of shit to the apartment, got his key and paid his first month, and looked through everything to do inspection. Tbh it’s a pretty nice apartment, I’d love to spend some time there once it’s a bit more furnished. My favorite part is a Harry Potter style hidey hole closet that’s meant for storage, but it’s the perfect size for a secluded hangout spot for me. I’ll totally let him use it for storage if he wants, I just like sitting in there. I joked that I would let Emily hang out in the spare bedroom and I could get the tiny room. But we spent time cleaning and looking around and bringing in boxes before dad sent me to pick up lunch, my sister, and another car load of boxes. I left to do all 3 and came back with Mcallisters, and we all sat on the floor and ate together. A very nice way to break in a new apartment. We brought in boxes and dad sent us on a quest to pick up a car part and drop it off where the car we dropped off the day before. We got there just fine, but getting to the second location was a nightmare because of all my wrong turns and u turns and no left turns, it was awful. I mean we got there eventually but still. By then it was time for me to get home so I could wash my hair and get ready for the party!! I got everything ready, but my sister wouldn’t be home with the car on time, so I just took my mom’s van. I was on time for once!! But in exchange I didn’t realize I had forgotten Cassidy’s gift until I was like 3 minutes away. But also I found driving my moms van very easy compared to last time I tried to drive it, and I think I’m a much more confident driver now :) but I was one of the first to arrive, accidentally twinned with cass, waited for everyone to show up, met her new dog, and then we all packed up the picnic basket and walked to the top of a hill to have our little sandwiches and play cards against humanity. On the walk there we passed by a park where little kids were asking why we were all dressed up if it wasn’t Halloween, so I shouted at them that it was her birthday and handed them the branch I was carrying. We played CAH on the hill and ate little sandwiches and meatballs and drank sparkling juice and had a lovely time, and when we were done, we walked back to her house where there was pizza and we all changed out of our formal wear. My bra was sewed into my dress with 6 stitches, so I grabbed some scissors and flashed my friend’s cat as I cut my bra free of the dress because I forgot to bring an extra. I changed into my ghostbusters shirt and snake onesie and joined everyone outside for pizza and lots and lots of stories and ice cream cake and gossip and quiplash and balloons and gifts and CAH and friends leaving and new friends arriving and more quiplash and then the grass getting cold and wet and going ham on keeping the balloons up and then playing that’s what she said (basically CAH but ✨for women ✨) and by this time there was a dude I didn’t know but he was very nice and cute and already taken. Tbh I didn’t know half the people there, there was a group of 4 cool alt people I had never met and then the 4 band kids I already knew but everyone else seemed to know each other and they all had great energy so I yelled a lot and joked a ton and had an amazing time. As the crowd dwindled and the night got cooler, I helped put things away before I left so I could be a nice guest, said my goodbyes, gathered my things, and drove home past midnight. Ask walked around the house turning off lights like my mom asked, I realized that my dad wouldn’t be sleeping here anymore, and I felt bad that he had to spend the night all alone in his new apartment :( and this is going to be a huge financial burden that idk if he can afford, rent for the apartment is almost as much as my mom pays for the house. Jejdjgjt this is all a mess and I would like to go back to ignoring it all <3 Listened to a lot of two trucks by lemon demon lmao

Hoo boy howdy I did a lot of shit today. Basically as soon as I woke up I got a text from dad about us helping him move with a promise of donut holes and a fruit platter. I walked out to the garage to find our family friends the drakes helping to move boxes, so we all spent several hours loading boxes into our cars and driving back and forth from the house to the apartment, with emily and I avoiding the drakes as much as possible lmao. When we had moved as much as we could in the car, we started loading up the uhaul, shoving as much shit in there as possible so we only had to do one trip there and back. Partially through unloading the truck the drakes stopped cleaning things before we brought them in left and some randos from dad’s work came to help unload and somewhere in the middle of all this our aunt and uncle and her service dog came to visit?? Bruh idk so much stuff happened. Emily asked me to take her home so she could work on school stuff and we put things back into the garage and I went back to the apartment to help with stuff and hang out with my aunt while my dad and uncle returned the truck. We made a list of stuff I might need for college and I wrote it down on a notepad and most of the page space was taken up by ponies tbh. The men brought back burger king and eventually my aunt and uncle left. I helped my dad clean up and set up his wifi and we watched mama Mia. It was my first time seeing the film, and it was really dang fun. Then I made dad drive me ho e since emily was still gone with the silver car. I’ll spend he night over there eventually, but not yet. I’m exited to eventually invite friends over since I’ve never been able to do that before. So now I’m home trying g to go to sleep so I can work tomorrow. I keep thinking about smoking weed and making out with someone in the hidey hole in dad’s apartment............ even tho I have literally no one to do that with afsagssg I’m a CHILD. 

Had dreams last night about being stuck on the infinity train again, except there was a mechanic of switching the world between 2d and 3d and the cast of Bluey had to help bingo go through stages of grief / character moments to help her get off the train or something. I was tossing and turning for a few hours anxiously waking up thinking I was gonna be late and going back to bed so I could sleep/dream more. But then I finally got up, fed my cat, fed myself, helped clean the kitchen a little bit, got ready for work, arrived 15 minutes late on accident, worked register for 6 hours, got more comfortable with register and learned how to do stuff, lots of friendly people, lots of me struggling and my bones hurting, dad brought me food but I couldn’t get to my lunch break until everything was room temperature. The chicken sandwich reheated well but the fries did not. After work dad and I stopped by the house, I got an info card to fill out so I can be called in for jury duty eventually, dad handed me $50 for dinner for us and my sister, we laid on the floor and looked at the noodles and company menu, drove there, picked up our food, had a lovely dinner at dad’s apartment, laid around while he talked to Greg on the phone, went to target to pick up small apartment things like a clock and a trash can and some small groceries but it made me nervous because I hate spending money and watching my dad spend money he may or may not have, and by then we were tired as shit and after dropping his stuff off emily and I drove home and I tried teaching her how to crochet for a school project. Now I’m hanging out wanting to go to bed and thinking about how everybody else my age working at ACE is doing like 60 hours a week with 2 jobs and saving for college and I’m just sitting here with probably 14 hours a week and fuck. I don’t want to spiral into shit, I just want to keep busy as much as possible. Maybe I’ll ask for as many work hours as possible, maybe I’ll ask my friends to hang out, idk. Right now I jut want to be busy so I don’t have to think about anything. I’ll spend as much time as possible helping my dad set up his apartment, I don’t care.

WAAAAA TODAY AT WORK WAS SO STRESSFUL, I LEFT FELLNG SO FRAZZLED IT SUCKED. basically I worked register for 4 hours but they’re all trying to ween me off asking for help to get me more comfortable, and we were surprisingly busy, and my garden boss becky asked me to do 2 extra things and my boss boss kept asking about paperwork that I couldn't fill out because I needed my sister to text me something, and an old man got mad at me over the phone because no-one was out there to fill his propane tank and I had a lady waiting for 10 minutes for someone to help load salt into her car and a middle aged man tried to use sarcasm at me while I was in friendly cashier mode aND IM SORRY I HAVE ADHD I DONT GET IT PLEASE S T O P and I tried answering the phone more and I didnt get the things done that becky asked and I left shit there because I just wanteD OUT. afterwards I went to target to get something, idk im writing this afterwards so I not really remember 

and today, my day off. ugh god I dont remember what I did, I know I picked up a vent for my mom’s bathroom and I just went to go get Taco Bell with my sister and bought her some more about crocheting and she’s making progress :) tomorrow is my friend’s birthday and last year I made her a felt doll of her fursona, so today I started making a crochet doll for her. so far I have the body and libs, but I still need to make the muzzle, tail, ears, attach everything, and hand-sew on all the markings and glue on button eyes. or maybe felt eyes, idk. my stomach hurts and I got upset because I told my mom my cat may be sick because her pee looked suspicious so I crocheted and watched my little pony and now I have a headache and im just trying to listen to music but really I just want to watch 50 arms videos at once but it wasn't loading right and idk man I dont know what’s happening, I may be going into work tomorrow. I think now that I have a job to do 3-4 times a week, I dont feel like I can just chill and wing it anymore, it’s like I have plans forever now. and oh god I still have to sig up for college orientation night or whatever, but my mind hasn'tt been on college for like a month or longer. I think im just going to take some Advil and try to relax with my cat and my music. holy shit dude. I know none’s gonna read this but just. fuck. also I should really post these more frequently rather than let them pile up in my texts. thinking about going back and adding all the dates like I did with my early quarantine diary, but that feels like a lot of work

[theoriginalladya]

Angst (?) Writing Prompt

Not finding this one in my asks, so I guess it must be one I decided to do on my own.  No idea what list, though I have a ton of them saved! lol  They certainly help sort out stuff!

Caleb Shepard and Kaidan Alenko - right after Kaidan rejoins the Normandy.

On AO3 here

Prompt:  Do I look like I want you to go?  No?  Then please.  Stay.

~~~

“It isn’t much, but at least it’s your own space,” Shepard explains as he unlocks the door to the starboard cargo hold on the Engineering deck.  The irony that the only private space available for the major is on this deck does not escape him.  Briefly, he wonders what, if any, Spectre work Kaidan will accomplish with Adams and the engineering crew so close by.  Would the tech temptation prove to be too much?  

The room is essentially empty as the lights come up. “A bed and desk will be in place before we leave dock.  Feel free to requisition anything else you need.”  He turns to find Kaidan standing hesitantly in the doorway.  Shepard’s head tilts.  “Not to your liking?”

“No, it isn’t that,” Kaidan replies, entering the room.  The door slides shut behind him and he drops his duffle on a storage crate nearby.  “It’s just …”  

Caleb allows a few seconds to pass in silence before suggesting, “It’s just weird being back?”

Kaidan chuckles softly, rubs the back of his neck with his hand.  “Yeah, I guess that’s it.”  He takes a few steps deeper into the room and wanders over to the bulkhead window to stare out.  “Nice view.”

Caleb is reminded of a discussion years ago back when they served together on the SR1.  His lips twitch slightly as he walks over to join him, teasing, “Careful there, major, your romantic side is showing again.”

Kaidan appears almost startled at first, the deer-in-the-headlights sort of look that Caleb occasionally sees across a battlefield.  It doesn’t last long, though.  “Heh, yeah …”  Kaidan pauses or a moment, brow narrowing, then he snaps his fingers.  “Oh, that’s right, our first trip to the Citadel. Right after you were made Spectre, wasn’t it?”

Caleb nods.  “And Ashley, queen of snark, riding your ass as if she was the staff lieutenant.”  He chuckles softly.  The memory isn’t quite as painful these days.  

“I miss her sometimes.”

“Same.”  

Silence fills the space around them, and for some reason, Caleb finds it a bit awkward.  It’s good to see Kaidan healthy and whole again after Mars, and he’s been looking forward to having him back aboard the Normandy, fighting the reapers side by side like they did back on the SR1.  But he’s also aware that since Mars, something has changed between them.  He’s still trying to figure out what, exactly, but rather than subjecting Kaidan to it, turns toward the door.  “I should probably go.”

He makes it halfway across the room before Kaidan speaks up.  “Does it look like I want you to go?”

Startled by such a response, Caleb turns to face him.  Kaidan stands stiffly, appears slightly ill at ease, but the look in his eyes suggests something completely different.  Shepard isn’t sure how to respond.

In the end, Kaidan does it for him.  “No? Then please. Stay.”

Relief of a sort flows through Caleb resulting in a soft laugh and a smile.  “You’ve changed,” he comments as he retraces his steps.  This time, he leans against the bulkhead and folds his arms across his chest while eyeing his friend.  “More … confident.  Self-assured.” The smile widens.  “Blunt.”

There’s a hint of a flush in Kaidan’s cheeks.  “I’ll blame it on you.”  

“Oh, I don’t know, I think it was always there.”  Caleb’s head tilts again as he watches Kaidan.  “Just hidden away, looking for the right moment to escape.”

Kaidan ignores him, pointedly looking out the window at the Citadel docks. “Yeah?”  

He nods.  “And in case I wasn’t clear, I don’t mean you’ve changed in a bad way.”

“I didn’t take it that way, Shepard.”

“Good.”  

The silence returns, this time less awkward, and Shepard remains where he is but closes his eyes.  It doesn’t escape him that this is, for all intents and purposes, the first time they’ve shared an assignment and can just spend time talking.  No rush, no combat, no life or death.  “Tell me something?”

Kaidan turns his attention toward him.  “What’s that?”

Opening his eyes, Caleb focuses on his face.  “Would you have shot me?”

The second Spectre’s eyes narrow a bit, but there is no shock or surprise with the question.  “Would you have me?”

Caleb huffs softly, glances away.  A good question.  Kaidan knows the truth, but that doesn’t make it any easier to admit it.  “Kaidan – .”

“I’m not Finch, you know.”

Cold seeps through Caleb from head to toe and out through his limbs with the speed of a rabid varren, and just as dangerous.  Movement is impossible.  His lungs momentarily stop working.  “You … bastard,” he manages to hiss after a moment.  It isn’t anger so much as irritation that fuels it.

Kaidan laughs, unaffected.  That is a surprise.  “Am I wrong?”

Finally able to lift his head again, Caleb stares at him.  He’s openly laughing about this.  He remembers the incident three years ago, the follow up conversation on the SR1, the concerns that Kaidan had about him being a cold blooded murderer.  None of that is present now.  Instead, he finds … acceptance?  “Who are you and what have you done with the real Kaidan Alenko?”

The laughter morphs into a full-fledged grin.  “I wasn’t the one brought back by Cerberus, you know.”

Caleb tosses his hands in the air.  Whatever has happened, he is suddenly at the receiving end of some very peculiar, very un-Kaidan-like behavior.  He isn’t sure if he should be startled, concerned or glad.  “Jesus, Kaidan!  What is going on with you?”

The grin softens a bit.  “A near death experience brings things into perspective, don’t you think?”

He snorts softly, unable to stop himself.  “Oh, trust me, I know that all too well.”

“If it works for you,” Kaidan reasons, “then why not for me?”

The image of Kaidan lain out on in the medbay, injured and barely breathing returns and Caleb shudders almost violently.  

Kaidan moves a step closer.  “You okay?”

It takes Caleb a moment to compose himself, but eventually he nods and shrugs.  “Just … wasn’t a good moment for me.  Seeing you like that.”  Still lined up against the wall, his head falls back and he stares up at the ceiling. “I … guess I have an idea of what you went through … after Alchera, I mean.”

“Yeah.”

The awkwardness returns, and this time neither can find a way past it. When Shepard straightens, rolls his shoulder back and heads to the door.  This time, Kaidan doesn’t try to stop him.  It’s probably for the best.  Pausing in the doorway, Caleb calls over, “Welcome back aboard, major.”

Their eyes meet across the room.  “Thanks, commander.  Looking … forward to it.”

[piracytheorist]

Drawings (1/1)

Summary: Killian hasn't drawn in ages. With Wish Hook's help and inspiration, he picks it up again.

Note: what is giving titles lol anyways this is short and a bit silly but I had the idea and wanted to share!

Again, for clarification, I’m borrowing the idea used by other authors where “Killian” refers to OG Hook while “Jones” refers to Wish Hook.

Word count: ~1.3k AO3

~

Killian passes the bag from Granny's to hang from his hook before he pushes open the main door of the sheriff's station. He takes the turn for the office and spots Jones sitting on one of the desks, occupied with writing.

"Hey, mate," he says. 

Jones raises his head and gives him a smile. He then nods towards the storage room. "Emma's just finishing."

"Really? I thought I'd need to wait for her." He walks closer to Jones. Is that a notebook he's writing on?

Jones snorts a laugh. "She said your... our, punctuality is rubbing off on her."

Killian laughs. He's about to comment on how having two very punctual deputies would have that effect, but his attention is caught by what Jones is actually doing on the notebook.

He's sketching.

Killian doesn't realize he's transfixed by that simple sketch of a ship sailing on the open seas until Emma calls out to him. Neither her nor Jones seem to notice exactly how transfixed he was.

~

Killian "catches" Jones sketching again two days later, during a slow, lazy evening shift. Chin resting on his mechanical hand, he doesn't react when Killian stands up from his desk and steps closer. He's sketching the bare back of a female figure, her hands buried in her long, curly hair.

Killian takes a deep breath. His mind fills with memories of Milah posing for him to draw, of him for her to draw... though she always preferred drawing landscapes, painting people frustrated her, the only drawing of that kind that she didn't end up ripping being her own self-portrait. Had he known how early he'd lose her...

"I didn't know you kept up drawing," he says in a low voice.

Jones just shrugs. "I had a lot of time to spend alone in the tower, when Alice was asleep. I remember," he says, pausing on the sketch, "one of the first times I went for a supply run at the nearby village, I found some paper and charcoal, and decided to try picking it up again." He adds a couple of lines before adding, "My first attempts were pitiful. I tried sketching the tower room, the view from the window, my Alice sleeping in her crib. Eventually I just fell into it again. By the time Alice was old enough to draw shapes, I had practiced enough to reach the level I was in when I'd stopped." He turns to look at him and immediately grows worried. "Are you alright?"

Killian realizes how he must be looking. To Jones' eyes he's probably an open book. He sighs weakly. "I... I guess I hadn't realized I've been missing that."

Jones fidgets with the pencil in his hand. "It wasn't easy for me to start again, either."

The good thing with being friends with... himself is that a lot of things don't need explanation.

He remembered sketching as a kid; not so much during his time in servitude, then the occasional doodle when he was in the Navy, then it was with Milah that he spent the most time on it. She'd taught him techniques, let him copy her sketches for practice, posed for him to draw... and then she was gone, and any thought of going back on that hurt.

"But when I was thinking of how I had Alice to live for... it felt different." Jones picks up his phone from the desk and after a quick search, he shows Killian a series of charcoal sketches of a baby, then a toddler, then a small child. 

Alice, he realizes.

Jones chuckles. "You could call those my 'baby pictures' of her. Alice told me she'd picked up all the sketches she could find in the tower before finally leaving, I had a few on my person but I lost them during my search for a cure..." His eyes fall as he looks at the pictures of the drawings.

Killian rubs softly on Jones' shoulder. "Good thing she kept those, then."

Jones smiles softly. He then straightens his face and looks up at him. "I could help you start again, if you want."

"Well, I-" Killian shrugs. "I do have the luxury of actual baby pictures."

Jones gives him a look that lets him know he's not buying the excuse. He clicks his tongue. "Fine. I don't mind excelling you at something other than our looks."

Killian scoffs, but he knows even that isn't convincing Jones.

~

Killian gives in only a few days later and invites Jones home one evening when Emma is off to inspect some troublemakers in the Land of Untold Stories while he babysits Hope. They start with Jones guiding him through sketching the vase filled with fresh roses in the living room.

Killian squints at the end product, but Jones reassures him he'll get better at it soon.

The living room. The view of the sea from the attic bedroom, the two Jolly Rogers moored next to each other. His Jolly Roger herself. The flowers Emma grows in their garden.

After a few sketches, Killian realizes he doesn't need Jones' guidance anymore. However, Jones accepts happily every time he invites him to come draw with him.

He finally draws Hope sleeping calmly, that thumb of hers trying to sneak its way past the pacifier to her mouth. As if she feels it, she only wakes up right when he's finished, and he's surprised to actually feel satisfied with the final sketch.

Jones scoffs playfully at him when Killian shows him the sketch.

"What? I think she looks beautiful," Killian says.

"Of course she does. Proves how much of Emma's looks she got," Jones teases him.

Jones laughs at the face Killian gives him. 

~

His first time with watercolours, Jones takes him to the port to paint their ships.

"I started experimenting with colours for the first time when Alice was about three. I wanted to give her more colourful pictures of what she didn't have the chance to see on her own," Jones says.

"Great motivation," Killian comments. 

"It made me think of all the colourful paints we'd find in all the exotic ports Milah loved, and why I had never bothered trying out painting with colours back then."

"Huh," Killian says as he prepares his palette by Jones' instructions. "I never thought of that myself."

"That's what I like about this, you know?" Jones looks at him with an earnest smile. 

Killian knows he speaks for both of them when he says, "Getting to know ourselves better."

Once again, Jones lets Killian mimic his painting, giving him instructions throughout. He's not satisfied with the end result, but Jones assures him again that it's gonna get better.

"We didn't learn how to use a sword in one day, either," he tells him.

~

He eventually sticks to sketching, or pale soft colours when he does add them, in contrast to Jones' bright, vivid colours.

"It's interesting," Emma comments on that, "to see how you're still different despite being... almost the same."

"Well, we do have some twenty-eight years of different experiences," Killian says. 

"You'd better not mimic my full experience, mate," Jones says.

"Are you kidding? I'll still be the more handsome when we grow old."

Emma scoffs. "I have an idea. How about you paint each other? You can compare the two paintings and decide which one has the most exaggerated ugliness."

"Now that's a competition," Jones says. "As long as Emma is not a judge."

"Are you afraid of losing, Jones?" Killian says.

"Just keeping it fair," he shrugs innocently. "It's your face she sees all the time; perhaps she's grown bored to it."

The pillow Killian was sitting on flies to Jones' direction as he and Emma burst into laughs.

[overthinkingkdrama]

Please tell us more about your theories about My Country, I'd love to read more of your thoughts on it

Fool! You’ve just activated my trap card!

Lol, thank you so for asking. I was really hoping somebody would. Every molecule in my body is telling me to dissolve into full blown hysterical ranting, but I’ll try to keep this concise.

So my main theory/prediction/possibly wishful thinking is this: The whole cold open scene where Seon Ho and Hwi fight to death that we’re meant to believe all this these machinations are leading up to is a work. It’s a set up. It’s not real.

This is largely based on a couple different little details from the opening scene itself and the events of episode 9, which have convinced me that there is simply no way that Seon Ho, after everything that has happened and especially in light of Yeon’s death, would possibly swallow his need for retribution and revenge and continue to work on his father’s side in hopes of eventually gaining enough power to kill the old man himself. I just can’t accept that that’s what’s happening.

I think the whole set up of the drama is for us to watch, wondering how these two people end up on opposite sides and try to kill each other when they so clearly loved each other and loved Yeon, and both want Nam Jeon dead. How did that happen? How is that the conclusion they both came to? But in actuality, what we think we’re seeing in that first scene isn’t what we’re seeing.

There’s a few things we can glean from the first scene:

First, we know that Seon Ho has certainly not gotten over Yeon’s death and it is still a primary motivator for him, because he still carries her ribbon and from his oblique reference to the sins he has to pay for. Cold blooded killers who don’t care about anything but their own ambition do not talk like this.

Also, and I don’t have a really good justification for this other than a gut feeling, but the dialogue in this scene feels really artificial and on the nose. Like Hwi marching into the building and declaring that he’s there to kill Nam Jeon and then himself...

It just doesn’t seem like something he would need to declare to Seon Ho. I mean, this is somewhere around 10 years after the events of episode 9. Hwi’s stated goal has been to kill Nam Jeon for how long now? And the best plan born general and tactician Bang Won and his most trusted and cunning lieutenant could come up with after all this time was to burst into Nam Jeon’s house with a bunch of soldiers?

This is the fight they could not win without Hwi?

Why? Why is Hwi so crucial for this? Because he’s just that badass? I don’t buy that. Bang Won has plenty of skilled soldiers and what he likes about Hwi isn’t just his martial ability, it’s his fearless attitude and the way his mind works.

No, it feels like this whole showdown was orchestrated for someone else’s benefit other than the two people talking. Who the show is being put on for and to what end, I’m not really sure. Possibly Nam Jeon? Obviously we’re going to need more context for me to put all of this together, but I feel like once we have the context this whole confrontation will be cast in a totally different light.

To me the above scene feels a lot like this one:

A set of lines that were scripted ahead of time for someone else’s benefit. A show of being on opposite sides, when in fact the two are working together behind the scenes.

To me it would see like Seon Ho and Hwi should have identical goals at this point: avenge Yeon, kill Nam Jeon, and gain enough power to accomplish those two things. Seon Ho has no particular reason to be loyal to the king at this point, and he doesn’t seem to have any special affection for the crown prince. Joining hands with Bang Won would seem to be the most logical course of action. I mean, Bang Won doesn’t have any reason to like or trust Seon Ho at this point but Hwi is someone who has his ear and his trust, and having someone on the inside of the crown prince’s faction, with crucial information and nothing but ill will toward Nam Jeon, could only be beneficial for whatever Bang Won is planning. Seon Ho seems like an ideal double agent.

And this is the other thing, purely from a narrative standpoint, how would this be a satisfying climax? After all the bullshit--Nam Jeon’s cruelty, Yeon’s death, both of them thinking they’ve lost each other over and over again, 10 years of seething and grieving--the two friends never reconcile and fight their common enemy together? They end up forming up on opposite sides of a coup that they both have known for a decade was inevitable and then what? Die on each other’s swords for no reason? Or one of them does and the other one regrets it for the rest of their lives? It just doesn’t make any sense.

In episode 9 something finally snapped for Seon Ho. He’s not the person he was at the beginning of the drama anymore. Thinking he’d lost Hwi did that to him. Losing Yeon did that to him. If he ends up fighting Hwi in the end just so he can kill his father himself once he’s strong enough, nothing has changed at all. Without talking to Hwi about it even once? If that’s what happens then Bang Won’s appraisal of him in episode 10 will turn out to have been a lie, because nothing has really changed at all.

As with the build up to Hwi becoming one of Bang Won’s people through his gambit with the weapon storage, or the one leading up to Hwi shooting Bang Won in the chest with his red arrows, I get the sense they’ve skipped over quite a bit of important information during which our boys were making decisions and coming up with plans. I think (I pray) we’re going to get a wealth of flashbacks in the upcoming episodes that are going to fill in some of the gaps for these two characters in the past 6 years, and cast the information we were given in episode 10 in a new light. We still haven’t gotten this scene of Seon Ho by Hwi’s sick bed:

Seon Ho and Hwi need to have had a conversation. I want to believe...I have to believe that the two of them are now in cahoots to bring Nam Jeon down. And I’m going to keep on hoping and thinking that until I get some more solid information in one direction or the other. What would really be satisfying would be if after years of being kicked around and abused by Nam Jeon our two boys, bound by shared history and shared tragedy, decided to fight together against their common enemy, and avenge Yeon’s death using one of the convoluted, high risk plans they’re both so fond of.

Hopefully that was as entertaining to read as it was to write. (That was definitely closer to ranting than it was to being concise, lol.) Have a nice night!

Jona

[partyinthemysterymachine]

a jellicle worldbuilding

fuck it here’s a wall of text infodump about my canon RTT and some worldbuilding, just copy/pasting bc i had the foresight to do so

i got an ask (thank you @jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear ! i love pushing buttons i didn’t mean to push) about what Symbolism i-not-so-quietly-hinted about in regards to Macavity and Munkustrap and their sweet sweet baby brother Tugger.

so while i’m still figuring things out like specific specifics and suchlike with these three, but essentially, RTT is Different. there are some bigger and obvious ones, like the heterochromia, the big ol’ irises, the suggestion of him being larger in body type (kinda accidentally got one of each lmfao coverin the bases), happier. all three of them have the same eyebrows and widow’s peak stripe. all three of them have it with color, tho RTT’s has a full background. doesn’t mean anything Deep. it’s a genetic trait. yeah, other cats have the same stripe/marking. i feel like there’s something Specific about it that i haven’t worked out yet. again it’s not Deep, but just.. a fun little thing, like a distinct birthmark. idk!!

in smaller details, while speaking about the stripe, RTT’s fans upwards while his brothers’ fan downwards. his teeth aren’t right; he was born with some pretty odd lookin’ teeth, and he didn’t grow in the pointy ones other than the canines. there was some concern for him for a hot minute there, but he seems to have done fine.

(note: i don’t HC the tribe as regular cats (tho i once had the idea of them looking like actual cats until the reach the Junkyard at which point, athros, because i was galaxy-braining it since i was 12 lmfao) but as, yeah, p much anthros. clothing is optional, more popular in other areas, right now in this tribe it’s unusual. the Jellicles are known to be kind of ‘old fashioned’. the tribe have guardians, hunters, craftsmen, etc.. they’re a tight little community. they used to be a lot larger, but nobody likes to talk about what happened.

the Junkyard has been Jellicle territory for a very, very long time and they are extremely territorial about it. strategically, it’s one of the best spots to be in. hunting isn’t super, but they have found some sweet spots that nobody else seems to have picked up on yet. obviously it’s a fortress but it’s also a city. there are hundreds of secret passageways, hiding spots, storage, etc. it’s very valuable. (and there’s a trouble tribe looking at it, as they’ve been doing in the last handful of decades)

visitors are usually either invited, or they’ll send word weeks beforehand. it seems very slow and rigid, but it’s more societal politeness and tradition rather than like, anything dangerous is going on. Jellicles and other tribes intermingle outside all the time. there are some chapped asses and that’s pretty typical anyway. at night it’s highly unusual and frowned upon to be cavorting about outside of one’s community. that’s what bad people do. looks Macavity

there are jobs and markets and places to go and enjoy oneself, so it’s pretty much our ‘normal’ life. just everyone has to go home. there is a nightwatch collective, one from each tribe, that enforces curfew. Munkustrap is a part of that collective. it’s a very honored and respected position.)

ANYWAY so basically the normal cat teeth are kind of still a necessity. like Macavity, he’s a maine coon, and chooses to fashion his fur in the mane style. so he regularly grooms it, and the rest of himself, because Fashion and Rebellion. (kind of really weird across the board to do it, though it’s catching on in other tribes and there’s some heat about it. usually only the sick are groomed like that. there’re a couple tribes that will groom short or outright shave a cat’s arms as punishment (or worse, their heads), and that’s always been seen as really harsh and super fucked up. Deut finds it disrespectful.)

RTT is a storyteller. consider him a bard LOL and bards/storytellers are like celebrities. their talent is highly valued, there are a couple competitions a year for them and RTT has been a tough one to beat in the last four years, holding the winning title of one of the events. he’s got fantastic stage presence, incredible social skills, nearly unbeatable improv skills (a part of the event he’s holding winning title of demands a story made up on the fly (topic given, you have x minutes, go) and he excels in that area. he’s got some weak spots ofc, but that awards the most points) and he’s a pretty great guy all around.

so back to the Symbolism. RTT and his brothers are pretty well known (and ofc there are many ‘well known’ cats, but i’m gonna stick to the Jellicles obv). their sore spot is Macavity, and he kind of a lot disgraced the Jellicles by doing what he did and becoming what he is. Deut, Munkustrap, and RTT took a hit. while they are respected, there’s a huge dent on their reputation and it has affected how they’ve been treated, talked about, etc (even a little tittering in their own tribe). so there’s a burden on RTT and Munkustrap’s shoulders to restore trust and honor, so to speak.

OK BACK TO THE SYMBOLISM so they were given color backgrounds and drip effects. Macavity and Munkustrap got it on their face and RTT got his from his chin down his front. it’s to set him apart from his brothers, obviously, but those two are down a shaky path. RTT feels like he’s picking up the slack from Munkustrap and doing what Macavity should’ve. (there are some societal hierarchy things but oh my god i can’t keep going off on worldbuilding tangents)

RTT is a pride and joy of the Jellicles. he does have quite a bit of weight on his shoulders. it’s not to say that all of his congeniality and such is a mask or a front. he’s genuinely like that, and he’s what you see is what you get. as anybody does, he has his demons. it’s hard to say which way the drips on those pictures are going; are they climbing or descending? whatever’s happening to Macavity and Munkustrap it’s affecting them both, and nearly at the same rate.

whatever’s happening to RTT is far from their spectrum, and pretty much everyone else’s.

there’re a lot of Expectations on Munkustrap. there used to be an important role for Macavity until, well, he Did Things. since that happened, people assumed it’d get handed down to RTT instead, but it doesn’t seem to be the case. Macavity’s role is still empty and there’s speculation on what’s going to happen, particularly because his exile happened quite awhile ago and his part was “forgotten” about by Deut. he won’t talk about it, even to Munkustrap.

Deut’s pulled RTT aside a handful of times since then. what he’s been told, discussed, and pitched eats him a bit. it’s going to be a lot of unnecessary trouble if Deut doesn’t sort it out soon. RTT is on a path he didn’t expect or want while he watches his brothers tie themselves, and each other, into sailor’s knots. Munkustrap and Macavity can’t tell if they’re ascending or descending; but RTT knows, and he also knows which way he’s going.

Deut better figure his shit out before it’s his turn to go to the Heavyside, or worse yet, when his brothers both snap for good.

[prorevenge]

Destroy my childhood, ruin my chance at college, and laugh when I said I was homeless? Lol cool, I'll ruin your life.

Long story. TL;DR at the end.

BACKSTORY: My mother was a really shitty person. I have 4 other siblings. One older sister, 3 way younger, 3 different dads. Before I was born (im a male btw), my oldest sister was taken away from my mother when she was a few months old because she tried to stab/slice the father of my sister WHILE HE WAS HOLDING HER. She lost custody and the dude left her. Older sister goes to live with her fathers family in a different city. CUE LIL OL ME COMING INTO THIS SEXY WORLD. My dad went to jail 2-3 years after I was born for a while, I rarely saw him. He's an alcoholic if that matters. She was a single mother but she made it work and she worked hard. One of the bigger problems was that she took out all her agression and hatred of my father on me as well as work stress and etc. She dealt with sexual abuse growing up which I'm sure definitely affected her relationships and how she treated me as well. Anyways...

Cue me being abused from the age of 4-5 to about 17. Every day was hell. She was extremely strict and her perspective was warped. She was also pretty big in stature and had alot of strength. Examples of her being shitty: I've gotten beaten up badly once because HER room was dirty. The dishes weren't washed and I got beaten soon as I got home, even if there werent dishes when I left to school. If i walked too loud, id get my ass beat. She broke my nose for looking at her the wrong way on my 10th birthday when she brought me a cake I was allergic too(It had peanuts, she knows im slightly allergic but feigned ignorance..) It was more or less every day or every other day. She used her fists/elbows/extension cords/hangers/chairs/canes/bats/etc. Whatever she could find I was getting beaten with. I couldn't ever escape to my room for long because she would always call me every few minutes to get her things or to yell at me. She never drank or did drugs or anything. Whenever she was upset and I happened to be in front of her she'd kick me down the stairs to make me hurry up. She's put a knife to my neck before and had to be forcibly stopped by her bf of the time. Burned my christmas presents from other people (she didnt get me anything that year) and just other really shitty things. The only thing I will say, she tried really hard to make up for it with video games and electronics and etc. It didn't make a difference to me though, it never helped.

She controlled most aspects of my life. I got by with little petty revenges. Peeing in the lipton iced tea she drank. Rubbing her forks and spoons between ny buttcheeks before i served her dinner. Ignoring her screams for help when she had kidney stones (how tf am i supposed to help anyways??) But by the time i got to highschool I turned to alcohol. I resented her and the negative atmosphere affected who I was as a person. I started to be cold and uncaring. Calculated. She started kicking me out every few months telling me to find somewhere else to live by age 15. She sent me away to a different country for a year and tried to keep my passport but I made it back to the US with the help of the embassy and my step father (she'd already left by that time and found some other dude). I came back senior year with no credits for the prior grade which ended with me getting a GED. I spent most of the time i could with my best friend and started working shitty jobs. I was terrible at saving as i had accumulated loads of shitty habits while growing up so it didnt make much difference. She eventually told me that If i went to college, I would ALWAYS have a place to live until I finished. Cue my first 2 semesters at a 2 year college, I maintained a 3.7ish gpa. My teachers loved me and it was my escape. Towards the end of my 2nd semester during finals, i came home late one night around 10pm and my mother yanks the door open screaming in my face asking when I'll move out. I'm slightly drunk and decide to completely ignore her and walk to my room. If I opened my mouth, that day would be the day I blew up and cursed her out. I've rarely ever raised my voice at her because it never ended well. Now at this point im 19 and I've been doing school full time with no savings. Im also fairly fit and could easily take my mom at this point (Never laid a hand on her or any woman, i hate violence). I get to my room, she rips my door open, and starts yelling. I say nothing and stare at her. She walks away and called the police on me saying she thought id murder her and my younger siblings. I don't know where the fuck she got that idea from as she's the one who's nearly killed me many times.

I packed everything into a duffle bag and left 5 minutes afterwards. I failed all of my finals because I couldnt make it to my school. Things kinda spiraled and the next 2-3 years were me on and off homeless. I survived the best I could in a big city with no college degree and made alot of shitty choices due to my shitty habits. Eventually i found a profitable hobby that gave me meaning and through that i started to work my way up. Got my own apartment, had a full time job, and did my hobby on the side. I hadn't kept up contact with my mother at all but my younger sister who was old enough to have a phone found me on social media so i saw photos and such, she didn't have it anywhere near as bad but she did get beaten occasionally. My mother reached out via email all smiles asking how I've been. Now guys, ive always been envious of the relationship most ppl have with their moms so I gave her a chance and gave her a call. We talked for a few minutes and everything was civil and seemed like things would go okay but then...

She asked me what I've been up to the last few years and I told her honestly, that I was homeless for a while and struggled alot after what she did to me but I worked my way out of it. SHE LITERALLY LAUGHS. She laughed for a few seconds in a very condescending kinda chuckle and then said "I never did a thing to you so you don't know what abuse is! its your own damn fault you were homeless. So how about yo-" but by that point I hung up. I was speechless and fuming. I don't know what abuse is? OKAY BITCH. IVE SPENT TOO FUCKING LONG LETTING YOU DESTROY MY SANITY. NOW IS THE TIME.

There was a few things my mother didn't know. One, I knew for a fact that current well paying job she had was gotten on lies as she never got her college degree and lied about it on her resume. Two, I had access to all of her email accounts and cloud storage accounts since I was the one that set them up when I was younger and she never changes her passwords. Lastly, she DEFINITELY wasn't aware that from 13yrs old and onto the last time she hit me I took photos of ALL my bruises/marks/wounds/bloody noses saving them to my computer and then google drive. ON TOP OF THAT, my little sister had been sending me photos via social media of the bruises she got from my mom.

The first thing I did was compile ALL of those photos/videos into one folder. I then reached out to CPS in my city and explained that my siblings were being abused, how I was abused in the past, and that I had mountains of proof. Since ive called the cops on my mother before AND the thing that happened with my older sister, there was immediately a home visit. They arrived almost a day later with the police and coincidentally my mother was literally in the process of beating my younger sister when they were knocking. Cue an Emergency removal of all my siblings from the house and my mother getting arrested though she was released hours later. (I was getting a day to day play by play because my mothers best friend is a blabber mouth and everything my mother said she told her son who relayed it to me without either of their knowledge.) I sent CPS all the evidence and there's a legit case against my mother now. The next day I emailed and then called up her job to inform them that she had lied about having a very necessary college degree as well current events in her life which sparked a background check. She was fired days later. Say adios to 75k and a blacklist in the only industry you know how to work. I then spitefully deleted every cloud account and email address I ever made for her, which was all of them which im sure will make keeping up with alot bills and etc nearly impossible. I then anonymously reported her to the IRS because of the tax fraud she committed for years by claiming people's children that weren't hers with ALOT of detailed information since I lived with her while she did it.

So now, my mother lost all her kids and her job. Im meeting with a caseworker from CPS next week to talk more about what happens moving forward but I do know they're NOT going back. Idk how she's gonna pay her mortgage now and survive. I'm sure she's gonna get a call from the IRS who'll be looking for a few thousand dollars she owes them. She also has to go back to court in a few months, not exactly sure what she was charged with but ill update when I find out how everything turns out.

Side Note: She isn't aware im the cause of any of this. I plan on keeping tabs on her and waiting until it seems like she's close to death before I tell her it was all me and I peed in her lipton.

TL;DR - My mother abuses me badly for most of my life as well as my younger siblings. I have to drop out of college and support myself after she drove me to homelessness. She proceeds to laugh at me about me being homeless and denys abuse. So I ruined her life by getting my younger siblings removed and her arrested, making her lose her job, reported her to the IRS, and essentially set her up so that the remainder of her life is full of disaster and hardships.

(source) (story by howbout_that_lipton)