#and not the one RECEIVING it. he spends SO long being absolutely powerless. forced to run + hide + be locked out of his own mind

[debtsunpaid]

these expressions are so 💅??? the completed klavi-jalla merger creates the cuntiest demigod alive i fear.

[manicpixiedreamedwins]

#THANKS FOR SAYING THIS#it’s really important that you can’t force people to talk about trauma on a specific timeline. it’s on their time and when they are ready#i imagine edwin has enough inklings over the years but he wants to respect charles’ autonomy in discussing it#also - right before charles cuts off the conversation about dads in the woods he points out that he doesn’t think edwin’s dad would have#approved of him which i think just. says so much as well. charles isn’t ready to talk about it#about how much he values edwin. that he thinks about how edwin’s long dead father would have received him. colored by his experiences with#his own dad#but i digress - point is - edwin makes himself available consistently for these conversations especially after crystal mentions it to him#and following on probably years of shut down conversations this is him being Overtly like I Am Here For You in a way that isn’t their usual#pattern because he thinks it’s what charles might need to finally be comfortable#but in the end he’s just. waiting until charles is and that’s the most that he can do as someone who loves charles#provide the unconditional acceptance (which he does) and the safe place to land when charles is ready (which he does)#in addition charles did not owe edwin a detailed recounting of his trauma story before being ready to share and it is#both loving and respectful that edwin does not push him on it#their experience of sharing the trauma is paralleled in that charles clearly had NO idea about the doll house and edwin would have wanted to#keep it that way to avoid hurting charles#and just because edwin is able to throw around spending 70 years in hell in conversation#he is ALSO not ready to talk about aspects of his time in hell with charles#and very possible charles has not wanted to hurt edwin by making him feel just as powerless to have saved charles from his dad#and so they don’t push each other#dbda#payneland

@wordsinhaled yeah this is absolutely why I made this post like. I don’t know where people got the idea you MUST talk about your trauma when prompted and also you should be asking people about deep personal trauma they went through before they are ready, but it seems kind of prevalent currently. I actually think Charles and Edwin do a nice job being gentle with each other on these topics for the most part. They could do better job communicating in general (especially the part where they seem insecure about losing one another to new people in their lives) but. This is not the problem.

Also “also - right before charles cuts off the conversation about dads in the woods he points out that he doesn’t think edwin’s dad would have#approved of him which i think just. says so much as well” this kills me every time like. It reads so much like the kind of insecurity that happens when you’re dating someone and they take you home and you’re so worried about what their parents think of you? Charles?? HELLO??

Okay look— gently, I’m going to need people to stop dunking on Edwin for not “getting” how bad Charles’ home life was for a few reasons.

We see in episode two that Charles tells Edwin he doesn’t want to talk about dads. While this may seem small, I have to wonder how many little throw away conversations over the years they have had like this. In this moment we know what Charles’ dad was like because he told Crystal— but this conversation is all the insight we ever get into Edwin’s dad. They don’t talk about family because Charles shuts the conversation down. And Edwin stops, because he is trying to make Charles feel comfortable.

In the Devlin House Edwin starts to notice something is wrong, but Charles brushes Edwin’s observation aside. Once Charles is stuck in the loop though, Crystal is pretty firm with Edwin that he should have known this was because of Charles’ Dad- to be fair, she is probably stunned that they’ve never talked about any of it in thirty years. But the interactions tell us a lot.

So Edwin changes tactics. Clearly this is important somehow. He tries again when Charles is talking to him while he’s reading Monty’s astrology book…

Only he gets shut down again.

And then again. Edwin is trying to connect but he’s made a few unsuccessful attempts. (He does manage to talk to Charles after they solve The Case of the Two Dead Dragons, but that’s mostly because Charles decides he is ready to talk when Edwin reaches out).

It is not that Edwin doesn’t care or isn’t trying. It’s that Charles was not letting him in, which is completely understandable, and we all make choices about when we feel ready to talk about what happened to us and how much to share of it. I don’t actually think letting Charles lead the conversation was as bad as a lot of people are making it out to be, because pushing him to talk before he was ready also could have been a lot. But then they talk on Charles’ terms and Edwin manages to offer comfort a way he needs (although that is, admittedly, probably just scratching the surface).

Anyway, that’s my thought of the day and it was full of typos because sleepy

[baepop]

Written in the Stars

You’re the girl of Jungkook’s dreams, literally. The only problem: you’re taken by his best friend

Word Count: 26.2k

Pairing: Jungkook x You x Taehyung

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Pining, Soulmate Au, Plot based around supernatural dreams

A/N: Back again with another love triangle. Are you even surprised? I wanted to write this story after finding out Jungkook really liked the movie “Your Name”

Jungkook has always been a true romantic, a believer in kismet and fate, convinced there is only one person out there in the world made specifically for you.

You might attribute these beliefs to his obsession with dramatic anime movies, the fluffy K-dramas he binges, or to simply watching his own parents happily grow old together. But the truth was that he had an actual reason to believe the way that he did. What one might mistake for blind faith, the boy ascertained to be proven conviction, scientific even.

The fact of the matter was that he had concrete proof of this widely speculated notion being as real as he was.

His ascertations started at quite a young age, when the little boy with the scar on his cheek asked his mother a very complicated question in the kitchen. His brothers and father had already cleared out, leaving his mother to pick up after them. The little boy dutifully brought her the soiled dishes from the table into the kitchen, restating his question matter-o-factly when she stared at him in bewilderment. Mrs. Jeon stared at her youngest son of nine, her mind racing as to the possible reasons for his inquiry.

“Mom?” The boy tipped his head to the side, letting his buoyant hair fall to the side.

“I…why do you ask?” She posed her question as gently as possible so as not to scare him away. He was quite shy, so the last thing she wanted was to make him feel like he couldn’t confide in her.

But he simply shrugged, his large innocent eyes reflecting her confused expression within them. Of course, there wasn’t an ulterior motive to this question. What could he possibly know about true love?

The older woman smiled, putting on her dish washing gloves as she took the plates out of his hands.

She sighed, contemplating dreamily as she recalled her own romance with his father. “How to know when you’re in love? Well…it’s not really something you know, but rather something you feel. It’s a natural feeling, as natural as being hungry or just realizing you like something.”

Jungkook thought for a minute before responding, “Then what does it feel like?”

“Hmm…you know when it’s cold, so I throw your blanket in the dryer for a few minutes before tucking you in, and you’re warm and comfortable before you drift to sleep?” The boy smiled and nodded enthusiastically. It was his most favorite thing in the world. “It feels like that, but emotionally.”

“Emotionally?” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows, unable to conceptualize being wrapped in a warm blanket in such an abstract way.

“Yes,” The woman gently poked the child’s chest where his heart would be. His gaze followed her finger before she began tickling his sides which earned a fit of laughter from the boy who shied away from her touch. She ruffled his head and ordered him to get the rest of the dishes from the table. He quickly obliged, but not before answering one last question.

“Jungkook! Do you…have a girlfriend at school?” The boy shook his head innocently before disappearing into the hall. She smiled to herself, wondering if he was telling the truth or if he just wanted to keep it a secret from his mother. She knew Jungkook wasn’t a secretive kind of kid, but she could still understand him not wanting to share things like that with his mom. She made a mental note to ask his father about it before bed.

What she didn’t know, however, was that this conversation would have more of an impact on the boy than she’d ever imagined.

Jungkook was experiencing something he never had before, something so out of the ordinary that he couldn’t ask anyone for advice about it for fear of sounding absolutely crazy. He could only try and get advice by asking out-of-the-blue questions to his mother because he knew she wouldn’t pry.

He had started dreaming of you, every single night, and he didn’t know what to make of it at first.

The dreams were mundane, ordinary slice-of-life reels of a foreign girl similar in age to him. For many hours of your day, he’d watch you wake up and get ready for school just as he would, going throughout your day, talking to friends and doing schoolwork. Then you’d come home and spend time with your sisters, play with your cat and watch anime or other things girls his age might do. None of it thrilled him in the least, and if he was being honest, it freaked him out, especially because he didn’t know who the heck you were.

He wasn’t yet at the age where girls were particularly interesting to him. None he knew liked video games or looking at bugs and therefore the female gender was unappealing to his boyish heart.

It was frustrating when he couldn’t seem to convince his brain that he didn’t want to dream of you anymore. Night after night, he’d be forced to watch your life as someone in a secret audience, much to his annoyance.

It wasn’t until you’d entered middle school and started getting bullied that his dreams began to impact him deeply. He’d always remember your first day at school when that mean older girl pulled on your buns and told you how ugly you were, and the way you pretended it didn’t hurt you until you got home and cried on your bed for hours. He’d felt so powerless, unable to help or even talk to this person he seemed to know intimate details about for so long. It was then that he realized his attachment to you for the first time.

Jungkook was always pretty popular at school, so he’d never had to worry about being bullied by anyone. And thanks to you, his popularity only seemed to increase over the years when Jungkook made it a point to stand up against bullies on behalf of others. After watching your struggle at school, he knew how deeply someone’s words and actions could affect others, and he didn’t want anyone feeling the way you did, ever.

Thankfully, his qualms were lessened when you’d both gone into high school. You seemed to be having a better time there, quickly finding a group of people with similar tastes and ideals to yours. He’d found it ironic how your lives seemed to be on a balancing scale. Whenever he was having a hard time, he’d go to sleep at night and watch you having the time of your life. So, while high school was good to you, Jungkook struggled with his studies, earning disappointing grades that he’d fearfully bring home to his stern parents.

The truth was that he wasn’t much of the academic type. He always preferred to be out in the sunshine, playing with some kind of ball or dancing or making music. He loved doing the things that made him feel most alive, and sitting in a classroom answering tiresome questions simply wasn’t that.

You, however, excelled in school, so much so that you had already been taking advanced classes by your third year. It was becoming apparent to Jungkook that you and he were very different people, but it had been so long that he’d been keeping tabs on your life that it didn’t matter. It was weird, the way his thoughts seemed to drift to you and what you might be doing while he sat in class chewing on his pencil.

He knew everything about you and your family and your friends. He knew what your favorite colors were, what your favorite flavors were and what kind of genres you preferred the most. He even knew about the secret piercing you had gotten despite not telling a single soul about it. You had skipped school alone to get it done in a sketchy part of town, and then spent the rest of that week secretly caring for it from infection. It was the first time he’d felt he could relate to you, and he found the thought funny enough to snigger about during silent times in class.

But as time went by, Jungkook was having a hard time being okay with it all. He knew he didn’t have much of a choice when it came to dreaming about you, he just wanted to know why.

Why you? Why still? What did this all mean? Was this the universe’s way of keeping him grounded? A way to show him that even when he felt singled out, there were still people on the other side of the world going through similar situations? Or maybe this was a superpower that he didn’t know how to control? Jungkook had visited countless comic bookstores in the city, trying to find a story similar to his own, anything that might give him guidance or a nudge in the right direction. Was he psychic? He didn’t feel psychic exactly. He’d never been able to dream about anyone else let alone tap into anyone else’s thoughts or lives the way he had with you. If this was truly his superpower, he’d consider the universe to be a cruel entity, considering this wasn’t exactly what he meant when he wished he had special abilities as a little boy.

He tried to ignore the doubt sitting in the back of his mind, the thoughts that negated you being a real person. He’d thought about it before, about the possibility that he had completely made you up, even considered the possibility that he was mentally unwell, but whenever he’d dream about you, he’d feel it deep in his bones, the realness of it all. He knew you were real and out there in the world. He just knew.

Jungkook continued to question the purpose of his dreams and look out for signs throughout high school, which he eventually received in the form of an animated movie. The tale of star-crossed lovers being connected in such a supernaturally convoluted way yet still finding their way to each other in the end had affected him in ways he couldn’t describe. He thought back to his mother’s words, about feeling so warm and comfortable when it came to being with the person you were meant to be with.

Were you his soul mate? The idea intrigued him. He’d always thought of you as a comrade, someone he was sharing his life with in the strangest way possible. But it all felt one-sided, how was he to know you might have those strong feelings about him? Had you been dreaming about him too? These questions kept Jungkook up at night before he’d finally close his eyes and tune into the latest occurrences of your life.

In this instance, he’d watched you get taken to the parking lot by some douchebag in your school that he had already disliked since your freshman year. Jungkook had woken up that morning frazzled and disoriented after watching you accept his confession of love. It seemed when he was becoming comfortable with the idea of you being the one person meant for him, you had finally decided to start dating. And with that guy no less.

Jungkook wished he could come see you, to tell you not to give this guy a chance to break your heart, but he knew you wouldn’t listen to him. Because as weird as it would be for him to tell someone about his dreams, it would be weirdest of all to tell you about them, if you hadn’t been dreaming about him too. Besides, he wouldn’t even know how to get to you, he only owned a bus pass and didn’t have any money.

And thanks to your decision to start dating, what had turned into mildly entertaining dreams had become his own personal hell for the next year.

He’d try to stay up as late as possible so he only had to watch a little bit of your life before waking up for school in the morning, and it was starting to take a toll on him. He didn’t care though, he’d deal with being tired just so he didn’t have to watch you pretend to be happy while in a toxic relationship. When he’d witnessed the way you held back tears after your dick-head of a boyfriend made a comment about your weight, Jungkook decided to form a strike against his subconscious. The boy began staying up late playing video games well into the early hours of the morning before getting ready for school. His friends commented on the bags under his eyes, and his teachers casted worried glances in his direction when they’d see him dozing off in class, but nonetheless Jungkook persevered.

And thanks to his stubbornness to sleep at night, he discovered another clue about his supposed superpower: He could only dream of you at night. Whenever Jungkook would take a nap during the day to supplement his lack of nocturnal sleep, he didn’t dream of you. Ironically, it was the most rest he had gotten in years, and the realization only served to confuse him even more.

After some time had passed with him silently protesting your relationship, he had finally given in and went to bed at a reasonable hour, if only to make sure you were okay, because as much as he hated who you were with, he still cared about you.

Much to Jungkook’s surprise, a lot had occurred in the short span of time he had been staying away from you. You were dealing with a messy breakup while preparing for a huge trip abroad with your class. Jungkook watched eagerly, trying to get important details from the conversations you were having. You hardly confided in your parents or sisters about what was going on at school, but luckily you had been keeping a journal, so he was able to get the juicy details of your life as you wrote out your feelings. Apparently your now ex-boyfriend had threatened you, telling you not to go on your class trip to Korea or else he’d break up with— Korea!? Jungkook was so surprised he had almost managed to wake himself up. You were coming to his country?! Where exactly?! When?!

The boy no longer cared about the details of your breakup. He only cared about your coming to see him. Well, he knew you weren’t hopping on a plane to go see him, per se, but this still felt like Jungkook’s chance to finally meet you.

Jungkook woke up for school with a pep in his step. His cheerful demeanor freaked his friends out, but was too preoccupied to notice. He just wanted to go on with his day as quickly as possible so he could go to bed and learn more things about your trip.

Unfortunately, he had been saddened to realize you weren’t in the best place mentally as of late since dealing with the breakup. Your ex-boyfriend had started a malicious rumor about breaking up with you because you had an STD, which wasn’t true of course, but to high schoolers, it doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, the damage would still be done. You threw yourself into your studies again and kept to yourself, your trip abroad being the only thing you now looked forward to.

As the final week leading up to your trip came and went quickly, Jungkook prepared himself. He had decided to go see you, no matter how scared he was to introduce himself. He couldn’t let such an opportunity pass him by, he’d even sneak out of his house if he had to.

Jungkook was only able to gather that you would be visiting famous places with your class like the National Museum and the War Memorial, even making it a point to go to Lotte World, but he wasn’t able to get the specific details of your visit in order to be at the right place at the right time. Still, he ascertained that he’d be able to coordinate once you landed in Korea. He’d at least know where you were staying then.

But something peculiar happened yet again: Jungkook stopped dreaming about you the day you were set to depart to Korea. Jungkook went to bed that night eagerly, excited to see how you’d felt about flying for the first time and your general reactions to his favorite city ever.

When he’d woken up after hours of darkness, he was confused and disappointed, but not enough to bring his mood down. He felt a tingling sensation, a feeling of knowing deep in his bones that you were close to him. Even if he hadn’t dreamt about you, it didn’t mean you weren’t still here, and so Jungkook skipped school that day and rode public transportation to Seoul early in the day. His heart beat erratically the closer he got, the overwhelming feeling of kismet painting his world in rosy shades. He couldn’t believe he was finally going to see you, the person he had been dreaming about since he was a small child, in person.

Jungkook practiced what he’d say when he saw you. He wanted it to be perfect, but as he went over his lines in his head, it suddenly occurred to him that you didn’t speak Korean, and he certainly didn’t speak your native language. He thought back to his dreams, trying to recall how he was able to understand everything going on, but unable to explain it to himself. It was much like trying to explain the dreams themselves. He just knew what was going on. He knew how you felt about things, even when you weren’t verbose. He also knew how other people thought and felt around you despite not speaking the same language. He would be completely confused if he were there with you in person instead of dreaming about you, so it seemed that there were different rules when it came to his intrusive dreams.

This perplexed Jungkook even further. He didn’t know where exactly you were, and even if he did, he didn’t know how to talk to you. The boy scratched his head worriedly, wondering if what he was doing was silly, but he was now almost at the city. There was no turning back now.

Jungkook ascended the steps of the subway and took in a deep breath. The air was a lot cooler in the city, though not as fresh. He looked around at the bustling crowds of people, feeling a bit out of place in his school uniform. He began walking in the same direction as everyone else, only stopping to buy flowers from a street vendor along the way. He figured if he didn’t know what to say to you, a pretty flower might be able to say what he couldn’t.

He didn’t want to scare you off by coming on too strong. Still, he wanted to convey his feelings for you somehow, to show you that you two were fated somehow, even if neither of you knew why exactly.

Jungkook walked around aimlessly for hours. As his feet grew tired, he realized how silly it was to assume he might run into you just by being in the same city. Seoul was huge, and the odds of that were slim. Still, if the universe had bothered to present you to him for so long, then maybe it would lend him a helping hand right now, too.

He made his way to all of the places he knew your class would visit. He didn’t have any money to go in to some of them, so he waited around to see if you might show up. When you didn’t, he began feeling even sillier about the entire ordeal. As the late afternoon approached, he reluctantly caught the train back home, knowing it’d be best that he arrived home at the same time as usual so his parents wouldn’t suspect him of playing hooky.

He rode the train home dejectedly, but still hopeful to see what your day was like when he’d go to bed that night.

But unfortunately, only darkness awaited him again.

Jungkook awoke more confused than ever the next morning. What did this mean? Was he losing touch with you? It would be ironic, since you were now physically closer to him than ever before. Was he losing his super lame superpower all of a sudden? The thought freaked him out. His dreams had effectively become a part of him and his identity, not to mention, he’d basically grown up with you. To suddenly not know about you every night was to relearn how to be alone again, which he hadn’t been for almost a decade. Jungkook quickly shook the thought from his mind.

Since his school was quick to call parents for any little thing, he wasn’t able to continue skipping school to go into the city, but he knew you’d still be there in the weekend coming up, so he settled for trying to get his dreams to come back to him so he could find you.

But as each night came and went without a sign of you, Jungkook grew increasingly anxious. He was no closer to finding answers than he was to finding you, and the thought made him feel helpless. Worst of all, he felt as if his image of you was already fading, despite having seen you every night for years. He tried his hardest to recall all of your features, but they came up hazily. He’d been so shaken by the realization that he pulled out a sheet of paper in class and began trying to sketch you in the middle of class. He came out with a drawing of a faceless girl in a school uniform, despite his best efforts. The ambiguous drawing mocked him, so he balled it up angrily and tossed it into his bag, deciding that it meant nothing if he decided it so.

Just as he had no control over beginning to dream about you, he had no control over continuing to do so, he’d soon realized, and the whole thing felt like a cruel joke. Was this the universe’s plan? To get him invested in someone unreachable only to yank them away when he was so close to getting to them?

On Friday night, Jungkook went to bed with his weekend outfit folded neatly at the foot of his bed. He was determined to head out bright and early and spend the entire day in the city searching for you. And much to his surprise, there wasn’t any darkness waiting for him as he drifted off to sleep.

You were on an airplane, looking out of the window and watching the sunset. Your classmates were also on the plane already sleeping. It turned out that your trip had gotten cut short due to a funding mix up at your school. You were disappointed, but you had had so much fun the last few days, so you decided to focus on being grateful for having the experience at all. By the time you were getting close to landing, Jungkook had woken up.

He sat upright, tears flowing freely from the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t crying exactly, but he should’ve been. Instead, he immediately fetched a sketchpad and began drawing you. He dragged the thin lead across the page continuously, slowly forming the image of you looking out of the plane window. It was you, of that he was certain. And although he was momentarily relieved, he hated the way someone who didn’t even know who he was could have such control over his life.

He laid back down and allowed himself to feel the deep sadness that washed over him. He had decided to believe in his initial suspicions. It turned out that the universe had been just as cruel and fickle as he suspected it to be.

Jungkook spent the rest of his senior year processing his feelings of anger in different ways.

He’d returned to his strike, staying up at night and sleeping during the day. He no longer wanted to be invested in your life as much as he already was, especially if his knowing you from afar was destined to stay that way forever.

He wasn’t mad at anything or anyone in particular, though sometimes he hated you for not coming to find him, as irrational as that was. Sometimes he hated himself for not being more capable of finding you, sometimes he hated your school for not giving him enough time, sometimes he just hated the universe for making him into this plaything he considered himself to be.

As you focused on college applications, Jungkook began spending less time at home and more time exposing himself to the night life in Seoul. He knew he had no plans of pursuing a University degree despite his parents’ encouragement. So instead, he did whatever came to mind, especially if it was something dangerous or out of the norm. He convinced himself he was simply trying to find himself, but a small kernel of truth inside of him suggested he was being destructive on purpose, only wanting to pursue things that would suggest he wasn’t the same boy as he’d always been, that he wouldn’t bend to the universe’s rules on who he was and consequently who he should be with. That his dreaming of you wasn’t a huge part of who he was.

The five years that followed his high school graduation were a bit of a blur. He’d moved out at 19 and into a house full of 6 other boys that he’d met in the city. He’d gotten an overnight job, a shit ton of tattoos, and a dog since then.

Jungkook now spent his nights bartending at a trendy club in Hongdae and snoring the day away in his room. Even the nightly conquests he’d bring home reflected the kind of life he was now living, fast-paced and wild.

Just as Jungkook had numbly flung himself into a lifestyle he knew nothing about growing up, he did the same with women, screwing his way through his Seoul without remorse. And just as he chose to think that his beliefs would be true simply because he could force them to be true, he believed he could find the one simply because he decided you weren’t. Of course, when he found an inability to connect with anyone that he’d bring home or meet on a random day, he blamed it on whatever was convenient. His reason for blowing off the girl who had cutely left her number on his nightstand last night: he couldn’t see himself being with a cat person. It would never work, or so he told himself as he stretched his tired muscles.

The groggy boy yawned and sat at the edge of his bed, petting his pit bull who had excitedly come to his feet as soon as he awoke. He felt bad for not being able to spend more time with his dog, but he was thankful one of his friends was always home to care for him when he couldn’t. Besides, the dog had grown more attached to his best friend anyway.

He peered into his tired eyes reflected back at him in his large mirror that faced his bed. He shook his long dark hair out of his eyes and flexed his muscles, watching his tattoos contort in the process.

“You are so fucken full of yourself.” Taehyung watched his friend from the doorway before the dog turned towards him, wagging his tail furiously. Tae was his favorite person in the house because he was home a lot and therefore spent the most time with him.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, flashing a cocky smile towards his friend before locating his shirt and throwing it on over his head.

“What time is it?” He yawned and stood up, patting the bed for his phone.

“Five. Come eat.”

Both of them descended the stairs once Jungkook found his cellphone in the pocket of his jeans sprawled on the floor. They joined the rest of their rowdy housemates at the dinner table, taking seats opposite of each other as Yoongi began serving them the fried rice he had slayed over.

As Jungkook rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he looked around the table and felt at ease. He’d managed to find himself in crazy situations since he’d left home, but the one thing he didn’t regret was befriending this group of boys. They’d taken him under their wing and offered him countless good advice when he really needed it. But most of all, he was grateful for his absolute best friend in the entire world, Taehyung.

They had gotten off to a rocky start when they first met, sizing each other up after one spilled a drink on the other during a party. After so long, neither of them remembered who started the altercation exactly, but they could both freely laugh about it since the whole thing was so stupid.

Jungkook and Taehyung ended up spending a lot of time together after that fateful party since they shared so many friends, and realized they had a lot more in common than they originally thought. It wasn’t long before they were as thick as thieves, going out together, getting kicked out of clubs together, giving each other poorly drawn tattoos and playing wingman when one desperately needed to get laid.

Though Taehyung was always as rambunctious as he was, Jungkook still knew he didn’t share that same chaos within himself that compelled him to be reckless. Taehyung was a good guy with a good head on his shoulders and a bright future ahead of him, so the closer they got, the more Jungkook encouraged him to go to college and put those brains of his to good use.

He ended up taking the advice, which is where he met his current girlfriend. Jungkook had been both happy and disappointed to hear the news. He saw how happy and smitten Tae was, but this meant he had lost his wingman, and it also undoubtedly meant they would spend less time together since he’d seen first-hand how girlfriends suck up a man’s free time. Jungkook wrinkled his nose at the thought as he chewed on his dinner, well, breakfast really.

“Something wrong?” Yoongi watched Jungkook make a face as he ate, worried about the taste of his food.

Jungkook quickly shook his head, “No hyung, this is really good, thank you.” Yoongi nodded in satisfaction, turning to look at Taehyung.

“What about you?”

Taehyung turned to the older boy in confusion, swallowing his food before reaffirming how good the rice was. Yoongi chuckled, shaking his head before he spoke, “Not that. Didn’t you have something you wanted to tell us?”

The table went quiet as Taehyung smiled, his cheeks twinged pink in embarrassment at the sudden focus on him. Jungkook quirked his brow, unsure as to what was going on. He was usually the first to know about Taehyung’s business, but his increase in hours at work had been keeping him out of the loop with all of the house’s plans.

Taehyung cleared his throat, making eye contact with the members of the table as he spoke, “So, as you all may or may not know, I have a girlfriend,” Someone made a sound of disgust which caused the table to erupt in laughter. Nonetheless, Taehyung persevered, “And it’s getting pretty serious so, I want to bring her over so you all can meet her. You guys are like my family so…” Another sound of disgust was made, but this time it came from Jungkook. Everyone laughed as Tae flung the bottle of sauce at him. The younger boy caught it, his squinted eyes alight with humor. “Since everyone has a day off this Saturday, I’m inviting her over then. I figured we could watch a movie or something. It’s been forever since we all hung out as a group too. Everyone’s so busy these days…”

The boys took turns looking around the table, feeling a bit guilty for not making more free time for each other. When they had first moved in, they were all inseparable, but now, it was rare for them to all be congregated to share a meal the way they all were now.

“Anyway, that’s it. Please don’t embarrass me.” Taehyung held his palms up together in the air, pleading his hyungs not to go out of their way to scare his girlfriend off.

Jungkook smiled as he watched his friends begin to crack jokes about how domesticated Taehyung had become after becoming taken. The brunette ate his food in silence, trying to focus on their words and not in the buzzing feeling he felt deep inside himself. He knew this feeling already, he had felt it before, and if this was years ago, he’d be unwilling to give it the time of day.

Before, he had wanted to drive you out of his life by force, and it had worked for a bit, but every once in a while, this feeling of nostalgia would wash over him, reminding him that somewhere out there in this big world full of billions of people, you existed, no matter how much he thought he didn’t care. Eventually, he just had to make peace with that, and allow you back into his thoughts bit by bit so that he wouldn’t die a resentful old man (as he put it).

It was a year ago, right around the time that Taehyung had announced his relationship to Jungkook. He had played his role as “the best friend who just wanted him to be happy”, but when he sat alone in his room that night, he’d fished out his sketchbook that was flung under the bed and began flipping through it. Countless drawings of you littered the pages, some in your school uniform, some in a sunhat as you helped your mother pull weeds from the yard, even some of you as a kid when you still wore buns to school. He allowed himself to look at these images fondly for the first time, allowing himself to feel connected to a part of himself he had carelessly thrown away.

Now that he was a man, he was able to make peace with the fact that things didn’t work out the way he had hoped they would as a child, and that that was okay. He even tried to draw you again for the first time in years, but the image came out looking like someone unrecognizable, so he had sighed and put the pad away again. Though he didn’t start sketching you again as he used to, he allowed himself to think about you from time to time, and that made all the difference.

He had grown comfortable with the idea of you again, even now as he tried but failed to listen to his friends talking, his mind wandered to you and what you might be doing. He wondered what your life was like now and what you looked like, if you went to college, if you had dated anymore douchebags, if you cut your hair short like you’d always wanted to but never had the bravery to do so. Jungkook sighed, turning back to his plate of food. None of it mattered anymore anyway.

Saturday came all too quickly and Jungkook wasn’t exactly excited about it. He knew Taehyung specifically chose this day to bring his girlfriend around because it was Jungkook’s day off, and it bothered him. He grumbled as he brushed his teeth, wondering why you were so special to have such a welcome wagon. You had been the person to take his best friend away, so to Jungkook, your arrival had been a personal offense. They were supposed to be bachelors in Seoul, but now he was flying solo and it just wasn’t as fun.

As the younger boy joined his friends in the living room on Saturday afternoon, he noticed Taehyung was missing.

“He went to go pick her up.” Jimin read the confused look on Jungkook’s face. The boy nodded, yawning as he plopped himself down on the couch. His dog came bounding in and jumped up on his lap. He patted the dog’s back as he leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing himself to doze off. He had been pretty restless, so he was tired, to say the least.

It wasn’t until his dog had excitedly jumped off of his lap and ran towards the door to greet the newcomers that Jungkook woke up again. The force of the dog using his lap for take-off shook the boy awake, causing him to come-to just as Taehyung and his girlfriend let themselves in. Jungkook yawned again, calling out sternly to his dog when he saw him barking and sniffing his guest excitedly. The dog didn’t listen, choosing instead to lay on his back and relish in the pets and scratches he was being treated with. Jungkook chuckled and stood up, making his way over to them to make sure his overly excited dog wasn’t bothering Tae’s girlfriend.

He watched as you scratched his dog in all the right places before looking up at him with the brightest smile on your face.

“Is he yours? He’s so cute!”

Jungkook froze as he stared into your eyes. His entire body went cold, buzzing with that feeling of nostalgia that became second nature to him. It was you. He hadn’t seen you in years, but it was definitely you, he was sure of it.

It was as if time had stopped when he stared into your eyes. He stopped breathing in that moment, unsure of which thoughts and feelings to process first.

He was immensely shocked, because he had long made his peace that he’d never meet you. He was dumbfounded, because of all places and circumstances for you two to meet, it had to be this way. Lastly, he fought the urge to bust out laughing, because of course fate would have him meeting you now when he had all but given up on any notion of kismet. Of course, you would pop back into his life now.

He drank your appearance in ravenously, willing himself to memorize your features all over again. It was as if staring at an old photograph. He was filled with a sense of awe and fondness at how so much time had passed yet it was as if no time had passed at all. You hadn’t changed in the slightest, he concluded. You still wore your hair exactly as you had in high school, and your eyes were still large and full of wonder, he was happy to find. He thought back to his sketch book and the countless drawings it held of you with your eyes big and round and full of stars in them.

But for all these thoughts and emotions coursing through his veins, he was unable to voice any of them, the feeling of déjà vu shaking him to his core and serving as reassurance that he hadn’t been crazy, he hadn’timagined you.

He stared open mouthed, unable to form the words he had always wanted to say to you, until Tae nudged his side. He looked at his best friend who had shot him a confused look, silently telling him to stop being weird. He had almost forgotten under which circumstances he was meeting you in. Almost.

“Oh, uh, yeah, he’s mine. Thanks.”

You nodded and stood up, coming to Taehyung’s side and grabbing a hold of your boyfriend’s hand. You peered at the five other curious eyes that stared back at you from the living room. Tae led you toward the couches and Jungkook hesitated before following right behind his traitorous dog.

“Everyone, this is Y/N, Y/N, this is Yoongi, Jimin, Jin, Hobi, Namjoon and Jungkook.”

You blushed, bowing at everyone and smiling shyly at Jungkook. You hated being the center of attention, so you wanted to get this introduction out of the way as soon as possible.

“Wow, she’s a foreigner.” Yoongi was the first to speak, eyeing you and Taehyung.

“Oh, did I not mention that?” Tae scratched his cheek in thought. He had mentioned it, but only to Jungkook.

“No, you didn’t. Does she speak Korean?”

“I do,” you spoke up, feeling awkward that they weren’t talking directly to you.

The boys looked at each other in wonderment, already impressed by Taehyung’s girlfriend. But the person who was most intrigued was Jungkook. A thousand questions burned at the tip of his tongue. He was dying to know how you’d gotten here, and how he might fit into that equation, though he desperately beat back that tiny flame of hope inside of himself that somehow you were both still meant to be.

“So, what are we watching?” Hobi opened a bag of chips and dug his hand in, already bored of the introductions. Relief flooded your system as they all switched to a topic that wasn’t about you.

Jungkook shifted his gaze to his feet, realizing he was still staring like a weirdo, so he decided to pop the dvd into his entertainment system while you and Taehyung situation yourselves on the floor. You cuddled into your boyfriend’s side, shyly leaning your head on his shoulder to shield yourself from any curious eyes.

Jungkook made his way towards his spot on the couch now occupied by his dog. He shooed the animal off and plopped back down, keeping his eyes trained on the television.

But try as he did, he couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering towards you. He could barely see you from the way you were sitting next to Taehyung below, but it was enough to know that you were there in the same room as him. His heart began racing as he thought about what this might mean.

You weren’t just a stranger in the street he happened to recognize, you were his best friend’s girlfriend. And apparently you two were serious, according to Taehyung himself. That wasn’t a term his best friend used lightly, so he knew you two were the real deal.

It was only then that his jealousy had begun to set in, though it felt out of place.

Jungkook had given up on you a long time ago, made his peace with the idea that you and he weren’t, in fact, fated somehow. So why was he suddenly green with envy at the thought that Taehyung of all people would be the one you ended up with. He had grown comfortable with the idea that some ordinary guy on the other side of the world whom he knew nothing about would be the guy you ended up with, not his best friend.

Jungkook balled his fists on his thighs. He let out a shaky breath and clenched his jaw, willing his eyes to go back to the movie on screen.

But when the chips made their way to you, he watched as you politely declined to have any. Jungkook began reminiscing to a few years ago when you had gone through a phase of eating a lot less to look a certain way. He pursed his lips, hoping you weren’t doing that kind of thing again.

He watched your hand, specifically the one enveloped inside of Tae’s grip. The blonde rubbed circles into your thumb which cause your shoulders to relax and for you to melt into Taehyung’s side. You had been tense, though Jungkook suspected as much since you’d never quite gotten over your aversion to attention as a child.

Suddenly the boy felt a pair of eyes burning at the side of his face. He turned and caught Hobi’s eyes on him. His housemate furrowed his eyebrows, gesturing over to you behind your back and mouthing the words why are you staring.

Jungkook pursed his lips. He had forgotten about his surroundings yet again. He absolutely wouldn’t be able to explain himself, so he settled for seeming like a creep in his friend’s eyes as he turned his focus back on the television. And he successfully kept his attention off of you, though he couldn’t quite stop his mind from drifting.

He began to wonder what exactly you had been up to for the past couple years that had landed you here, in his living room, watching a movie together.

The last thing he remembered about you was that you had taken a trip here after your shitty high school boyfriend had broken up with you. Had you liked Seoul enough to come back to and live? Had you pursued your interest in historical studies like the little nerd you always were? Clearly you had learned a thing or two since high school in the romance category, since you had said yes to such a great guy like Taehyung. Would you have been less happy if you had ended up with him? Jungkook shut his eyes and forced the intrusive thought out of his mind. There was no you and him, there never was, so there was no reason to waste time imagining it.

Before he knew it, the movie had ended, and he had no idea what is was even about. There were a few explosions, that’s about all he could recall.

As everyone stretched and commented on the movie’s ending, Jungkook stole a few glances in your direction. He instantly noticed how you had hid yourself behind Taehyung a bit, listening attentively but shying away whenever someone looked at you. In an effort to get away from Yoongi’s stare, your eyes landed on Jungkook’s which had already been on you. You blushed and looked down at your feet, feeling socially overwhelmed. Jungkook fought the urge to be protective over you, to get in between you and the curious stares and to ask you if you were okay. But no matter how much of a right he felt to do these things, he knew he couldn’t, so he was happy when Taehyung looked down and finally noticed your blushing face. He looked up at Yoongi and quirked a brow at him.

“You want to take a picture? It’ll last longer!” Yoongi chuckled at Tae’s outburst but nonetheless turned away from them. He challenged anyone else with a stern look who might dare to make you feel uncomfortable. Each of the boys looked away, rubbing the backs of their necks like little boys who had been caught teasing the new girl.

Jungkook cleared his throat, taking this moment to speak to you for the first time.

“So…Y/N… how did you get to be in Korea, if you don’t mind me asking.” The hard line in Taehyung’s lips softened into a smile. He felt glad that at least one of his friends was being polite. Your boyfriend turned towards you, giving you an encouraging smile.

You peered up at Jungkook from between your eyelashes, the blush slowly leaving your face. “Well, I came to Seoul once in high school, and I really liked it. I ended up applying to Yonsei shortly after. I wasn’t expecting to get in, but I did, and I’ve been here ever since.”

Jungkook nodded thoughtfully, slowly piecing together the last couple years of your life he had been absent for.

“So…you’re still in school then?”

“No, actually, I graduated last year. I met Taehyung during my graduation in fact! It’s a funny story.” You smiled up at your boyfriend who was beaming down at you. He hugged you closer to his side, recalling that day vividly.

Someone made a noise of disgust, breaking you two out of your moment. Taehyung launched himself at Jimin while everyone laughed, including you. You giggled quietly as you watched your boyfriend wrestle his friend to the ground. Jungkook was enamored with you, that he couldn’t deny. He had so many more questions, but he knew it’d be weird to give you the third degree right now, so he took the opportunity that everyone’s attention was averted to slip quietly upstairs to his bedroom. He had grown mentally exhausted and he wanted a chance to recoup in the solace of his bedroom.

As he plopped himself on his bed and stared up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head, the same words he had been trying to force out of his head were now running rampant through his mind like a broken record. If I hadn’t given up on us, would I be where Taehyung was at now? Should I have waited for you?

The boy sighed and stood up, crouching down under his bed to fish for his sketch pad then locating the pencil he had chucked onto his nightstand. He got to work right away, sketching a blushing girl, giggling at something a few feet away. He spent extra time on her features, making sure he got them exactly right this time. He paused to look at it periodically, ruminating on what was missing before he added a detail here and there.

Jungkook wasn’t sure how much time had passed before there was a heavy knock at his door. He opened the door only to find Hobi leaning against the doorframe, staring at Jungkook with a weird expression on his face. He let himself into the boy’s room without invitation, something that always annoyed Jungkook to no end.

“Can I help you?” the brunette closed the door and turned to his hyung who had already made himself at home on his bed. His new guest eyed the sketch pad on the bed before turning back to his younger friend.

“What’s up with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You seem weird, can’t put my finger on it though.” Hobi squinted as he stared at Jungkook, willing for him to cough up any details about Taehyung’s girlfriend that he didn’t know. “What do you have against Y/N?”

The question caught Jungkook off guard, causing him to look around the room and stutter. “I— I don’t know what you’re referring to hyung. She’s a nice girl, why would I have anything against her?”

Hobi continued squinting at Jungkook. He knew him to be a terrible liar, which couldn’t be more obvious in this moment. This only served as more confirmation that something fishy was going on.

“Well, you couldn’t stop staring at her, and the first chance you got, you left. You must know something.” Hobi leaned back on the bed and felt the pad brush up against his fingers. Since Jungkook wasn’t budging, he decided to pick it up and flip through it. Jungkook froze as he watched someone looking at his drawings for the first time ever. Would he know who they all were?

He watched Hobi carefully, noticing how his dull eyes had lit up in recognition. His eyebrows shot up as a slow whistle left his puckered lips. Shit.

“Holy shit—”

“Let me explain.”

“You’re in love with Tae’s girl?!” Hobi turned toward the boy with pure humor rearranging his features. He had caught the bastard red handed.

“No, I’m not!” Jungkook ground his teeth together as he stomped over to his bed and ripped the pad out of his friend’s hands.

“Yes, you are!! You totally are dude. There’s like a million drawings in here of her! When did you have time to do all of these!?” Hobi spoke in between incredulous laughter.

Jungkook sighed impatiently, looking back towards the door in fear that someone might overhear.

“Shut the fuck up! You have no idea what you’re talking about right now.”

“So, what is it then?” Hobi leaned back, eyeing his friend suspiciously. There wasn’t much the younger boy might be able to say that would convince him otherwise, but he gave him the benefit of the doubt, nonetheless.

Jungkook sighed again, dragging his feet as he moved beside Hobi. He sat down heavily, placing the pad on Hobi’s lap reluctantly.

“I always date my drawings.” Jungkook didn’t offer anything more, so Hobi let his curiosity get the best of him and flipped the book open once more. He looked at the bottom left corner of the first page, furrowing his eyebrows while reading the date once, twice, and one more time.

“This is from…years ago…” He turned to another page, and then another, finally realizing that today wasn’t Jungkook’s first encounter with Tae’s girlfriend.

“Bro…this is fucked up.” He chucked the book back on the bed, turning to Jungkook whom was regarding him shamefully. “Does Tae know about this?”

Jungkook shook his head solemnly. “He doesn’t have to know either. I’m staying out of the way, so don’t say anything to him.”

Hobi thought for a moment. He wasn’t used to being Jungkook’s confidante. That role had been taken by Tae from the beginning. He was conflicted, since they were both good friends of his. He didn’t want to be in the middle when this would undoubtedly blow up in Jungkook’s face, but he didn’t want Tae to think him a traitor for staying quiet either. But what would he even be staying quiet about?

“So, what exactly went on between you two? Did you two grow up together or something? She didn’t seem to know you when she first got here.”

Jungkook sighed, realizing he would have to risk sounding crazy in order to get Hobi to understand the unique situation he was in.

“That’s because she doesn’t know who I am. But I’ve always known who she was.”

“What are you some kinda stalker?!”

Jungkook deadpanned at Hobi who pursed his lips, promising not to interrupt anymore.

“It’s…hard for me to say this, so be open minded, if you can. I’ve had these…visions,” Jungkook fearfully peered at his friend who was staring back at him in confusion, “so to speak, since I was a child. They were all about her, and it’s not like I chose this, or anything, they just kind of happen. But it was hard for me to recall her face whenever I wasn’t seeing these…visions…so I started sketching her whenever I could, to remember. I know it sounds weird, but please believe me, I have no reason to lie.”

When Jungkook hadn’t heard anything, he looked over at his friend who was staring down at the floor in contemplation. Hobi was conflicted between believing Jungkook had truly lost his marbles and believing even a sliver of what he was saying. Hobi never believed in anything supernatural of that sort, so it was hard for him to process his words. Still, if there was any possibility that he wasn’t going to go rat Jungkook out to Tae in the next minute, it all depended on whether he believed Jungkook’s innocence. He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t intrigued, but the thought of Jungkook making all of this up to convince him they weren’t fooling around being Taehyung’s back seemed a bit much.

“So, let me get this straight. You expect me to believe that you have all of these drawings and know intimate things about Taehyung’s girl, not because you two are hooking up in secret, but because you have these weird fortune telling powers? Do you think I’m an idiot or something?”

Jungkook sighed again, “I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s the truth. There’s nothing else to it.”

Hobi thought for a second. He had fully expected his friend to blow up on him and get defensive, and when he didn’t, he was even more inclined to hear him out.

“Okay…if this bullshit is all true, then tell me some things about her that only you would know.”

Jungkook quirked a brow, wondering how that would prove his innocence to Hobi, but nonetheless he complied.

“Well,” Jungkook flipped through all of his memories of your life in his mind, recalling a ton he could choose from, “she auditioned for the cheerleading squad in her middle school, but she got denied because she couldn’t even do a cartwheel. Oh, and she used to have a secret pet. She found this dying kitten on her way home from school one day and she wanted to take it home, but she knew her parents wouldn’t be okay with that, so she snuck it in and kept it in her room. She fed it and bathed it, but it died a week later, and she was so broken up about it for a long time.” Jungkook thought some more, “When she turned 14, her parents finally let her go to the movies with her friends without parental supervision. She decided to stuff her bra with toilet paper before going, but it fell out during the movie,” Jungkook began sniggering, remembering the mortification you felt in that moment, “so she quietly pulled it all out and left it under her chair. OH and she skipped school one time to get a belly button ring that ended up getting infected.”

“OKAY, that’s enough! Jeez.” Hobi stood up from the bed exasperatedly. There was no denying Jungkook knew some pretty weird details about you, but there was only one way to find out if they were real or not. “Come on, dinner’s ready.”

Jungkook followed Hobi back downstairs where everyone awaited at the dinner table. He sat across from the red head, trying his best not to look in your direction even when he could feel your eyes on him. He just wanted to get through this meal as quickly as possible so he could retreat back into his room. It was funny how back then he wanted nothing more than to spend time with you, and now after all this time he wanted nothing more than for you to disappear through the same door you had come from.

“So, Y/N,” Hobi cleared his throat while everyone looked up at him. You looked down the table towards him, startled to hear him calling you so loudly. Jungkook’s head snapped up in his direction, a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach forming quickly, “I feel like I hardly know you. You ever had any pets?”

Everyone turned toward you as you thought for a second. Your voice was small, barely heard above the television that played in the background.

“Umm, no not really. I wasn’t allowed to have any growing up.”

Hobi shot Jungkook a look as the younger boy grimaced, realizing what he was trying to do.

“Okay…ever gotten denied from a sports team?”

The boys made faces at Hobi, wondering why his questions were so oddly specific. Tae shot him a warning glance, turning back to you as you mulled over his question.

“Does cheerleading count?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up, and he turned towards Hobi who had mirrored the same expression.

Taehyung smiled down at you, “Babe, I didn’t know you wanted to be a cheerleader at some point.”

You smiled back at him bashfully, “It was in middle school actually, but I couldn’t do any acrobatics to save my life.” You giggled at memory. What was once painfully humiliating was now a fond memory to you, and it had affected Jungkook in the same way. When he experienced things along with you, he felt them too as if they were happening to him. But your memories aged within him just like his own, he was happy to find.

“Hm. Interesting. Well, as you can see here, we’re big fans of tattoos and piercings. Got any of your own?”

“What the fuck kind of question is that?!” Taehyung growled at the loud mouth redhead sitting a few feet from him. You clutched at your boyfriends’ sleeve, letting him know you didn’t find an issue with his curiosity.

“Well, not really no. I had a belly button piercing once but I took it out. It was way too much work.”

Taehyung turned to you, speaking in a low tone. “Are you serious? Wait that’s actually really hot. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You giggled, getting embarrassed, “I never really told anyone about that actually. It was my way of being a rebel in high school.” Taehyung chuckled at your confession, pulling on your cheek to show you how adorable he thought you were.

Hobi focused on his meal during the remainder of the dinner, a look of torment shone on his face that no one bothered to question him about. Jungkook felt a twinge of guilt, knowing he had put Hobi in a weird predicament by sharing something so inexplicable with him. But what was he supposed to do, risk making both you and he look like adulterers in a single bound?

Jungkook counted the seconds until you would leave, but goddammit, the time just never came. He was finding less and less excuses to slip away and not get to know Tae’s girlfriend, and at the end of the night when everyone was tired and heading to bed, Taehyung had excused you both and gone straight into his bedroom for the night.

Jungkook wasn’t sure why he expected otherwise, knowing how Taehyung operated with women. How could he have expected you two to be celibate? The boy begrudgingly went upstairs and into his bedroom, flinging himself onto his bed. He wasn’t tired in the slightest since he was used to being at work at this time.

He had deliberately not made any plans tonight for the purpose of meeting you, which he was now deeply regretting as he recalled how thin the wall that his bedroom shared with Tae’s was.

Jungkook quickly hopped up and fetched his guitar from its stand, deciding he’d practice his music all night if he had to, though realistically, he knew Tae’s longest time was about 40 minutes, so that wouldn’t be necessary at all.

Jungkook strummed on his strings a few times before remembering to fetch his song book in case he had any ideas for lyrics.

During the brief silence as he walked over to his desk, he heard your distinct giggle from the other side of the wall. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling through flared nostrils before returning to his guitar.

By the time the sun was rising, he had written and rehearsed an entire song. Of course, it was about you. He just couldn’t get you out of his stupid head no matter what he did. You’d ruined him all over again and you’d only been back in his life for less than a day. He decided he’d hate you from now on as he threw on his hoodie to step outside for a morning cigarette.

He’d hate your face, he’d hate your blush, he’d hate your stupid giggle, and he’d hate your nerdy tendencies. There was nothing about you that he’d allow himself to love or even like. That was the only way he was going to make it out of this situation in one piece.

But as he stepped out into the patio and made eye contact with you, all of those declarations melted away. He loved all of those things about you, and he always would, so he tried even harder to push back against the way his inner self wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms and tell you all the things about him that you’d missed over the past 24 years.

You had snuck out of Tae’s bed for a morning cigarette as well, but you realized you hadn’t brought a lighter with you, so you settled for taking in some cool fresh air. When Jungkook came out to join you, you offered him a warm smile, remembering how nice he had been to you the night before, so it was a shock to see the way his eyes and his jaw hardened under your gaze. He seemed to have grown an aversion to you, or were you just unaware at how generally disliked you were around here?

Jungkook let the door close behind him with a bang as he took his cigarette off of his ear and popped it into his mouth. He fished the lighter from his pants and began trying to light it as you popped your own cigarette into your mouth.

You watched as he lit his cigarette and inhaled greedily before exhaling tiredly into the cool morning air.

“Umm,” You looked up at the boy who was busy pretending you weren’t there. He stiffened at the sound of your voice before hesitantly looking over to you. His eyes widened at the sight of the cigarette in your mouth. “Can I borrow your lighter?”

Jungkook furrowed his brow, yanking the cigarette from in between your lips quickly.

“Y/N what are you doing!? You don’t smoke!”

You were shocked at the way he felt comfortable enough to do such a thing, even speaking to you as if he knew you. You stared at each other, the moment tense with many things unsaid. Suddenly, he realized his mistake, looking away from you to compose himself. Of course, you didn’t know how well he knew you. You’d always found these things disgusting. What changed?

Jungkook decided it would be best to just play this whole thing off as a joke, but when he extended the cigarette back out to you, he felt conflicted with himself. As much of hypocrite that he was being in this moment, he didn’t want to encourage your newfound habit, so he chucked the cigarette into the grass just before you could wrap your fingers around it.

You stared open mouthed as you watched the stick land on the dirt. There was no way you wanted to put your mouth on it now. Your eyes watered, looking back up at the boy who was being inexplicably mean to you. Between the odd stares and the whispering last night, and now this, you had just about had enough.

“What the hell did I do to you!? To any of you?! You’re all so…” You struggled to find the words to say, then realized it probably wasn’t smart to blow up on Tae’s best friend right after meeting him. So you groaned and turned away, marching back upstairs to your boyfriend’s room before you embarrassed yourself by crying from being overwhelmed in front of Jungkook.

Jungkook sighed once he heard the door to Tae’s room close. He continued sucking on the cigarette, mentally scolding himself for not handling the situation better. Part of him was thundering, angry that he hadn’t done everything he could to keep you there with him as long as he could. He knew he couldn’t listen to that part of himself though, not if he didn’t want to cross any lines he couldn’t come back from.

Jungkook stomped the flame out of his cigarette before going back upstairs and finally submitting to his exhaustion. But just as he nodded off to sleep, he realized he was still awake. Or was he?

He was looking up at the ceiling for a while, until he realized it wasn’t his ceiling, it was Tae’s ceiling, and you were the one looking at it.

He felt a thrill running through him. He hadn’t dreamed of you in years, and it still felt as natural to him as if he’d never stopped.

You were lying next to Tae as he slept, trying to calm yourself down so that you could go back to sleep peacefully. You were fuming, playing the events of this morning over and over in your head. It felt surreal for Jungkook to see himself as a guest star in his dreams of you. For so long, the dreams felt like something so detached from himself, as abstract as the very concept itself.

Although you were seeing him in a negative light, he was still beside himself that for the first time, he wasn’t the only one thinking of you. You were finally thinking of him too.

It was better this way, for you to hate him instead of feel for him the complicated feelings he felt for you. He watched as you drifted off to sleep, and so his dream went dark for the remainder of his sleep, not that he minded anyway.

Three loud and decided consecutive knocks interrupted the quietness of Jungkook’s bedroom. It was late in the evening and Jungkook was busy styling his hair before heading off to work. Normally he’d be annoyed by the intrusion, but he recognized those knocks by now. Tae’s knuckles hitting solid wood always sounded like bullets.

Jungkook sauntered over to the door and opened it before heading back to the mirror. He didn’t bother asking his best friend what was up or even making eye contact with him, he knew if Tae ever had something to say he’d just say it.

“Getting ready for work?” Jungkook grunted in response, putting his comb down and picking up his hair spray. “Alright, well I won’t hold you up then. I just wanted to ask you personally about what happened the other day. Y/N said you were really mean to her…”

Taehyung observed his friend closely for a response. He had been surprised to hear you two hadn’t actually gotten along since he was under the impression that you two had hit it off quite well. Surely it was a misunderstanding?

Jungkook struggled to conceal his smirk. Nerd’s still a tattle tale I see.

“Oh, really? I didn’t think I was being mean at all.” Jungkook looked over at Taehyung innocently.

The older boy sighed in frustration. “Okay well, whatever the case, can you please just fix it?”

Jungkook quirked a brow. “Why do you care so much?”

“Please, dude! C’mon do this for me! I really need her to be comfortable coming over! She doesn’t like fucking at her place with all her roommates around and I really need to get laid.”

Jungkook snorted and turned back to the mirror. He didn’t see how that was his problem in the slightest. In fact, he should be the last person on this earth to worry about it.

“Jungkook c’mon!”

The younger boy audibly groaned, quickly becoming tired of this conversation.

“What do you want me to do if she doesn’t like me!?”

“I don’t know man, show her your nice side? Say something nice to her? Spend a little time together? Fuck if I know what girls need in this situation…” Jungkook grimaced. He didn’t like the sound of having to spend quality time with you one bit. “C’mon dude, you used to be my trusty wingman. Do this for me!”

Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the buzzing in his veins.

“Okay, fine! Fuck!”

Taehyung’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. He knew he could count on his best friend to get him laid.

“Alright, I’m outta here. Thanks dude, seriously!”

Jungkook grunted his response as Tae flew down the stairs and out of sight. He let out a long sigh as he collected his belongings. He already knew this would be a long night now that he was already thinking about you. Normally he’d stave off any thoughts that had to do with you as long as possible. Taehyung that dickhead.

Jungkook’s train ride to work was quick as usual. The cars were always stuffed with people at the hour that he’d always go in, but luckily, he didn’t have to put up with it for too long. He was already quite used to his work routine by now.

He’d start by letting himself in through the club’s side door. He’d greet the owner who was always inside doing paperwork before the rest got in. The guys from security were always there too, helping set up the floor.

When Jungkook first started working there, he always kept his head down and did his job to the best of his ability. Nothing much had changed throughout the years, except that now he knew people’s names and had even made a friend or two.

Once he’d make his way to the bar, Jungkook liked to start off by making sure all of the glasses and shakers were cleaned and properly stocked. Then he’d fill his ice and get the juices, sodas and fruits he needed to make his drinks. By then, the club would be opening and quickly filling. His barback would also show up to help him out. He was a good kid, reminded Jungkook of himself a lot when he was his age. Jungkook never bothered asking him how he found himself in this city working at this club, but he had a feeling it was for a similar reasons as Jungkook’s.

On the weekends though, his coworker Lisa would show up a few hours into his shift to help him serve the massive volume of people in need of inebriation. He didn’t mind her company so much these days, now that she’d finally gotten the point that he didn’t want to sleep with her.

On this day, however, he was most grateful to see her bouncing bob making its way to him behind the bar. It was only a Friday, but it must’ve been the start to some kind of holiday weekend with the way people were hoarding the bar like an army of zombies.

“Hey Kookie!” Lisa ruffled the boy’s curls as she passed him by from behind.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” Jungkook filled four gin and tonics while grumbling at his coworker.

“Oh, I’m sorry Kookie. What would you prefer?” The girl purred innocently, loving the way it was so easy to fluster this man twice her size.

“Just Jungkook.” He stated monotonously as he pushed out the four drinks then got a couple beers from the minifridge under the counter.

“Hmm…nah. Too long!” She giggled at her own mischievousness while Jungkook could only groan. Unfortunately, the barback happened to come up with the ice refill they needed in that moment and was now on the receiving end of Jungkook’s pent up frustration.

“I asked for this shit ages ago, where have you been?!”

The boy flinched at the tone in Jungkook’s voice. He only stared wide-eyed, unable to defend himself. He had lost track of time after checking his phone once he got to the ice machine.

Lisa took the bucket from the boy and gave him an apologetic smile. He scurried off to the back to get the fruit Jungkook had also asked him for ages ago.

“Be easier on him or else he’ll quit. We can’t operate without a barback.”

Lisa took care of the next few drinks while Jungkook wiped the wet counter. The customers were getting drunker by the hour and consequently, sloppier.

“We can’t operate with a shitty barback either. He’s gotta learn. This is how I learned.”

Lisa rolled her eyes, knowing Jungkook meant well. He just didn’t understand what a brute he could be sometimes. She wished it hadn’t turned her on as much as it did.

The next hour went by as usual. Lisa and Jungkook had already developed a smooth flow of working together, finishing drinks for each other, picking up the slack whenever one of them was flirting for a good tip, even picking up the slack whenever one of them got a little too tipsy after taking shots with insistent customers.

Tonight, however, was different. Jungkook was distracted. He couldn’t stop looking at you and therefore was constantly messing up.

Your coworkers decided to drag you to a hot nightclub in Hongdae tonight to celebrate one of them finally getting engaged. Nightclubs weren’t exactly your scene, but you didn’t want to spoil the infectious mood or offend them by declining to go. It had taken a long time for them to warm up to you as a foreigner, so you didn’t want to do anything that might put them off. It’s not that you were against the drinking and the dancing and the partying per se, you loved having a good time. But sometimes you’d get in your own head and worry about coming off as awkward. You also weren’t a good dancer.

Nonetheless, you found yourself at the crowded venue with the girls close to midnight, swaying to the music and sucking on a sweet vodka cranberry.

Jungkook had spotted you as soon as you came in. He’d felt a tingling sensation that wouldn’t leave him, until he served a customer that was facing the door. His eyes snapped to your figure receding into the crowd that surrounded the bar. With his eyes trained on you like a hawk, he quickly gathered you were there with a group of women whom had reserved a table last minute. It was hard for him to keep track of you unless he went out of his way to peer over the heads crowding the bar, so he tried not to care at all, which resulted in him distractedly making drinks wrong and ultimately knocking over a glass.

Lisa casted worried glances at her coworker who was normally such an expert. When the glass smashed against the floor, she considered it to be the last straw. Jungkook rolled up his sleeves, exposing the tattoos that decorated both of his arms before squatting down to pick up the mess he had made. She placed a hand firmly on his shoulder, causing him to flinch as he looked up at her.

“Go take 5. I’ll clean up. I don’t know what’s wrong with you today but go get yourself together.”

Jungkook pursed his lips and nodded before heading out of the club through the back. He left the door ajar so as not to lock himself out and as soon as the cool air hit his hot cheeks, he visibly relaxed. He hated being a liability at work. The fact that you were the reason that he was being so clumsy and sloppy was doubly annoying.

Jungkook fished for his lighter and his pack of cigarettes in his pants. He found the former but not the latter, realizing he forgot them at home on his nightstand, another result of his head being so occupied. He sighed in frustration, leaning against the brick wall and tugging at his roots with his fingers. What is she even doing here of all places? Did Tae put her up to this? This wasn’t what he meant when he agreed to spending time with you.

Suddenly a sharp cry pierced his muddled thoughts. His head snapped towards the end of the alley where a woman and a man were huddled together. He squinted his eyes and listened closely, realizing that the situation looked hostile.

The drunken man’s hand was gripping the woman’s arm roughly and tugging her towards him while she struggled to get out of his embrace.

“I SAID NO!” With one final tug, the girl ripped her arm out of the man’s grasp, only for him to lunge at her phone that was in her other hand.

Jungkook hadn’t realized when his feet started moving. All he knew was that the voice belonged to you and that you were in trouble.

His hand pushed the man roughly, causing the older guy to stumble backwards. He had successfully gotten your phone out of your hand, so Jungkook reached for it and snatched it back. The man looked at him furiously.

“Who the hell are you!? Mind your own business man!”

“Get the fuck out of here before I get security.” Jungkook’s voice was low and calm, more of a threat than screaming would ever prove. The man took one look at you and Jungkook before sucking his teeth and walking off.

Jungkook watched him for a while until he disappeared into another bar up the block then turned to you.

You were shaking, hiding behind Jungkook a bit.

He instantly took pity on you, handing you your phone back and subtly turning the corners of his mouth upward.

“You okay?”

You looked up at him and nodded weakly, taking your phone back sullenly.

“…Yeah. I just came out here to call Tae and this creep followed me! God, I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t here…what are you doing here, by the way?”

“I work here. Bartender.”

A look of recognition flashed across your eyes before you smiled down at your feet. “Ah, the bartender.”

Jungkook quirked a brow, curious about the sudden inflection in your voice. When you saw his eyes regarding you questioningly, you chuckled and blushed.

“No, it’s just that, my friend got us all drinks and she wouldn’t stop talking about the hot bartender.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up and he couldn’t help chuckling himself. He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, looking at anywhere else that wasn’t you.

“Ah…”

Suddenly the smell of smoke wafted in front of Jungkook. He noticed you had lit a cigarette while he wasn’t paying attention.

“You’re not going to rip this one out of my mouth, are you?” You challenged him with a playful look, causing the boy to chuckle again.

“Nah I’m not.” A moment passed as he deliberated on what to do. You clearly had a phone call to make, and his five minutes were just about up. He should go. He should definitely go. “Hey, can I bum one off of you? I left my pack at home.”

“Oh this is actually my last one, but we can share!” You extended the white stick out to him. He hesitated before plucking it from your fingers and taking a long drag.

You both took turns passing it back and forth in silence. Although this moment was innocent, Jungkook knew he was already beginning to overstep the boundaries he had long placed in between you two. His mind screamed for him to go back to work, but his feet just didn’t move.

“So, you told on me to Tae huh?” Jungkook exhaled a clowd of smoke then handed you the cigarette with a cocky smile.

You couldn’t help but smile back, yanking the already shortened stick from his hand.

“I hold no loyalties to you.” You stuck your tongue out at him playfully. You were glad there wasn’t any animosity between you two as you had initially thought. Tae held his friendship to Jungkook near and dear to him, so it wore on you to be on bad terms with someone whom he loved that much.

Jungkook shook his head, refusing to take the cigarette when you attempted to pass it to him. “So why are youhere?”

“Just here with my coworkers. Do I look that out of place?”

Jungkook shook his head quickly, not meaning to offend you.

“No! You look good here! I mean— You…” You giggled at his sputtering, not realizing someone like Jungkook could ever get nervous. He struck you as such a cool guy, maybe a bit of a fuck boy. Suddenly you saw someone peaking their head out of the backdoor and looking in your direction.

“You on break?” You gestured toward your observer.

Jungkook followed your gaze. Lisa must’ve sent the barback for him. He instantly felt a twinge of guilt, leaving her to fend for herself on such a busy night.

“No, actually. I should probably get back.” You nodded and dropped the dead cigarette to the pavement, stomping on it with your heel. As he started walking away, he couldn’t help himself from turning around to look at you one more time. You met his gaze questioningly, so he searched for something cool to say. “Try not to get into any more trouble, I won’t be here to protect you.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “No promises.”

“So, uh…guess I’ll see you around.” Jungkook began walking off again before stopping in his tracks at the sound of your voice.

“Well, actually, you’ll see me at home! I was going to go see Tae tonight since your place is close by. Should we…take the train together?”

Jungkook was caught off guard. He hadn’t expected to be spending any more alone time with you. “Well, I close actually…”

“That’s okay! I doubt my friends will let me leave any earlier anyway. Besides Tae hates it when I take public transport alone late at night. Case in point” You gestured to the bar up the block and beamed at him. His heart stuttered a bit.

“Uh…Okay, yeah… sure. Just come see me at the bar if your friends leave.” Jungkook turned swiftly and disappeared back into the club, rushing to join Lisa behind the counter. He couldn’t wipe the goofy smirk from his face, even when Lisa shot him a dirty look for being gone so long. He simply whistled as he got back into the groove of serving the hordes of people throwing their money at them. Lisa wanted to be annoyed with him, but she couldn’t, seeing how much of a good mood he was suddenly in.

Towards the end of the night when a lot of the crowd had thinned out, she turned towards the cheerful boy who was wiping down the counter while whistling.

“Did you get laid out back or something? What’s gotten into you?”

Jungkook shot her a crooked smile, “Nah, just, in a good mood for no reason.”

Lisa pursed her lips in disbelief. From the corner of her eye, she could see a woman making their way to the bar. When she looked over and prepared herself to take her order, she saw how her eyes were trained on Jungkook.

You perched yourself on the barstool directly in front of Jungkook. The last of your coworkers had caught a cab home, leaving you the last one standing. You were pretty tipsy, but nowhere near as drunk as the rest of them had been.

Jungkook’s eyes met yours and he smiled goofily again. “Hey. Friend’s leave?”

“Yep! I’m all yours.”

Jungkook’s neck began heating up at your choice of words, so he decided to busy himself by starting on some of the closing duties.

Lisa looked between you two in curiosity. It was a rare night when Jungkook wasn’t leaving with a girl on his arm by the end of the night, but it was the first time she’d ever seen someone affect him so obviously. She crossed her arms, smiling to herself. Flustered Jungkook was a rare sight to behold.

“Do you two know each other?”

You looked over at the female bartender who was leaning across the counter staring at you.

“Uh, yeah kinda. I’m dating his best friend.”

Lisa’s eyebrows shot up and a slow smile crept across her face. Her eyes landed on Jungkook who was expertly avoiding her accusatory gaze. “Is that so…”

“You good to close up on your own?” Jungkook turned to Lisa who wasn’t too happy about him leaving early, even if she had gotten in after he did. But nonetheless the place was nearly dead, she had no excuse to keep him longer.

“I guess…” The girl pouted as he turned to you and gestured toward the door. You hopped off the stool and turned to Lisa.

“It was nice to meet you…” You waited for her to tell you her name, but she simply turned away and busied herself with cleaning something that was already clean.

Jungkook rolled his eyes at his coworker’s childish behavior as he led you out of the club.

It had gotten much colder than it was before. Jungkook had known it would, since he’s used to leaving work at 4 in the morning. You on the other hand, had not brought a jacket and were shivering already before you two had cleared the first block on the way to the train station.

Jungkook watched you rub the goosebumps on your arms before he shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it around your shoulders. You were shocked, not expecting him to do such a gentlemanly thing. Jeon Jungkook really knew how to surprise you.

You smiled and stuck your arms through, appreciating how much it was already warming you.

“Her name’s Lisa, by the way.” Jungkook stared straight ahead. You nodded, realizing he noticed the way she ignored you as well.

“Lisa huh…I think she likes you.” You laced your fingers behind your back and looked up at Jungkook teasingly. The boy chuckled as you both descended the stairs into the subway.

“You think so?” He knew you were right; he just hadn’t expected you to catch onto it so quickly.

“Yep! You should ask her out, she’s pretty.”

Jungkook held the door open for you. He smiled and shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

You hummed, trying to figure out his deal. “Is she not your type?”

“It’s not really that…” Jungkook looked up at the ceiling, not wanting to talk about other women with you.

“Then…”

“I just don’t want to cross that line. She’s my coworker.”

You nodded, able to respect his reasoning. “If you ever do though, we can double date!”

“…I’ll pass.” You couldn’t help but chuckle. He was definitely rough around the edges.

Jungkook checked the schedule for the next train. It was late at night, so the wait was 30 minutes instead of the usual 5-7.

You both waited near the edge of the tracks in silence. You two didn’t know each other that well, or so you thought, so you struggled to find something to talk about. You had only just met him, and so far, the only things you knew about him were that he liked cigarettes, wearing black, that he worked as a bartender and that he played guitar and that he sang. Oh, and that he was quite the womanizer. That last known fact was curtesy of Tae and all of the stories he told you about his fuck boy crusade with his best friend.

Jungkook searched for something to say. In reality, there were a million things he could say to you, but most of them would probably have you accusing him of being some kind of stalker.

“You have a really nice voice by the way.” Your question had caught Jungkook off guard again. He looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed, wondering how the hell you knew he liked to sing. “I heard you that night. You were up late playing your guitar.”

“Ah…sorry if I kept you up…”

“No, it’s fine! It was nice…” After another short pause, you decided to ask something that had always made you curious, “So, how did you and Tae meet?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Sort of, he just said it was at a party, but I have a feeling there’re more to the story.”

Jungkook recalled that night almost 5 years ago. The truth was that they were both trying to fuck the same girl. They ended up getting competitive with each other, almost fought after a mix up, but the girl ended up leaving with a different guy and made them both feel like dumbasses, so they ended up going to a bar together to drown their sorrows. Although it was the start of a beautiful friendship, he could tell why Tae redacted some details.

“There’s not much to say really. We went to the same party and hit it off.”

You quirked your brow at him, feeling as if he was playing his part as his friend. Nonetheless you accepted the boring story. More silence followed until Jungkook finally thought of something to say.

“So, you and Tae met at school, right?”

“Yep. Graduation.”

“Oh, that’s right, you told me that.”

Man, this is so awkward. Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair while you began walking away. It was clear you had grown bored with the conversation, so you began treating the edge of the platform as a balance beam, holding your arms away from your body for balance.

Jungkook watched you for a bit, becoming worried when he saw the way you swayed a little too much. He caught your arm before you could truly lose your balance, giving you a stern look.

“Jeez, you sure have little regard for your own life.”

You looked up at him sheepishly, “Sorry, I swear I’m not that drunk, it’s just these heels are a bit too big.”

“Why are you even wearing those things? You hate heels.”

You slipped your arm out of his grasp, looking at him in confusion. How the hell does he know that? Did Tae…No, it seems too weird to bring up in conversation.

Shitshitshit. Jungkook had fucked up again. He knew this would happen. He felt entirely too comfortable around you despite being supposed strangers. What could he say to fix this?

Thankfully your tense eye contact was cut off by the train’s horn quickly approaching your platform. It had arrived much earlier than Jungkook expected, and for the first time in years, he thanked the universe for looking out.

You both climbed into the train. It was a lot less crowded than usual, so you both found seats near a window. Of course, you two were no longer talking with the weirdness that now clung to the atmosphere between you two. Jungkook sat with his legs spread eyes wide facing forward and his fingers drumming on his knee as he tried find the right words to say to you.

You sat next to him in deep thought, trying to recall if you had ever even told Tae about your aversion to heels. The whole thing was bizarre, but you weren’t sure you wanted to overthink such an innocent comment. Still, it was a weird assumption for him to make about a girl he didn’t know…

A few minutes into the ride, you had dozed off mid thought. The night had worn on you more than you had thought, causing you to slump against Jungkook’s shoulder. The boy stiffened when he felt your warmth invading his personal space. The goose bumps on his arm subsided as he melted into you involuntarily.

No matter how much he fought you mentally, it was as if his body had a mind of its own, unwilling to accept that you weren’t, in fact, the one for him.

He chewed on his bottom lip absentmindedly. He was tired too, wanting nothing more than to lean his head on you and close his eyes for a minute, just to see what it might feel like to be close to you the way he had wanted to be for so long.

He tried not to move too quickly so as not to wake you when he looked down at you. Your hair was spilling all over the left side of his body and it smelled wonderful. He couldn’t quite place the scent…something fruity?

If life was truly fair, he would’ve been able to drape his arm around you and warm you even further as you snuggled against his side. He would’ve taken you home, not because you were there for another man, but because you wanted to come home with him. He would’ve carried you upstairs and thrown you onto his bed before taking out the years of pent up emotions he had for you out on your body. He would’ve—

Jungkook shook his head in an attempt to clear it, but consequently

woke you up in the process.

You took a deep breath as you opened your eyes and stretched out. You had only fallen asleep for a few minutes, yet it felt like you were knocked out cold. And as soon as you realized you had been drooling on Jungkook, your entire face grew beet red. You sat up straight and looked away, feeling the heat radiating from your face. You couldn’t believe you had been so careless.

“C’mon, it’s our stop.”

Jungkook extended his hand out to you to help you up from the seat in your disoriented state. You hesitated before taking it, and when you did, he quickly pulled you into him and placed an arm around you, looking behind you two multiple times as you made it out of the subterranean area.

“Sorry, those guys back there were being total creeps.” Jungkook let you go and took a few steps away from you once you two made it out into the fresh air again.

You were disoriented to say the least, wondering why your heart had stuttered at being so close to another man. Close to Jungkook, no less. It bothered you to say the least.

For a few minutes, all that could be heard was the clicking of your heels against the pavement as you both walked towards his house. It was only a few blocks from the train stop, so you both didn’t have to deal with the awkward silence for much longer.

As the house came into view, you both spotted Hobi sitting on the steps of the front porch. As soon as Jungkook saw him he stiffened, knowing fully well how something like this might seem now that Hobi was in the loop.

“Hey! Hobi, right?” You walked halfway up the stairs as the redhead smiled weakly at you.

“Yeah. Hey Y/N.” His eyes shifted in between you two suspiciously.

“Is Tae home?”

“Should be.”

You nodded, not knowing what to do with such short responses. You turned toward Jungkook who was at the bottom of the stairs. “Well, thanks for everything tonight. Ah, here you go.” You shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to him. He took it and balled it up under his arm. “Well…goodnight I guess.” You looked in between the boys, feeling some weird tension and unable to help feeling like it was about you.

They both bid you a goodnight in unison and watched you go inside and close the door behind you. Hobi’s accusatory glare landed back on Jungkook, but the boy didn’t have any energy to argue, so he began jogging up the steps. As soon as he got to the top, Hobi caught his wrist.

“Can I talk to you?”

Jungkook licked his lips and sighed, taking a seat next to the older boy. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“When is it ever not what it looks like?” He lowered his voice, speaking more urgently, “Seriously Jungkook, if what you told me is true, you gotta stay away from her man. You’re playing with fire!”

“I’m really trying to hyung. I want to stay away from her but Tae insisted I be nice to her. I don’t know what the fuck to do.”

“Well, be nice from far away!” Hobi snapped at Jungkook in a hushed tone, knowing how easily things could be heard in the quiet of the early hours.

Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh unironically. He couldn’t believe his damn luck. Hobi stood up and stretched out, deciding to go back to bed.

“You coming?”

“Nah, I’m going to stay out here for a while.” Jungkook could only imagine what might be going on in the room right next to his. In any case, he didn’t want to hear a single thing.

Hobi left the boy in silence.

In the next few months that followed the night of clubbing with your friends, something strange started to occur. While Jungkook was gradually starting to have an easier time being around you, quite the opposite was the case for you.

You seemed to have started developing a sort of crush on Jeon Jungkook.

You knew it was harmless. People in committed relationships could have crushes that meant nothing. Still, you waited impatiently for your brain to get over it. But the pesky thing persevered, only seeming to find more reasons to like him every time you went over to hang out.

You found yourself overthinking the looks he threw your way, or the things he said to you in passing, even feeling nervous whenever you two were alone for a while. It was odd, because Jungkook wasn’t your type, yet here you were, finding yourself attracted to him.

You’d never admit this to anyone, since they would automatically think you were losing feelings for Tae, which just wasn’t true. You absolutely adored Tae and were thankful every day that you met him. You couldn’t imagine your life without him now and even looked forward to the day he decided to take your relationship a step further.

But now there were two men occupying your thoughts throughout the day, and it was disorienting, to say the least.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on this thing you had with Jungkook, however. You two seemed to get along so naturally. He was somehow able to finish your sentences without you two knowing each other for long. He was also unnaturally protective over you, but you didn’t mind at all.

And as Christmas approached, you found yourself wanting to text Jungkook to help you shop for Taehyung’s present. You figured if there was anyone in this world that might know Tae better than you did, it was Jungkook. Still, you weren’t sure it was a good idea, so you held off on it until a week before the holiday when you ultimately gave up and sent him a simple “You busy this weekend?” text.

Jungkook hadn’t read it until he awoke for work several hours later, groggily fisting his eyes as he double then triple checked the sender of this ominous text.

You never texted him. And he didn’t remember ever giving you his number.

A slow smile crept across his face. He fell back onto his bed holding his phone up above his face. He wished he hadn’t felt so giddy receiving a text from you, but no one was around to see his reaction, so he allowed himself to be happy briefly in the confines of his bedroom.

He wrote out several texts to you before ultimately deleting them, feeling like they sounded way too eager. He ended up going with a simple “I’m off on Sunday, whatsup?”

You received the message while you were helping yourself to some cup noodles in Tae’s room. You came over to see him, but he still wasn’t home yet, so you decided to wait for him in his room along with the dog that had quickly warmed up to you. You figured Jungkook was awake now since he texted you back, so you quickly made your way next door.

Three soft knocks on Jungkook’s door had him dropping his phone on his face. He winced and plucked the device off, rubbing his forehead as he made his way to the door. The last person he expected to be on the other side was you, clearly shown in the way he froze at the entrance.

Your eyes bulged when you realized Jungkook was wearing a pair of boxer briefs and nothing more. You tried to look away, but you had already seen him head to toe, causing you to blush immensely. He watched your flustered state for a moment before realizing he was almost naked in front of you.

“Shit, sorry.” He walked back into his room and threw on a pair of sweats that were flung on the floor. He wasn’t used to being modest in his own house, there were never girls here unless they had come to get laid by one of them.

“Oh, it’s okay.” You still couldn’t look him in the eye, so you spoke from the hallway. “I just got your text.”

“Oh, yeah whatsup?” Jungkook sat at the edge of his bed, wondering why you refused to come in.

“Well, it’s Christmas in a few days and I still haven’t gotten Tae a present. I was hoping you would come to the mall with me and help me pick something out for him.” Your voice was hopeful, which made it hard for Jungkook to turn you down.

It would be the first time you two hung out alone together since that night you came to the club. He had been doing a lot better these days being around you, making sure not to say anything weird and making sure you two weren’t alone for too long. Sometimes you’d pass each other in the hallway on the way to the bathroom, and he’d be thrown off seeing you in nothing but an oversized t-shirt. But he’d be able to pull himself together, simply because he had to. He was like a robot these days, following a careful script in his head and making sure he was never too close to you. It was causing a strain on him if he was being honest, but his friendship with Tae was worth all of it and more. So he’d endure, so long as you and Tae were happy together.

But hanging out with you alone was risky. He didn’t have a full proof plan on how to survive being alone with you for an extended period of time. His initial reaction was to say no, despite a part of himself desperately wanting to say yes. But as he looked at you from out in the hall, he knew he was doomed. He just couldn’t reject you; it wasn’t in him.

“And you save this for last minute?! The mall’s going to so crowded.”

You pouted and looked down at your feet, expecting to be scolded for being such a procrastinator. Jungkook smiled at your petulant expression. “Fine. But the mall closes early on Sundays so we should go in the afternoon.”

You beamed at him, not expecting him to give in so easily. Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat seeing how happy it made you for him to agree to go.

“Okay, meet me there at 1. I’ll let you get ready for work now.” You skipped down the hall and back into Tae’s room, leaving Jungkook to get ready in an unnaturally happy mood. He wasn’t used to having a pep in his step as he got ready to work a shift, but then again, he wasn’t used to having you in his life.

Sunday came painfully slowly, which made sense because Jungkook was looking forward to it so much. He had thought about it night and day, wondering what to wear, wondering what topics you two could talk about, wondering how much time he had with you.

To be fair, he had also thought about what to get Tae for his birthday as well. It was easy to shop for the rest of the guys, they were simple. But after so many years of friendship and good presents, he just didn’t know what else to get for his best friend at this point. Maybe he’d find a good present while he was out shopping with you.

That did not happen, however.

You two had met up outside of the mall in the afternoon, but as soon as soon as you stepped inside, you quickly saw the pandemonium that awaited. Hordes of people pushed each other every which way as they sped walked to countless stores doing their last minute shopping. A thrill of fear shot through Jungkook. He very vividly remembered the day you discovered you were claustrophobic, and the anxiety you had developed because of it. He didn’t like the idea of you being here whatsoever, but before he could pitch alternative plans, you were pulling him along into the crowd, determined to find a good store.

Jungkook insisted you both stop into a video games store that he quickly spotted, not because he thought Taehyung would want something from in there, but because it would give you time to rest. He could already see the wild look in your eyes and the slight hyperventilation building up inside of you. You were trying to be brave, and he didn’t know how to tell you that you didn’t have to be.

Jungkook slipped out momentarily to get you something from the food court that might help. When he returned, you shook your head and lead him back into the chaos, but you two only made it to the end of the wing before your hands started clamming up. Jungkook noticed the signs right away and tugged you down a hallway with an exit. You burst through the doors, hunching over and taking deep breaths. You wiped your hands on your pants, struggling to breathe. Jungkook pulled out the brown paper bag he had gotten and held it out to you. He crouched down to meet your eyes, watching you as you breathed in and out carefully.

“Count for me.” You nodded and counted backwards from ten, closing your eyes as your heart rate slowly decreased. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”

Once you were calmer, you straightened up and handed Jungkook the bag. “Thanks. I’m sorry—” He held his hand up, not letting you apologize for things out of your control.

You were ashamed. You hadn’t experienced a panic attack in years, so you thought you could handle it, but clearly you were wrong. You were so grateful Jungkook knew exactly what to do, and that he was so patient. It instantly made you more comfortable, which was odd because the idea of telling anyone about our anxiety, even Tae, was ironically enough to make it flare up.

“Should we try a different place? I know some stores not too far from here that might have some cool stuff.”

You nodded, still unable to meet his eyes. And so you two set off to complete your mission for the day.

Jungkook took you to several places, watching you try and haggle down firm prices of expensive products. He hadn’t stopped chuckling since you two got together, finding everything you did absolutely charming. It was only when you two had stopped in a music store so that Jungkook could buy some new guitar picks that you finally realized what to get Tae. You’d watched him play the piano at school enough to know he should have one at home, or at least a keyboard, since you didn’t exactly have piano money at the moment.

And so Jungkook carried the instrument for you as you made your way home, still thinking about what to get for his best friend.

The idea came to him unexpectedly when he watched you try to hail a cab. You were flailing your arms wildly, even suck your leg out on the street like you’d seen in the movies. He felt so light being with you, so whole that it was scary to think himself without you.

And then the words he’d never wanted to admit came to his mind. Damn, I love this girl.

There, he said it. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. As much as he tried to pretend it wasn’t the case, he knew it to be true. Deep down inside, it was the ultimate truth he had tried so desperately to bury beneath layers of misguided hatred. He loved you, he always had, and he always would, and there was no getting rid of it.

It was then, as he felt freer than he had in years, that he realized what he had to do.

“Okay, Okay! Open the next present!” You bounced cheerfully on the rug, unable to hold back your excitement. You absolutely loved Christmas, especially Christmas with Tae. It was his favorite holiday, and subsequently it became your favorite too. His infectious holiday spirit always got to you and everyone else around him. And as you sat in his living room surrounded by all of his friends and a pile of presents, you couldn’t be happier.

Tae chuckled as he ruffled the top of your head. “Okay fine! Bring on more presents!”

You giggled and tugged on the huge box that had been expertly wrapped by yours truly. The boy’s eyes threatened to pop out of his skull. “Holy shit! This big one is for me!?” You nodded enthusiastically.

He impatiently ripped the wrapping paper away and gasped when he saw a corner of the piano exposed. “Babe, you didn’t.”

“I did!” You squealed as he tore the box open, stopping to give you a huge kiss when he saw that you did, in fact, get him a keyboard.

Jungkook looked away but smiled, knowing Taehyung would be happy to receive it as soon as you had picked it out at the music store.

Someone made a sound of disgust at the massive show of PDA, but the lovebirds simply chuckled, too wrapped up in each other to care. When Taehyung finally tore himself away from you, he placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Okay. I’m about to open my last present, and babe, I don’t want you to be offended, but Jungkook always outdoes himself and everyone else every year.”

Jungkook grinned sheepishly, feeling a bit embarrassed at the introduction. His present this year wasn’t exactly over the top. He actually wasn’t sure how Tae would react to it. But nonetheless the boy handed him the simple envelope.

Tae looked at it and then at his friend, wondering what kind of present came in such simple packaging. He didn’t waste time opening it, but when he pulled out the simple piece of paper, he grew even more confused. He looked over at Jungkook for an explanation.

Jungkook cleared his throat, feeling a bit nervous. “It’s a plane ticket to Jeju. I’m moving there once our lease is up and I want you to come visit me when I do.”

Taehyung laughed, looking in between the plane ticket in his hands and Jungkook’s worried expression. “Come on man, stop playing.”

“I’m…not joking Tae.”

Utter silence followed his statement. Hobi was the first to look away, already knowing why Jungkook had decided to do something so rash. The rest of the boys looked in between each other, wondering if Jungkook had told any of them that he was leaving. Then they all looked at Tae, registering the hurt on his face. He couldn’t believe his best friend would make such a drastic decision like that without confiding in him. He had been picking up on Jungkook drifting from him lately, but he thought it might just be in his head. This confirmed that it wasn’t.

You had been shocked too, looking at Jungkook and the hardness in his jaw. He had been decided for some time now. You looked at your boyfriend, worried about how he was going to take this news.

“You’re…leaving?” Teahyung struggled to make sense of it. Jungkook never even talked about Jeju, or wanting to leave Seoul for that matter. It had always been you two against the world, but apparently that wasn’t the case after all.

“Uh…yeah. It’s sort of a last-minute thing…” Jungkook didn’t elaborate any more, not knowing what else to say. He couldn’t exactly say he was leaving because Tae was dating his soulmate.

“Well, thanks, I guess.” Tae got up and marched upstairs without another word. You all looked after him in worry. He definitely had not taken the news well. Jungkook felt dumb for even thinking that he might. He just felt that since Tae had met you, he was plenty happy and occupied these days, and wouldn’t have minded as much that Jungkook was leaving. Boy, was he wrong.

You couldn’t help looking at Jungkook who was now avoiding your gaze. You wanted to ask him where the hell this was all coming from, but your first priority was your boyfriend, so you got up and silently went upstairs to check up on him.

Someone made a whistling sound that caused some chuckling to erupt. These guys couldn’t take anything seriously to save their lives.

The rest of the gift giving session went on smoothly, with everyone choosing to ignore Jungkook’s sudden news.

In fact, the next two weeks had gone on much of the same. No one brought it up or even asked Jungkook about it, especially not Taehyung, which was due to the fact that he was completely ignoring Jungkook.

The curly haired boy had knocked on his door plenty of times since Christmas morning to have the inevitable talk, but Taehyung would either pretend he wasn’t in his room despite the door being locked or simply turn up the music really loudly and pretend he couldn’t hear. Whenever he’d run into Jungkook around the house, he’d simply turn around and walk out of the room.

Jungkook knew he deserved as much, but it was still weighing heavily on him. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Tae, which was the whole reason he was leaving in the first place.

New Years Eve had come around faster than anyone had been prepared for. You all liked to throw huge parties around this time, but it just didn’t feel right to have one this year with all of the tension in the house. Nonetheless, the boys dressed up and invited you to come watch the ball drop on TV.

Jungkook decided to work a shift that night in order to give Tae a chance to enjoy the evening with the rest of their friends. He hated working the holidays, especially since he already killed himself working so many hours regularly. But he sucked it up and went to work anyway, serving all of the lonely people without places to be on a holiday.

A few hours into his shift, he was surprised to see Lisa stopping by. She always had somewhere to be for the holidays, always some crazy rager worthy of legendary stories.

“What are you doing here?” The boy eyed her curiously. She certainly wasn’t dressed for work.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? When I heard you were working today, I had to come by and see for myself. Shouldn’t you be at your house throwing some crazy party I never get invited to?” The girl crossed her arms childishly.

Jungkook gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that. I figured you always had somewhere to be anyway.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Lisa smiled as Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Come to my place when you’re done. No one should be alone tonight.” Lisa purred, her eyelids heavy as she attempted to persuade her crush to come to her party.

Jungkook thought carefully. Normally he’d decline right away, not even bothering to think of good excuses these days. But what reason did he have to keep turning her down? She was beautiful, and she wanted his company. He was single and he really didn’t have other plans. Plus, they wouldn’t be coworkers for much longer. Sure, he was in love with another woman, but that didn’t even matter when the woman he loved was unattainable.

The boy shifted on his feet, looking over his shoulder at Lisa’s expectant stare. “You’ve worn me down. Just text me your address.”

Lisa bit her lip, feeling giddy inside but trying hard to seem apathetic. “Okay, yeah. I’ll see you later.” She turned swiftly on her feet and exited the club, rushing home to prepare for a night she hadn’t known would actually come.

Jungkook chuckled. He knew Lisa well and could tell she was overly excited about this. He felt a twinge of guilt, knowing she was way more into him than he was her, but it’s not like he was asking her to be his girlfriend or anything. It was just one night. One much needed night away from Tae’s pointed stares, his friends’ loaded silence and your intoxicating presence lingering everywhere he went.

He focused on getting through the rest of his shift, and by the time he had gotten home, you were all awake playing drinking games in the kitchen. The curly haired brunette had popped his head in to greet you all and the boys cheered to see their favorite bartender was finally home, well, all except for one.

He watched as Tae finished his drink and bid everyone a good night before going upstairs for the night. You followed right behind him, but not before stopping to wish Jungkook a happy new year.

“You as well.” Jungkook smiled at you, unable to hide the sadness in his voice. You look beautiful tonight. I love you.

He watched as you, too, went upstairs and disappeared into Tae’s room. His roommates continued playing beer pong as if nothing had happened. Jungkook watched for a bit, wishing things were different. He had been secretly hoping things might magically be smoothed over by tonight, and that you all would insist on hanging out together. But it seemed he would be going over to Lisa’s anyway.

He bounded up the steps quickly, not wanting to keep his conquest for the night waiting too long. He changed into something a little more festive before he heard those three soft knocks at his door that made his heart stop.

Jungkook checked his appearance again in the mirror before taking a deep breath and opening the door for you.

You smiled tentatively up at him. He was decent this time, you were happy to find.

“Can I come in?”

The question had caught him off guard, but even so, he moved aside and let you in, closing the door behind you.

“What’s up?” Jungkook tried to sound nonchalant, but his tone of voice still went up towards the end of his question.

“Well, I kinda wanted to talk to you.” You looked around his room, taking the setting in for the first time. His room turned out to be exactly as you expected, dark paint on the walls, his guitar on display, clothes strewn all around and band posters on the walls. You smiled at him as you sat on his bed, patting the seat next to you.

Jungkook instantly grew nervous. Normally when a girl sat on his bed and beckoned him over, it was under wildly different circumstances. He gulped, his heart racing as he took hesitant steps towards the bed. He sat down next to you, wiping his hands on his thighs as you turned to him.

“Talk about what?”

“You…and Tae.” Jungkook sighed, not knowing what else to say on the matter. “He’s really broken up about this, even if he’s not showing it. I know we haven’t been friends for long… but you can talk to me. What can I say to get you to stay?” Jungkook shook his head. You were simply trying to be a good girlfriend by getting him to stay, but Jungkook was trying to be a good friend by leaving. “I mean…Tae said you never do anything drastic without talking to him first. And he told me he felt like you two had been drifting apart for a while. Did something happen?”

Jungkook balled his fists at his knees. “Yes, and no. There’s nothing to say Y/N. I’m just leaving, and it’s final. I’ve been trying to find a way to apologize to him for springing this on him at Christmas, but he won’t let me. I don’t know what else to do.”

“…You can stay.” You smiled at him, but it only served to frustrate the boy more. You just didn’t understand, and you weren’t sure why he wasn’t allowing you to understand. “Jungkook, surely there has to be some reason that—“

Suddenly his lips were on yours, urgent and unrelenting. He effectively cut your sentence off when he leaned in and kissed you unexpectedly. He hadn’t planned it, it just happened in the moment. He also couldn’t think of a better way to convey how much of a problem it would be if he chose to stay, and rightfully so, he managed to alarm you as you shoved him off of you.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU—” His lips were on yours again, but this time, you didn’t have the restraint to fight him. You kissed him back hungrily. A million emotions coursed in between you both, lust, fear, happiness and pain amongst the more prominent ones.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him onto you greedy for more. His lips were like a wildfire igniting your body, molding perfectly into yours as you gasped for air. His hands on your body were hot, too hot against the goosebumps growing on your skin.

Your fingers found their way into his hair and tugged on the strands roughly as he bit your lip. He growled into the kiss, savoring how sweet you tasted. He was going out of his mind with his senses on overload. He felt nothing but you and smelled nothing but your perfume as he leaned into you, pulling your body against his. He also saw nothing but you and him together, living happily as destiny might have it. His tongue slipped into your mouth which you readily accepted, swirling yours around his as you traded saliva.

Jungkook had imagined this moment a million times, but never under these circumstances. He was finally getting what he wanted, but not in the right way, and because of that, he broke away from you, panting as you stared into each other’s eyes for an uninterrupted minute. His gaze on you loving while yours reflected nothing but wonderment.

You weren’t sure what the hell you were doing, you hadn’t yet asked yourself that, because you couldn’t answer your initial question when he first kissed you. Why did this feel so…right?

“That’s why I have to go.”

Jungkook sighed as you stared back at him dumbfoundedly. You reached your hand up to your lips that were still tingling, unable to believe what had just happened.

Jungkook expected you to leave, he expected you to be upset, but when you hadn’t budged, he felt himself slowly losing even more control than he already had tonight. He had to get you to go, before he did something else he’d be ashamed of.

“So, if that’s all, I have somewhere to be.” He looked away, hoping you got the hint.

You were caught off guard. Jungkook was so hot and cold that it left your head spinning sometimes. Nonetheless you tried to push through and get the answers you had come looking for.

“Jungkook… you don’t have to go. At least not tonight. Stay, we can—”

“No, I do have to go. Lisa’s waiting for me, so…”

You furrowed your eyebrows, looking at the boy who had now stood up and picked up his watch from his nightstand. Was he seriously thinking of other women while implying that he had to move because he had feelings for you?

You stood up, looking at the boy’s back incredulously. “So, you expect me to believe you have feelings for me while you’re running off to go sleep with someone else?”

“Weren’t you just warming Tae’s bed before you came to my room?”

Your eyes watered at the implication of his words. How dare he insinuate…

You turned on your heel and marched out of his room, unwilling to let him see you cry. Jungkook felt awful about what he just said and did, but he had no choice. Maybe now you would stay away from him and make his last few moments here as peaceful as possible.

Jungkook finished getting ready and left shortly afterward. He spent the night in Lisa’s bed as he intended to, and almost every other night afterward for the next two weeks.

You hated him. You hated him so much you could cry again just thinking about him.

You hated his floofy hair and his dingly earrings and his carefree smile. You hated the way he scrunched his nose whenever he didn’t like something, you hated the tight shirts he always wore. You hated the way his lips were so soft but his body was so hard, you hated how he kissed you and made you feel things that were confusing.

You prided yourself on having a simple life. You went to school and graduated on time, you had a long-term relationship that was precious to you, you even found a job that you liked and friends that you loved. And then there was Jungkook, an unsightly blotch in the mural of your life. You absolutely hated him.

Which was the reason why (you convinced yourself) you were standing outside of his bar on a Tuesday evening. The kiss had now happened months ago, but you were only now able to summon the courage to confront him with all of the things you wanted to say to him.

You had been avoiding him at all costs, holing yourself up in Tae’s room or just not coming over at all. But even when you were over, his room was always empty. You surmised he was back to his fuck boy behavior. It was all the same to you, at least he wasn’t in your hair anymore.

But now, you wanted to see him. You needed him to know that his kiss meant nothing to you and that he was an asshole for insinuating you were being a slut.

You also knew that this was his last day at work because he was leaving tomorrow, so it was now or never.

You sighed as you pushed open the doors of the club. Immediately upon entering, the smell of cigarettes overwhelmed you. There were very few people here, yet the lights still strobed, and the music still blared, albeit at a more respectable volume.

Your eyes found the bar immediately along with the tall brunette chucking playing cards into a glass cup. You clutched your purse straps and marched over to him, a look of determination in your eyes.

Jungkook’s eyes flew over to you as he got prepared to take your order, but quickly realized you weren’t a customer after all. He gulped, seeing the ferociousness in your demeanor.

“Hello JUNGKOOK.”

“Uh, hi.”

“I won’t be staying long. I just came here to say that…that our,” You looked around and lowered your voice, causing Jungkook’s lips to curl, “kiss, meant nothing. It was meaningless and it should’ve never happened. And, And you’re such an asshole because—”

“I know. I’m sorry.” You were caught off guard, losing track of your speech already. “I should’ve never kissed you and I should’ve never said what I said. It was unwarranted. And of course, the kiss meant nothing.”

You huffed, not sure about how to continue. You were expecting a fight. “Well, I just want you to know that I love Taehyung with all my heart—”

“I never doubted that for a second.”

You rolled your tongue around on the inside of your cheek. “Are you going to let me be mad here for a second!?” This time Jungkook smiled involuntarily. You were even adorable when you were pissed.

You sighed heavily, throwing your hands up in the air. “Well, I guess that’s all I came here to say, so…”

“Sit down. What are you having?”

You looked at Jungkook for a second and then the stool in front of him, wondering if you should stay. “I said I wasn’t going to stay long…”

“Do you have plans?”

“No…”

“Then sit. Drink with me.” Jungkook flashed you an infectious crooked smile and you couldn’t believe yourself as you put your purse down on the counter and plopped down in front of him. There was no use in being angry at him anymore now that you were both on the same page.

Jungkook poured two shots of tequila and plucked two limes from the jar of fruit. He placed one of each in front of you and lifted his own glass in front. You clinked your shot with his and threw the alcohol into the back of your throat, feeling the warm sting as it made its way down. With panicked dexterity, you quickly chomped down on the lime to get rid of the horrid aftertaste.

Jungkook scrunched his nose and shook his head. He wasn’t sure Tequila would be his thing, but it was his last day here, may as well drink the expensive stuff.

Suddenly one shot turned into two, which turned into four, which is when you found yourself trying your hand at shooting his cards.

You were absolutely drunk since you had skipped lunch at work. Jungkook had a higher tolerance, but he still had a mean buzz. He was having the time of his life watching you react every time your car didn’t fall into the cup. You were so dramatic, and he loved it.

“You have to flick your wrist. Flick your wrist!” Jungkook was demonstrating as you continued to miss.

“It’s not working! You’re an awful teacher!”

“Are you sure you’re not an awful student?”

“Both could be true at the same time.”

“I suppose, but that statement overlooks a key detail in this scenario.”

“Which is…?

“That I’m AWESOME!” Jungkook tossed a card at the cup that epically bounced off the rim and onto the floor. “NOOOOO! That was supposed to be my moment!!”

“You’re such a failure. So embarrassing. It’s a good thing you’re leaving town, can’t show your face around here after that disgrace.”

Jungkook laughed and flashed you the finger as he bent down to pick up all the cards from the floor. You hiccupped as you spun around in your chair, easily entertaining yourself when the world started to go fuzzy. You stopped to watch him shuffle the deck, feeling content as your body buzzed with a warm tingly feeling.

“So let me ask you something…”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

Jungkook smiled down at his hands. “Because you’re my soulmate.”

You failed to stifle a laugh and so did Jungkook. He realized how ridiculous he must sound to you right now, but he figured why not throw caution to the wind. You probably wouldn’t remember anything he said to you by tomorrow.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because I’ve been dreaming about you since I was nine.”

Your laughter was loud, too loud, drawing the attention of other people as they shot you rude looks. You snorted, unable to help yourself from laughing even more. Jungkook bit his lip, trying to stop himself from laughing too so that he could get his words out properly.

“Dreams? About me?”  Jungkook nodded, leaning against the counter to meet you eye to eye. “Prove it then.”

“How can I prove it to you?”

“Well,” You tapped your finger against your chin, humoring the boy with the brunette, “if you’ve known about me for the last 15 years, thennnn, how many siblings do I have?”

“Three sisters.”

Damn, that was a good guess. You quirked a brow. “Impressive….thennnn, what was my favorite subject at school?”

“History.”

“Hmm, not so impressive because you might’ve known what my major in college was.”

“Oh, but you didn’t let me finish. History was your favorite because you’re a total dork, but we both know English class was your true favorite because you had a big fat crush on your teacher Mr. Townsend with the dreamy eyes. What was it you liked to call him? Mr. Cutie?”

You laughed again, keeling over the counter and banging your hand on the counter repeatedly. “OH MY GOD I forgot about him!!! He was soooo cute I could die!! Holy shit Jungkook. Did you go to school with me?” You gasped, realizing you’d be a pretty awful person not to recognize Jungkook if he was an old classmate.

The boy simply smiled and shook his head, chuckling at your dazed expression. You were definitely thinking all about Mr. Cutie now. Suddenly his eyes met the approaching figure getting closer and closer. Shit.

“Okay, come on darling. You’ve had a bit too much to drink. Time to go.” The security guard put his hand on your upper back and ushered you off the stool. You stared between him and Jungkook, stumbling a bit when you landed on your feet.

“WHAT!? I’m totally fine. Jungkook tell him!”

Jungkook looked in between you both, biting his lip. You were most definitely not fine. “Just go, but wait for me outside!” You stared at the boy who had run into the back, letting the security guard gently lead you out of the club. That traitor!

Once outside, you began walking up the block hiccupping as you unlocked your phone. For some reason, you remembered that you needed to buy toothpaste. You knew you wouldn’t remember in your inebriated state, so you called yourself and left a voicemail.

“Hey Y/N, it’s you, Y/N. Get toothpaste—”

“Who the hell are you talking to?” Jungkook’s voice came up close behind you, and you panicked and put your phone down, forgetting to end the voicemail.

“No one! Hey, why aren’t you at work?”

“And miss this shit show? I wouldn’t forgive myself.” Jungkook smiled as he looked up at the starry sky. He was filled with an inexplicable peace and he didn’t know why. Was it because he was hanging out with you after months of being apart? Was it because he was buzzed, or because he was finally leaving tomorrow? Or was it because he was finally confessing to you?

You attempted to shove the boy but only managed to stumble again. Jungkook’s arms held you steady instantly, making sure you weren’t going to take a tumble out here for everyone to see. You were much too drunk to take public transport, so he decided to hail a cab instead.

Once the car pulled up to the curb, he held the door open for you as you got in and then followed your lead, giving the cab driver his address.

You turned to face him while smiling lazily. He mirrored your blissful expression, wondering what was going on in your head.

“Tell me more Mr. Wizard.”

Jungkook chuckled. “What do you want to know.”

“I want to know more reasons why you think a girl like me would be your soulmate.”

“I don’t think, I know.” Jungkook paused, wanting to give you a thoughtful answer, even if you were absolutely drunk. “Sometimes I think I know you better than I know myself. I look at you and the life you’ve lived, the things you’ve done for others and the things people should’ve done for you. You make me want to be a better person. The kind of person that would make sure you’d never hurt again.”

Jungkook smiled at you, but you could only look at him pensively. “And…you know all of this because of…your dreams?”

He nodded, his hair and earrings bouncing to and fro. “I think it was the universe’s way of answering a question I had when I was young.”

“Which was?”

“How to know when you’re in love.” Jungkook leaned back against the headrest, looking at you with sadness in his eyes. You leaned in closer to him without realizing, staring into his huge eyes full of so many secrets.

“For someone who’s never even taken a girl out on a date before, you seem awfully sure about this.” The boy smiled, licking his lips as he closed his eyes.

“Gimme a break! It’s not like I didn’t try. That day you came to Seoul with your class, I had been looking forward to it all week. I was so frustrated because I didn’t know where you would be, but I showed up anyway and looked for you, even bought you flowers.” He shook his head at the memory, feeling dumb for teenage Jungkook: the helpless romantic. “Guess I just didn’t want to deal with that disappointment again.”

You looked at Jungkook as the streetlights illuminated his face in iridescence. He looked so sad, and you couldn’t make sense of the words he was saying, but you felt he was speaking to you from the heart. You licked your own lips, only inches away from his face.

His eyes watched you carefully the closer you got. His mouth parted as your nose brushed against his and suddenly, he was whispering against your lips, “Y/N, you should stop. If you continue, I don’t think I’ll have the strength to stop myself this time.”

You swallowed involuntarily, the edges of your lips brushing against his pillowy ones. He was absolutely right, and you were grateful that one of you had the sense to say what needed to be said.

You looked up into his blown-out pupils and imagined what might happened if you simply pressed your lips into his. You saw him taking hold of your face and pressing you against the backseat, curling your leg around his waist as he stuck his tongue into your waiting mouth. You saw yourself loving every bit of the way his hands would grope you, his mouth whispering dirty things against your skin. You’d love it a little too much, but maybe not in the morning when you’d realize what you’d done. So you inched away from him and took a deep clearing breath. Jungkook did the same, looking out of his window for the remainder of the ride home while reminding himself that he was leaving tomorrow, over and over again.

Jungkook hadn’t seen his room this empty in years.

When he first moved into the house, he didn’t have much money to his name, content with sleeping on a tiny air mattress set up in the corner with a lamp and a laptop, both of which were also on the floor. He struggled to remember that overused quote while reminiscing. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

He had already shipped out his belongings prior, even sent you a special package that he should’ve gotten rid of ages ago. His empty room served as a good parallel for how he felt. He was starting anew and felt a little empty inside as he cut off important ties, but the prospect of starting over was all he could put his faith in now.

And now all that was left to take was his packed-up guitar and a duffle bag that sat neatly out of the way as he took a picture to look back on later.

He was wracked with melancholy at his final moments in this house and in his favorite city. He did want to leave and start anew somewhere else, if only for his own peace of mind, but not being able to make things right with his best friend before leaving tainted everything. He never wanted to leave like this.

A few knocks at doorway had Jungkook quickly turning around. Hobi stood at the entrance holding the excited pitbull in his arms. He placed the scrappy dog on its feet and off it went, bounding excitedly into Jungkook’s awaiting arms. His heart hurt as he scratched the backs of its ears. This would be one of the things he missed doing the most.

“So, you’re leaving soon, yeah?”

Jungkook nodded, standing up as Hobi approached him. The redhead took him in for an embrace, patting his back momentarily.

“For the record, I think you’re doing the right thing man.” Jungkook nodded again, trying to make himself believe the words too.

“Hey.” A soft greeting from the doorway startled both Hobi and Jungkook. He knew Tae was home, but he hadn’t expected him to stop by, not with the way he persisted on being mad at him for so long.

“Hey.” Jungkook’s voice was horse. Hobi gave the younger boy a reassuring smile before leaving and giving them some privacy. Tae regarded him warily as he leaned against the door frame, trying to decide if he should enter, and ultimately deciding to do so.

“So, today’s the day huh?”

“Flight leaves in an hour.”

Tae nodded, looking around at the vast empty space. It hurt him to see it so empty for the first time in a long time.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” Tae sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets, struggling to meet Jungkook’s eyes.

“I know. It’s just something I have to do.”

Tae nodded, even though he didn’t agree, or understand for that matter. He sniffed, frowning as he made a last-minute decision to blow up on Jungkook after all.

“Fuck you, that’s such bullshit! You never wanted to leave Seoul. And all of a sudden, it’s a done deal. You didn’t even talk to me about it! And you talk to me about everything! What the fuck happened to us? What, I get a girlfriend and all of a sudden I’m not a good enough friend to you?! What the fuck is even waiting for you at Jeju?? Do you even know anyone there?! I’m your best friend and I don’t even know your new address!”

Jungkook winced as Tae’s voice only got higher the longer he went on, but he stood and took the scolding, knowing he deserved every bit of it.

“I’m sorr—”

“And then you have the nerve to tell me on Christmas, as if I’m supposed to be happy that you’re leaving, as if that was supposed to be a gift to me. That was fucked up!”

“I know, I’m sorr—”

“And you didn’t even take the trash out last Thursday even though it was your chore day. GOD YOU’RE UNBELIEVABLE!”

Taehyung huffed, running out of things to complain about. Jungkook’s mouth twitched, wanting so badly not to fuck himself over by laughing at Tae right now. Though, he couldn’t help but notice how similar you and Tae were when you were angry. The ridiculous image of you two fighting was distracting to say the least.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know you’re sorry, still doesn’t make this any less shittier.”

“I know.”

“GOD, STOP SAYING YOU KNOW!” Tae slumped down the wall until his butt hit the floor. Jungkook hesitated before going over to sit by him. They both sat in silence for a while, feeling a flurry of emotions. After a while, Jungkook smiled and pointed at a chip in the door frame.

“Remember when Yoongi got so drunk that we had to put him into the shower, but he held onto my door frame so hard while we were dragging him out that he broke it a little?”

Taehyung looked over at the indent and smiled, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter. He nodded, remembering the hectic night. The boys had all been scared of Yoongi after that, knowing he could easily knock them out with that strength of his if they ever pissed him off enough. Tae’s eyes wandered along the room, catching the distinct black mark where the bed used to be.

“Remember when you were really into hookah for a while and that sorority girl you brought over that one time dropped the coal on the floor and didn’t tell you?”

Jungkook laughed, nodding as he remembered how furious he was when he saw the damaged that she had tried to cover up poorly.

“Oh god, remember her weird sister? What was her name again?”

“Floosy Susan?”

“FLOOSY SUSAN! How could I forget! What do you think she’s up to nowadays?”

“Still fisting forties and picking up bikers probably.” Taehyung shivered, remembering the very aggressive way she cornered him in the bathroom once.

Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows at him, recalling the story she had told everyone about what happened that night which turned out not to be true at all. Taehyung chuckled and pushed Jungkook over.

“Man, we used to have so much fun. What happened?”

“I don’t know. Life, I guess. You got castrated and I picked up more hours at work.”

“Fuck you.” Tae chuckled some more, running his fingers through his hair. It was silent for a while as he chose his next few words carefully. “Are you leaving because of me? If it’s something I did—”

“No. It’s not you.” Jungkook sighed, looking at his friend with torture in his eyes. “Tae I— I’m…in love with Y/N.” Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up as he searched Jungkook’s face for any ounce of joking. “I have been for a long time, even before you met her. I thought I could deal with it, but it’s been too hard. So I figured it’d be better if I just removed myself from the equation and started new somewhere else, at least for a while.”

More silence ensued as Taehyung processed what Jungkook was telling him. He was angry at first, his baser instinct telling him to accuse Jungkook of being a shitty friend, which he knew was unreasonable. Then he was sad, realizing how much this made sense when he thought about the last couple months.

“Fuck man…I don’t know what to say. Since before I met her?”

Jungkook nodded, leaning his head on the wall as he silently cursed his own bad luck that Tae had gotten to you first.

“It doesn’t matter how, or when, really. Because I see how good you two are together. I don’t want to ruin that. But it’s too hard for me to stay and…watch her build a life with someone that’s not me.” Jungkook sighed and turned to his friend. “I’m sorry, this must feel really shitty to hear.”

Taehyung shook his head. He was at a loss for words. Out of all the reasons he had conjured up to explain their decline in friendship, this had never crossed his mind.

“Shit, I’m sorry I made you play wingman, practically forced you to spend time together when you didn’t want to.” Tae threw his head back into the wall and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling like an idiot.

“Eh, you didn’t exactly force me. You know I’ll always be your wingman no matter what.” Jungkook held up his fist for Taehyung to bump. His friend smiled weakly before touching his knuckles to Jungkook’s.

Suddenly the blonde sighed, looking at Jungkook with a serious expression. “Do you…want me to step aside?”

Jungkook froze, unable to believe the words that had just come out of Taehyung’s mouth. “Of course, I don’t want you to do that. What the fuck kind of question is that!? You guys are madly in love.”

“Oh thank god. I really did not want to.”

The boys busted out laughing, holding their sides and rolling over on the floor in tears.

“You’re such a piece of shit.” Jungkook could barely get his insult out in between laughs.

Suddenly Jungkook’s phone buzzed, signaling his Uber approaching the house.

“Ah, my ride’s here.” Jungkook stood up and looped his guitar strap over his shoulder. He realized Tae hadn’t heard him, since the boy had stepped out to take a phone call, so he quietly made his way down the stairs after giving his dog a goodbye scratch. He hated elaborate goodbyes anyway. And besides, he knew Tae would definitely use the plane ticket the first chance he got free time off of school and work.

“Hey babe!” Your sing-song voice rang through Taehyung’s receiver, putting a big smile on the boy’s face.

“Hey you. Are you coming over?”

“Yep! I’m about to leave my house right now. Did we need anything else? I already got the noodles and the hoisin.”

“Nah, we should be fine. Just hurry up and get here already, I miss you.”

You smiled cheesily, looking down at your feet as you walked up to your mailbox. You nodded, and realized he couldn’t see you, so you chirped an okay before hanging up.

You had slept all day recovering from your hang over. You couldn’t believe you had gone to Jungkook’s club to argue with him but ended up getting waste instead. You were happy that you were no longer on bad terms with him though, so you supposed it was a good idea in the end. Of course, you didn’t remember much after the first two shots, so you hoped that you didn’t embarrass yourself too much. You wondered if Jungkook would still be home or if he would’ve left already. You were hoping to catch him so you could say a proper goodbye. It would be embarrassing if the last time he saw you was you drunk off your ass.

As you opened up your mailbox, a package addressed to you fell out. You bent down to pick it up, unable to recall if you ordered anything recently. You quickly tore the envelope open and pulled out what looked to be a sketch pad.

You furrowed your eyebrows, double checking the name on the package. It was definitely for you. Hmm.

You began flipping through it. Countless images of a girl of all different ages flashed in between your hands. Upon looking closer, they all seemed to be of you. You recalled the buns, and the uniform, and the sunhat, even the pajamas you had worn for years before they were ripped in too many places.

You gasped, looking over your shoulder. Were you being stalked? This was so creepy you didn’t even know where to begin. You couldn’t tell who sent the package. You were hoping this was a surprise from Tae, so you pulled your phone out to call him back, but a small red bubble signaled that you had an unheard voicemail and it caught your attention.  You didn’t remember missing anyone’s phone call.

Ah, it’s from yourself! You furrowed your eyebrows and hit play, holding your phone up to your ear to see what drunk Y/N might have to say at a time like this.

But the longer you listened, the more you began to understand. Your eyebrows shot up as you dropped your grocery bags onto the pavement, listening to Jungkook spill his heart out to you. Your eyes watered, hearing the longing in his voice. And the things he was saying… your knees threatened to buckle underneath your own weight. You opened the book again, looking at the dates on the corners of the pages. Some drawings were vivid enough to make you recall memories you had long forgotten about. The message ended, so you hit replay, again, and then again.

Suddenly you were quickly scrolling through your apps to call for a ride, praying you would make it to Jungkook in time.

Jungkook spent the 40-minute ride from his old house to Incheon listening to music and thinking about you and his dog. He wondered if he might start dreaming about you again, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t, since it would be counterproductive to him leaving. He needed a clean break.

He also hoped Tae would take his advice about what pet food to buy. Tae had a tendency of spoiling his dog with terrible food choices.

As he exited the vehicle and secured his belongings, he thanked his driver for the ride and headed into the airport that awaited to take him to an island he’d never been to before. He tried to picture himself there already, wondering if he’d fit in well enough and if he’d make any friends right away.

“Jungkook!”

The boy stopped walking and yanked his headphones off of his ears, wondering if he had imagined someone calling his name.

“Jungkook!”

He turned around, only to find you right behind him. His eyes grew wide as he wondered what you were doing here.

“You… you dream about me. No, you’ve been dreaming about me, for a long time. Why didn’t you—”

“Why didn’t I say anything?” Jungkook huffed, looking around incredulously. “C’mon Y/N. Why would I?”

“Jungkook…”

“Save me the pity party. I didn’t tell you all of that so you’d feel bad.”

“No, stop! This isn’t that. You’re just…you’re just leaving! You believe I’m your soulmate, but you won’t even fight for me. God, you make me so mad!” Your eyes grew misty as you balled your fist at your sides.

“Yeah, I know it in my heart that you are, no, in my bones, in my very being. In all that I am, it all just comes down to you. Hell, soulmate might not even cover it Y/N.” Jungkook’s eyes began to water as well and you looked away, a few tears spilling when you blinked. “But Taehyung is just as important to me, if not more. He’s my soulmate too, and I choose him. You should too.”

You wiped at your cheeks hastily, breathing shallowly as you tried not to sob here in the airport in front of all these people. You nodded, trying to put a smile on your face. Of course you’d choose Tae, so why did it feel as though your heart was breaking in two?

Jungkook watched as your face began to break. He crossed the distance in between you, placing his hand behind your head, bringing you into his chest. You let out a few sobs as you clutched onto his shirt. Your entire frame began to shake, so he put his luggage down to hold you in his arms properly. He kissed the top of your head as he tried to focus on not crying too. He knew he wouldn’t be able to leave if he stayed here with you any longer, so he backed away and gave you a weak smile before turning around and blending into the crowd of people heading in to check in.

You cover your face with your hands, willing yourself to stop crying so hard. When you could no longer see the top of Jungkook’s head, you wiped your nose and left just as you came.

[polaroid15]

Febuwhump day 3 - Imprisonment

Hey everyone! Here’s day 3! This is one of my favourites, so I really hope you enjoy! <3 <3

Summary: 

“What do I need to do?” 

“It’s simple, really,” the man replies. He steps closer to Peter, gaze hardening. “Though I set up the board, the game is in your hands, Stark. Find the boy before it’s too late, and collect your prize.”

Another pause.

“How much time do I have?”

“Well, until he bleeds out.”

---Or, Peter is kidnapped by a crazy guy in a clown mask. Typical.---

Read this chapter and previous ones on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29138196/chapters/71656323

---

   The room is freezing. 

   Waking up is horrible, the cold seeming to penetrate every cell in his body before his eyes even have their chance to open. When by some miracle they do, he’s met with a dark and unfamiliar room. A basement, by the looks of it, stripped down to its cement foundation. 

   It’s January, a very unfortunate time to be kidnapped and brought to an undeveloped basement, Peter thinks. Why his captor couldn’t have waited to kidnap him in a warmer month is beyond his delirious thought process, or why they hadn’t at least let him keep his jacket. Hell, they even took his shoes, which is beyond rude. Every time he breathes a thin vapor rises up to bite at his eyes. 

   Or maybe the sting is just tears. 

   He tries to move, to warm up his shaking body, but it’s practically impossible in his current situation, tied and gagged tightly in every possible way to a thick wooden chair. They must’ve pumped his veins with something to keep him docile, because no matter how much he squirms, he remains stuck. 

   He chokes on a breath behind the gag, panicked, and pulls harder. 

   But he can barely hold up his head, let alone break free. 

   Oh man. 

   Peter lays his head back against the chair and floats for a minute, trying to calm his heart. Tony will come for him. 

   He always does. 

   It’s uncomfortable and lonely, but Peter refuses to be scared. He bites hard on the gag between his teeth to keep them from chattering and stares at the closed door he faces, waiting for his attacker to show themself. 

   The waiting is the worst part, he decides, and shivers again. 

   He thinks of Tony again, wondering if the man knows about his absence as he wiggles his wrists around the tightly knotted rope keeping his hands trapped together behind him. It burns and aches but combats the cold, so he continues to struggle with as much vigor as his weakened body can handle. 

   His mind searches desperately for the explanation of his current predicament, the memory connecting him to this awful place, but it evades him like smoke. 

    A violent shiver rips through his body. He can feel it from the tips of his toes to the crown of his head. God he hates winter. If someone didn’t come for him soon, he’d be nothing more than a Peter popsicle. 

   Before the imagery of the thought can really sink in, the door opens so suddenly that Peter’s shivering stops short for him to jump. Hot adrenaline courses through his veins and causes tears spring up into his eyes at the contrast of it all. The person who enters is tall and broad, their face obscured by a graphic clown mask. A new kind of shiver runs down Peter’s spine like an electrical current and he tips his chin up in defiance, growling unintelligible words at his kidnapper through the thick cloth pulled between his lips. 

   “Hello, Peter.” 

   There must be some form of speech disguiser built into the mask, because the voice that greets him is choppy and mechanical. It fills the empty space between them and Peter narrows his eyes into slits, forcing his heart to keep its normal tempo. 

   Don’t show that you’re scared. Don’t show that you’re scared-

   “I do hope you’re comfortable,” the man says, the silicon skin of the clown twisted up into a manic smile. “I can’t wait for the fun we’ll have.” 

   Peter mumbles into his gag again, feeling powerless without his voice. He twists his wrists again violently, the adrenaline giving him some strength, but it’s not nearly enough. 

   He’s trapped. 

   “Now, now, I know what you must be thinking. What is a boy like me doing in a place like this? Let me assure you, Mr. Parker, that this is no random circumstance. I have been watching you for quite some time.” 

   Even if Peter could talk, he’d be speechless. Fear rushes through him with the force of a tidal wave, stinging at his eyes and rising acid in his throat. The man tilts his crazed, masked head to the side as if in intrigue and lets out a high pitched mechanical laugh. Despite his stubborn resolve, Peter flinches. 

   “Tony Stark doesn’t have many people in his inner circle,” the man continues gleefully, “and I have come to find that you are one of them! A weak, defenseless teenager. The opportunity was simply too wonderful to pass up on!” 

   Not Spider-Man, then. 

   Good. 

   “Tell me, Peter. What will it take to bring our so-called superhero to his knees?” The man steps closer, smelling like cigarette smoke and leather. “How many fingers?” 

   Peter gasps into the gag as the man’s gloved hands curl around his throat, closing tight. “My, my Peter,” the man laughs, stroking his thumb across Peter’s jugular. “Your heart is beating fast. Are you afraid?” 

   Slowly, Peter shakes his head. The grip on his throat tightens and the man’s face swoops down towards him until they’re only inches apart. When he speaks again, it’s only a whisper. “I don’t believe you.” 

   With that, his captor releases his hold, shoving Peter’s head back violently. It takes every ounce of self control not to show his discomfort and he settles once more to glaring at the masked man with as much malice as he can muster. 

   “Shall we give your beloved hero a call?” 

   Uncaring for Peter’s response, the man pulls out a dull black flip phone from his pocket. He must have Tony’s number memorized because he types it in with ease. Peter wonders how he found it. 

   It rings three times, and even though his captor is standing a couple feet away, Peter hears Tony’s voice fill the receiver with perfect clarity. 

   “This is Stark.” 

   As if hardly believing his luck, the clown man raises an animated fist into the air and cackles out a high pitched laugh. It would’ve been funny in a different circumstance. When the laugh dies and the man collects himself, he brings the phone close to the mask where his lips are hidden behind, savouring every word. “Hello Stark.” 

   A long pause meets the greeting. Peter can picture Tony in his mind’s eye, weighing his options with a weary annoyance. Finally, his voice carries through the receiver. “Look, frankly I don't have the time for this. Either tell me what you want or find another billionaire to piss off.”

   “Very well.” The mechanical voice continues to grate under Peter’s skin, unnerving him to the bone. It’s almost worse than the cold. “I’ll keep it short and sweet. For if anyone is to know the true value of time, it’s me. And, of course, our darling mutual friend Peter.” 

   “Peter?” Even if Tony were trying to mask his surprise, it’s failing. Peter grinds his nails into the soft skin on his hand he can reach, feeling a vicious swipe of guilt run through him in icy fragments. “How do you-” 

   “Know him?” The man finishes. His crazed eyes turn to Peter from behind the mask, attaching to his frame with a repulsing intensity. “We’ve been able to spend a lot of quality time together, Peter and I. I see why you love him.”

   The next time Tony speaks, it's in anger. Peter flinches at the sound and tries to control his breathing. “If you lay one single hand on that boy I swear to God I’ll skin you alive.” 

   “Tut, tut. I would speak more kindly to me if I were you.” 

   A measured breath, the softening of tone. 

   “Fine. What do I need to do?” 

   “Simple, really,” the man replies. He steps closer to Peter, gaze hardening. “Though I set up the board, the game is in your hands, Stark. Find the boy before it’s too late, and collect your prize.” 

   Another pause. 

   “How much time do I have?” 

   “Until he bleeds out.” 

   Without further warning, the man pulls out a handgun, aims it at Peter, and pulls the trigger. At first, Peter thinks the man missed. Then, as the ringing echo of the shot fades from his ears, he feels the pain in one giant tidal wave of agony and screams. 

   Even with the gag, the sound is piercing. The man laughs robotically and claps his hands in quick succession. The shot had hit him in the top of his right thigh, the blood warm and slick as it gushes from the wound. He refuses to look at it, keeping his wobbly vision trained stubbornly at his attacker. 

   “Well this has been great fun, Stark, but sadly it’s time for me to go,” he says, returning his ear to the phone. “I would hurry if I were you.” 

   Before he leaves, the man walks up beside Peter once more, phone still connected and in hand. He strokes Peter’s hair, the plastic smile unfailing, and hooks his fingers around Peter’s gag. With a surprising gentleness, he pulls it loose, then settles the phone against Peter’s shoulder where he pins it there with his head. 

   “I hope he hears you take your last breath,” the man says. “Goodbye, Peter Parker.” 

   Peter’s chest is heaving. Before his captor leaves, he snakes his hand down to Peter’s thigh, fingers hovering over the rapidly bleeding wound. He pushes them down into the bullet hole and Peter screams again, ripping his throat raw. All he sees is white, and though his lucidity ebbs like the tide, he focuses everything on keeping the phone pressed against his shoulder. Static runs through the device, but if it forms any words, it's simply beyond his comprehension. 

   When his vision clears, the man in the clown mask is gone. 

   And he’s alone. 

   “Peter?”  

   Gasps turn into sobs. Peter can’t help it. 

   He’s finished with being strong. 

   “T-Tony. Tony!” 

   There’s a heavy exhale of pent up air on the other end of the line and Peter tries his hardest to focus on it, on anything to distract himself from the absolute burning torture in his leg. 

   “You’re- you’re okay kiddo. You’re going to be fine. I’m on my way to get you right now okay?”    

   “It- it hurts-” 

   “I know bud, I know. You’ve been so brave. I just need you to hang on a little longer.” 

   Peter throws his head back against his chair, blinking out stars as unwanted tears leak out of the corners of his eyes like hot wax. The ceiling spins harshly when he looks at it, so he closes his eyes and tries to keep his sobs from erupting. 

   “Parker!” 

   “Wha?” For a moment, Peter thinks he’s being saved. He lifts his head, careful to keep the phone in place. But when his eyes adjust to the spinning room, it’s empty. 

   “You checked out there for a minute,” Tony says. Again, Peter hears the fear lacing his mentor’s tone. It should make him feel scared, he thinks, but it doesn’t. Not really. 

   “S’ry.” 

   “It’s okay. You’re fine. I’m almost there, okay?” 

   “M’kay.” 

   “I’m not getting any reports for Karen,” Tony says, his voice more gentle than Peter’s ever heard it. “Are you in your suit bud?” 

   “No.” 

   “Can you reach the wound? Put pressure on it?”   

   More tears fall out of Peter’s eyes. He wishes they would stop. “N-no. My hands are- are tied.” 

   “Okay,” Tony says again, voice even. “Just hang on. Stay awake. Five minutes, I promise.” 

   “Mmm.” 

   “How was school today Pete?” Tony asks urgently. “Tell me all about it.” 

   Surprised, Peter tries to remember. If Tony’s asking, it must be important. Searching for the memories feels equivalent to walking through quicksand or punching through a brick wall. 

   “Peter?” 

   “Um. Had a chemistry test. Was good.” 

   “That’s great,” Tony says. “What else?” 

   The burning pain in Peter’s leg has faded significantly, replaced by a blissful numbness. He knows it’s bad but is too relieved to dwell on it, sinking into the reprieve with open arms. Distantly, he can hear his blood dripping against the floor, can feel it soaking into his socks. His head wobbles and barely catches the phone in time before it slips.

   It’s almost peaceful, he thinks. 

   “Ben was shot,” Peter says dizzily. “‘S how he died.” 

   Tony’s breaths are short and laboured in Peter’s ear. “Peter Benjamin Parker-” 

   “‘M not scared anymore.” 

   “I’m two minutes out. Stay awake. God please stay awake!” 

   Peter hums, and despite the clear instruction, feels his eyelids flutter. He wishes he could see Tony’s face once more, to tell him in person what he means to him, but the idea floats away from him like smoke. 

   “T-tony?” 

   “Yeah kid?” 

   “I-I-” but there’s no conclusion, no final words. With a sickening twist of vertigo, Peter feels the phone slide from its secure spot in the crook of his neck. It hits the cement, splashing up hot blood, and lays on its side. Peter watches it in detached surprise, feeling the last of his resolve crumbling. 

   Goodbye. 

   If Tony is still speaking through the device, Peter can no longer hear it, his senses muted and dull. He remembers how Ben’s eyes had looked right before he died, wonders if it’s how he looks now. 

   It’s his last thought before the darkness takes him. 

---

   Peter wakes up in someone’s arms. 

   At first, he thinks he’s reunited with his Uncle. Wherever he is, he’s safe and warm. He doesn’t feel any pain. In fact, he doesn’t feel anything at all, his existence a dramatic blur. 

  “Peter?” 

  He must’ve moved. The person holding him shifts to acknowledge his wakefulness, the voice soft and hopeful. 

   It’s not Ben, Peter realizes with some disappointment, though someone similar. Someone safe. 

   “Hey, hey. It’s okay, buddy. You’re okay now.” 

   He must be crying, because he feels calloused fingers wipe away moisture from his cheeks.

   It clicks. 

   “Tony?” 

   “Oh thank God.” 

   Yep, it’s Tony. 

   Peter smiles, understanding. 

   He can sleep peacefully now.

[giggles-and-freckles]

define ‘attachment’

read on ao3

while the dads esteemed Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker--wait for Ahsoka to wake up, they talk about attachment, worry, and that time Ani caused an accidental security breech at the Temple.

“Pacing circles is not going to wake her any sooner,” mused Obi-Wan, quietly closing the door behind him.

He continued walking up and down the length of the bed, as if he did not hear Obi-Wan at all.

“Anakin.”

His head snapped up. “What?”

Obi-Wan offered a small, knowing smile. “You’re worrying too much. As usual.”

“I’m not worrying.” he said quickly, defensively, his shoulders wrought with tension.

“Sit,” instructed Obi-Wan, motioning to the small chairs in the corner.

Anakin sighed in frustration, but obeyed none-the-less.

“You should get some sleep,” suggested Obi-Wan, studying his former Padawan as he dropped into the seat across from him. “She’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Anakin snorted derisively. “I know that you of all people didn’t just try and tell me to get some sleep.” He shook his head incredulously. “Do you even do that anymore, old man?”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. “I sleep.”

“Going to your room and working on mission reports all night long doesn’t count.”

Obi-Wan waved him off, ignoring the dangling bait for yet another argument about how, truly, neither of them got the rest they needed anymore.

“She looks dead,” Anakin said simply. It had never stopped being jarring to Obi-Wan how straightforward Anakin could be without noticing his own lack of social prowess. Ever since he was a boy, Anakin had a particular way of saying the blunt things with no regard for the intake from others.

“Well, thanks to you, she isn’t,” Obi-Wan pointed out evenly.

Anakin frowned. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You told her how to beat them. She only knew about rupturing the coolant system because of you.”

Talking with Anakin was so often like this, these days. Obi-Wan would speak, but it was more like coaxing Anakin to say the things that Obi-Wan had already said.

If he were being honest with himself, he should have been asking Anakin exactly how he had managed to get the information about the coolant system from Poggle the Lesser. He and Luminara had spent hours with the Geonosian, but he’d never uttered a helpful word. Then, Anakin walked in and came out of the room ten minutes later with valuable intel.

But if he were being even more honest with himself, there was a reason Obi-Wan avoided this question.

“I should have been there,” said Anakin through gritted teeth.

“You had no way of foreseeing the situation. It should have been a run-of-the-mill supply run. Your Padawan is more than capable of handling that.” Obi-Wan glanced over at the small bed holding Ahsoka’s unconscious body in it, his lips twitching to a small smile.

He hadn’t had a chance to spend any significant time with the girl, but he had already made up his mind to change that as soon as they all got back to the Temple. She had something burning and illuminating about her.

Obi-Wan had plenty of experience handling volatile objects, but if Anakin was fire itself, Ahsoka was a sun. She had that same intensity and kinetic danger as her Master, but Obi-Wan saw a deep desire in her to use it for the good of the galaxy around her, to help grow and guide it.

“I couldn’t do anything,” Anakin said, helplessly, watching his clasped hands in his lap.

“I know it’s not what you want to hear,” began Obi-Wan gently, “but as your Padawan grows, you’re going to be able to do less and less.” He withheld the sad smile that played at his mouth, unwilling to make this moment about him. “You must teach her as much as you can while you can. Ahsoka was prepared for this trial because of the lessons you have already instilled in her.”

Anakin pulled the glove off his artificial arm and began fiddling with the metal at his thumb, as he so often did. Obi-Wan looked away, pushing away the forced reminder of the time he had learned how powerless he truly was to protect his own Padawan.

“I want her to be safe,” said Anakin quietly.

“I know.”

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan. “How did you deal with me for ten years? ”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “It’s amusing that you think it ends when the Padawan gets Knighted.”

Anakin offered an appreciative smile and returned to fiddling with his hand. “I’m not like you, Master. You know me...I’m not good at the...attachment thing.”

Obi-Wan bit his tongue from snarking back about the real issue concerning Anakin being too good at the ‘attachment thing.’

How many times had the Council requested Obi-Wan specifically talk to Anakin about his disregard for the Code when it came to attachment? And how many times had Obi-Wan balked, wondering if it was actually Anakin’s greatest weakness or greatest strength?

Of course Mace Windu and Yoda could ask Obi-Wan to have those conversations with his Padawan; they’d never experienced the euphoria of Anakin Skywalker choosing them over a tight principle or expectation.

Raising Anakin had made Obi-Wan doubt his own competency with the Code’s edict on attachment.

“You’re not expected to abandon your Padawan or cease caring,” Obi-Wan fell back on the words he had told Anakin so many times already in the few months since Ahsoka had joined their lineage. “You have to find the balance in between it all.”

“You make it sound easy.”

Obi-Wan heard the tinge of resentment in his former Padawan’s tone and tried to ignore the way it made his stomach twist. He wasn’t exactly sure when his existence had started to irritate Anakin, but he’d sensed the tension growing in small doses between them since the beginning of the Clone Wars.

“Then you misunderstand me, my friend,” Obi-Wan shook his head in an attempt to make Anakin see that he struggled, too. “It is incredibly difficult. But the freedom of your emotions being disconnected from your personal relationships is a rewarding one.”

Or so Obi-Wan had been told.

“But how can you have personal relationships without emotions?” Anakin was growing frustrated, rounding back on this same argument they had had so many times before. Obi-Wan became more tired every time.

“Not without emotions,” Obi-Wan corrected for the hundredth time. “You are simply responsible for being mindful of them.”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Anakin snapped, slumping in his seat.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, resisting the urge to chastise Anakin’s blatant disrespect for the Jedi Code. He had to choose his battles these days and this wasn’t one he wanted to engage in. Not when there were two unconscious Padawans in the same room.

“Our next orders came in,” said Obi-Wan, trying out a new thread of discussion.

“Oh. Is that what you came in here to tell me?” asked Anakin, looking apologetic. “Sorry I burdened you w--”

“Never a burden, Anakin,” Obi-Wan held up a hand to stop his former Padawan’s ramble, offering an earnest smile. “I came in here to check on you.”

“If you have things to do, you should go do them. I’m fine.”

“Someone can be fine and still enjoy company, yes?”

“Yes,” Anakin nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”

“You know,” Obi-Wan began, settling deeper into his chair, “your first solo mission wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, either.”

“Nope, no way,” Anakin shook his head fervently, smiling none-the-less, “this is not an invitation for storytime.”

Obi-Wan grinned, unclipping his lightsaber from where it was poking him in the side and laying it on his lap. He was just getting started ; may as well be comfortable. “Ah, my former Padawan, how much you still have to learn. I don’t need an invitation to humiliate you.”

“Don’t I know it,” grumbled Anakin, rolling his eyes.

“Let’s see,” the older Jedi sighed wistfully. “It was slightly cloudy, no... very cloudy--”

“ Obi-Wan .”

“--and this young sprite of a Jedi came bustling into my room telling me he had received his first solo mission.” Obi-Wan sighed dramatically. “Now, imagine my surprise at this news considering I was the boy’s Master, yet had received absolutely zero communication about this.”

“It was a misunderstanding,” groaned Anakin.

“Hmm, so was the misunderstanding with the forged paper signed by Grand Master of the Jedi Order, Yoda ...or the Padawan delivering it to me?”

“I wish I was the one unconscious right now instead of Snips.”

“Because you wish Ahsoka to hear this story? Oh, no worries, Anakin. I have every intention of telling her this later.”

Anakin shot his former Master a rude hand gesture.

“The paper said that Anakin Skywalker was to report to hangar seven at ten hundred, misspelled by the way...that was my favourite part,” Obi-Wan smirked.

“ I had just started learning how to read Basic! ”

“Anakin Skywalker was to report to hangar seven at ten hundred to embark on an off-world mission with no company other than the astromech known as R2-D2,” quoted Obi-Wan. “So, of course, I rolled out of bed and packed your bag for you because who was I to disobey such legitimate orders from the Council?”

“You were cruel.”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “I was bored.” he corrected. “Now this part of the story always trips me up. Was it you or your droid that set off the hangar alarms?”

“Neither. It was you when--”

“No,” Obi-Wan shook his head. “I only checked the flight reports and saw that there were no departures scheduled for hangar seven. Since you had orders directly from Master Yoda, I knew that it must be the flight reports that were wrong, so I simply did a manual override--”

“Yeah, setting off the alarms.”

“Oops,” Obi-Wan smiled, closing his eyes as he put his arms behind his head and reclined back.

“I don’t know how you have everyone except for me convinced that you’re some sort of Jedi golden boy. You’re a menace.”

“Master Kenobi?” a new voice interrupted the two men’s vocal spar.

Anakin and Obi-Wan stood up, quickly, bowing their heads toward Luminara.

“Obi-Wan,” Luminara nodded respectfully, “I was wondering if I might speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan re-clipped his saber, following her out the door. He sent a last glance over his shoulder toward Anakin.

“I’m fine,” chuckled Anakin, motioning for his former Master to continue to the hall. “Kix said she should wake up in a few hours. I’ll be here.”

Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow.

“Sitting down. Not worrying,” he continued.

Obi-Wan smiled, closing the door behind him.

…

After Luminara had gone over the plans from the bridge to jettison and caught him up on Master Fisto’s inventory, he made his way back to the medical room holding Ahsoka and Barris. He gently pushed open the door, hoping to catch Anakin pacing again and preparing to poke fun at him for his worried antics over the Padawan he didn’t even want a couple of months ago.

Instead, Obi-Wan paused in the doorway, finding that, for once in his kriffing life, Anakin had followed not one, but two of Obi-Wan’s orders. He was seated in the chair as promised and asleep.

Of course, it wouldn’t be Anakin Skywalker without a liberal interpretation of orders and Obi-Wan couldn’t do anything but smile at the fact that Anakin had physically dragged his chair across the room to set it directly next to Ahsoka’s bed.

He appeared to have made an effort at maintaining sentry duty, but had ultimately been defeated, his body slumped forward onto the bed in front of him. One of his arms lay across Ahsoka’s waist and his head was completely buried into the bedding. Whether or not she had been conscious of it, one of Ahsoka’s hands rested on Anakin’s head, her tiny fingers woven into his curls.

Obi-Wan stood in the doorway for another moment, trying his best to commit the details of this picture to his memory, before he slipped back into the hall, a content smile on his face.

[prince-toffee]

Fallin’ For A Fallin’ Angel

Perfect.

Another day, another three hour meeting with the Hillian Council. Yet another time Niro has been forced to listen to the idiotic and outdated ramblings of the Council’s Priests, or ‘High Priests’ or ‘Grand Priests’, whatever their full damn title was. He hated them. With every fibre in his body. Just hearing their proposals and demands sparked flames that burned through his chest. He was King! For crying out loud! He shouldn’t have been able to be chained and caged like this, imprisoned in his own Council Room, in his own castle, IN HIS OWN KINGDOM! He was the monarch of this land, it’s King! Yet he felt trapped, thanks to the devious and manipulative web spun across the oceans of politics and government. He felt powerless in his own throne, well that was because he was utterly powerless, the title of King didn’t mean much, it was an honorary title, the Priests were the ones whom truly held the power.

Niro attempted to circumvent their laws and rules - he had a child. More importantly a daughter - a Princess. The teenage girl held more power than him, Princesses ruled this world, and the Princesses were ruled by a Queen. But one thing at a time. Through Amanda he managed to control certain things, but not the entire chessboard. Of course one of the things he was unable to control was the participation, attendance, timing and frequency of Council Meetings. And so he was trapped, punished for being a leader of his people. 

Niro immediately knew it was going to be a bad day, he didn’t believe in a higher power, but he had that feeling, that the world was against him. Started with the knot in his neck when he woke up, then being called to attend a morning meeting, which took half an hour longer than usual. Something about a red streak flashing across the night sky a few weeks back. Apparently it was an omen of bad things to come. The worship ceremonies and the communities which indulged in them were becoming more and more unnerved and panicky. Spouting messages of the end times. Niro used all the strength in his mind and soul not to reply, ‘So want’s new?’ in the most sarcastic way possible.

He plastered on a fake smile, the best one he had, and powered through the encounter. Not giving a thought to the rambling old scorpions. Eventually after what felt like an eternity, the suffering ended. He practically power-walked out of the room, making as much distance between the robed men as possible. Once he made it past the first turn of the hallway he gave out a relieved sigh. Out of the blast zone.

Another day, another day he walked out past the town square monument of Queen Angella of BrightMoon, he despised that statue. He often just scowled at it from afar from his balcony. There she was, every day, at the centre, at the heart of HIS kingdom. The Immortal Angel. She had no place here, she and her people in no way contributed to Scorpion Hill. When his mother begged on her knees for the Queen to aid them, nothing came. Hillians were always on their own, never received help from foreign powers, never needed it - but that was just Niro’s pride talking. The kingdom did need help. The supplies of water were running low, as were building materials. The kingdom shrank with each year. Without proper financial support in the desert’s drastic conditions, towns and villages couldn’t have been repaired. Sandstorms, sink holes... raids. The land faced many issues, all of which Niro felt helpless and powerless to stop or improve.

And so settlements were abandoned. People decided to migrate closer inward to the heart of the Scorpion Hill Kingdom. Which stood as Angella. That wasn’t right. The runestone was meant to represent the kingdom’s beating heart, the castle that surrounded it and the hill on which it was built apon.

Another day poverty and homelessness were running rampant, increasing to new heights. Niro needed a blessing. Or a distraction from the morbid topic. Luckily he got one, in the form of his daughter who snuck up on him from behind. Gave him quite a fright. He railed back, placing a claw on his chest making sure his heart didn’t leap out of his ribcage. Anger didn’t surface even for a moment, he burst out laughing even before Amanda did. The two shared a moment of mirth, just for a few seconds the world lit up, and it wasn’t too bad. Amanda gave him a knowing look and Niro rolled his eyes, he knew what it meant. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be too bad of a day.

His daughter practically dragged him to her fitting room to show off her new line of clothing. He agreed to be her model. What could he say, the kid had a talent, and they didn’t spend enough time together, some perfect moment for father daughter bonding. ‘Anda had plenty on her plate as a Princess, her duties as a royal, as a leader of a nation came first, but the girl had other aspirations and dreams. Well, she was more of a woman now, but Niro couldn’t quite lit his little baby go yet. Little girl, it was.

Niro admitted that he wasn’t a big dress fan, but when he tried them on, honestly, not too bad. ‘Anda was going to change the world, he knew that, he saw it in her eyes. That same spark that burned in his own eyes, but it was freer, she could do things he never could. She could fight back in ways he couldn’t. She was stronger than him.

“I don’t know, ‘Anda.” Niro looked over his back and then at the bare thigh exposed by the side slit in the dress, “I don’t think it fits me. I think I’ll just wear my armour to the Princess Prom. Same as always.” His daughter emerged from her closet, traversing the hilly terrain of cloths she threw around. Clutching her arms she held yet another dress, she claimed with confidence that this one was THE one. Niro reminded her she said that the first twenty times. But she assured him that it was perfect now. The King gave way, he could never win arguments with her, he couldn’t say no to that face.

Somewhere around the fourth following dress, the two heard a knock on the door frame, which caught their attention. Their heads swung around to see an overseeing figure at the door. How did she open the door without him noticing? How long was she been standing there?! Her face guard was covering it up with dark cloth, but he could practically see her grinning. He felt demeaned, a King found in a dress, the embarrassment was unbearable.

“Can I help you Force-Captain?” Niro asked not keeping eye contact. He retreated back into the small changing cubical and slide the curtain close after him.

Opal found it quite amusing. She gave a slight nod to the Princess, Amanda returned with a small wave. This didn’t seem like the right situation to indulge in a friendly conversation, so Opal just spoke directly to the King himself, “Your majesty, there is a matter that requires your attention.”

“Can’t it wait?” The disembodied voice from beyond the curtain asked with as much frustration as it could’ve mustered. The noise of zippers and fabric folding could have been heard from behind, alongside a few bumps and clanks along the way. Opal was never going to let him live this down.

“I could take care of it.” Amanda stated pointing her thumbs back at herself, in a jokey manner, “Available Princess waiting on stand by.” She said as she wiggled her shoulders.

“Thanks, Amanda, but this one needs your father. Top-top-secret-classified-stuff. When you get the throne, you’ll be drowning in these fun little puzzles too. Enjoy your youth.” Opal stated as she waved the file in her hand.

The curtain pulled back and Niro marched out. He gave Amanda a light playful noogie, ruffing up her black straightened hair as he passed her. “See you at dinner pumpkin!” He said his farewell and marched past Opal dismissively. The Force-Captain rolled her eyes and marched forward alongside the King. She passed him the yellow file folder without a word. Niro of course took it, opened it and began to look through it.

“You’re not mad are you?” Opal raised her eyebrow at her King, her voice trembling with the vibration of laughter coming up through her vocal cords. She found the circumstance hilarious in a way. Niro remained silent, trying to focus on the sheets of paper of information and their tiny ink squiggles. But he couldn’t quite. He wasn’t mad. Why would he be mad? He was happy for Amanda, he wasn’t over-bearing or over-protective, he was a cool dad, cool, he was cool. He was happy for them.

“You know, about the whole...” Opal continued to push the matter, forcing Niro’s blood pressure to rise, “My daughter going out with yours. The fact that we could be family soon.” The possibility of that future made a few rubber bands snap inside Niro’s head.

He changed the subject immediately, “What’s this?” He lifted the file up. He flipped a page to reveal a picture paperclipped to the side. The photo framed a distant, dark, jagged object in the middle of the desert. Niro squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen, clearly not a rock or a cliff, ruins of First Ones technology perhaps. Or some kind of outpost for the raiders?

“Armageddon. Well, at least that’s what the Priests are saying.”

Niro scoffed and rolled his eyes, passing the file back over to Opal completely disinterested, “I told you I don’t care about their moronic superstition. I haven’t seen my daughter in days, because of this work schedule and you interrupted me for THIS? Ramblings of old mad men? What el-”

“Niro.” She interrupted, “This thing crash landed there.” The scorpion King stopped in his tracks. Machinery that could actually fly? Astonishing. But the astonishment didn’t last long, his mind began to race and consider worst case scenarios. What if one of their enemies have discovered the gift of flight. Was this a test run? And so close to them, in Hillian territory? Absolute dread washed over the King, all he could think to ask himself was: Did this mean war was coming? Did BrightMoon or Dryl or Salineas finally snap, did they finally get fed-up with Niro’s insults and unattendance? This was bad. Very bad. He turned to Opal wearing his worried face, she saw it and read. “Whatever that thing is, it doesn’t bare any insignias of any known Kingdoms.” The cogs turned again, that was good, that meant no imminent war while Scorpion Hill is disorganised. But, also bad news, an unknown threat.

“Is it First Ones?”

“We don’t know. It’s too far out.”

“What do you mean TOO far out?! Assemble a detachment and survey the area! I don’t understand w-”

“Niro, we DID sent a detachment in... the thing is they DIDN’T come back.”

The King of Scorpion Hill fell silent. An unknown opponent had just entered the game, right under his nose, no less. This couldn’t mean anything good. A full detachment, at least dozen missing. Maybe dead, since no ransom demands were made. Everyday he felt his Kingdom crumble beneath his feet, control slipping from his grasp, all his life he felt so weak, like he had nothing to contribute to his Kingdom, to his people. Another day, another failure.

But not this time, today was a day for change. Niro turned to Opal and barked an order, “Prepare my horse. I am leaving to investigate this at once.”

“But-”

“Did I not make myself clear?”

“No, you did. Right away, sir.” Opal, slightly shook by the power of the response, saluted the King and made her way swiftly to the royal stable to ready a steed for the mission.

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

Another day, another awful, exhausting, miserable day on this worthless backwater planet. HTK218-666 swiped the coolant dripping from his forehead, he was perspiring too much, because of the damn heat. The environment on this planet was unbearable. And worse than the heat itself was the lack of logical explanation for the heat. This system had NO SUN! How life was sustained 218 did not know. Nothing on this planet made sense. He hated it.

Another day he felt nothing but hatred. A part of him wished to give up, just give into the heat and let the earth consume him. Die in dignity and silence. It seemed like the best way to go. But there was another side of him, and it screamed at him, yelled and shrilled, that side forced him to stand up each morning and continue on. The loyal side of him, the pride, the thought of reuniting with his Brother.

He was a Horde trooper. He had to persevere.

And so he stood up and he persisted. The glass cover of his personal pod got jammed again. He only just awoke and already a problem troubled his head. He gave an exhausted sigh, rubbed his eyes and then the bridge of his nasal cavity. He forced the cover open with his foot, he knew his lower body had more muscle mass and strength as oppose to his upper half. He heard something going loose, a hiss of gases escaping the structure - must’ve been the cryogenic mechanism. The pod no longer supported long term recharge functions. Which was bad. It meant 218 had a time limit on how long he could remain on this planet. 218 dislodged the pod cables connected to his back and stumbled out. He fell to his knees a couple of times before gaining balance.

He reached out for his clothing, sitting on a bench near the corner. He decided, for some inexplicable reason he’d recharge without his uniform, bare chested. He liked it better without the fabric of the uniform catching on the inside of his ports, he hated having to pull strings of fabric out. The uniform’s short cape was torn off and used to drape over and around 218′s head and neck, to protect him from the heat. Even though, once again he wasn’t sure it’d help, since there was no SUN! It mattered little. He just had to push forward.

And so he did. Another day, another routine check up. He entered the control room, scaled the tall steps and approached the central panel. He stood stiff as the systems attempted to boot up again. He thought he might install a chair in that spot. He hated having to stand for so long.

The ship was an absolute mess. The lights in the room flickered, another thing on the list to fix was the power fluctuations in the power grid. But he couldn’t reach the power core chamber, because it was bored deep beneath the surface and blocked off by quite sizeable debris. Which he could access with the aid of maintenance robots. But all bots were destroyed or damaged during the fall. So he salvaged spare parts from the damaged units and substituted missing elements with objects that of the ship itself. He was a general, he held countless data streams related to construction and engineering, thanks to accessing his brothers’ minds multiple times every day of his life. 

And so he managed to construct a couple of spherical quadruped bots as substitutes. He spent, what he assumed were nights on this planet, working on those. The bots were no great feat of engineering, they were uneven, tripped over their own feet, walked into walls and in some cases even combusted, leaving 218 to complete various repairs on the ship by himself.

He got very little recharge, he was sluggish and uncoordinated, the lack of self-maintenance probably did not help the black outs. The clone trooper noted that the faintings were getting worse and worse, more frequent, longer and more painful. But his tiredness was nothing compared to the feeling of guilt and disgust in his belly. He was dismantling the designs of his Big Brother. And then on top of that, he was altering them, he was dissecting perfection and then tainting it with his defective influence. He felt ashamed. But machine gave way to man and animal and the urge to survive came through.

The control panel veered to life with green lights. The display showed the schematic of the warship, but not much beyond it, the sensors were in bad shape, half melted from the entry to the planet. The ship picked nothing up from the surroundings. 218′s eyes had to do it on their own. He wasn’t sure if there were any threats near him, he spotted a few nomads pass by. They hadn’t started anything so the general felt safe for now. But he couldn’t be too sure, after all he was but a defect, he could not win in a physical confrontation. So put it apon himself to set up multiple traps around the wreck, it wasn’t much, but perhaps a warning would be enough for now. He also doubted that the welders on the bots were enough to act as a deterrent, so he hoped to install firearms into the bots as soon as possibly.

The half built, hull missing, spherical bots rose up and they too veered to life with a green light, well... life was a stretch. They weren’t alive. They weren’t supposed to be. Where they?

The hand full of bots began to march onward, continuing their duties. 218 sighed in relief, they worked, and none of them imploded, a sign of progress. He stretched his aching bones - he really needed a chair here. The general liked being above his troops, seeing from a vantage point as progress was being made. He liked it. Feeling larger than life. Untouchable. It made him feel safer. He heard a ping on his screen, he turned around to see the small red light blinking at sector seven. A malfunctioning bot. Perhaps he should retract that statement about progress. He sighed, collected himself mentally. 218 marched forward and to sector seven. The hallways were dark, only lit up by red emergency lights and an occasional spark of electricity from a loose wires. 218′s mind made a mental note of every problem as he pass it in the corridors, took it into a list of things to fix, if possible. He worried most of the damage might’ve been irreversible.

But he couldn’t focus on that, he wasn’t stuck here, he was going to get off of this insignificant planet. He was going to stand by his Big Brother’s side soon, once again. He was going to win in the end. The walk to sector seven wasn’t long, a few levels up and he was starring at a massive hole in the hull, half of the sector was incinerated, it sustained most damage, it was useless to 218. So it was being taken completely apart and reused for other purposes. He remembered sending one of his own bots to start the process. The clone trooper spotted the semi-spherical drone ontop of a metal beam above him.

218 scaled the near wall, he knew his frail body would shatter instantly apon impact if he fell, but he chose to purge the thought out of his mind. He’s bones ached and his flesh burned, this was why he had bots. He leaped from the wall to the jagged beam, his arms wrapped around it, but gravity took it’s toll. He screamed out in pain, his arms felt like they were about to rip out of their sockets. He had very little upper body strength left in his decaying arms, but he pulled himself up, grunting in pain. Walked forward on the beam, loosing balance a couple of times now and again. He made it to the bot.

It was shacking, a noise of it’s inner components could have been heard shifting and knocking into one another. 218 looked around the bot to check for any external damage. He did in fact find a pretty sizable indent in it’s hull, which had several cracks running out of it. The general recalled during one of his previous panic episodes a few days ago he snapped and unloaded at one of the bots he was constructing. His thoughts went to dark places many times, his mental state wasn’t getting much better. Worse actually, it was getting worse with every day. But his Big Brother was going to come for him, he knew it, he needed him.

218 dislodged the bot from the beam and it fell down to the floor beneath. It looked like it jammed as it was cutting the beam down. He gave out an order to collect unusable metals, he planned to smelt them down and then repurpose them with greater applicability through that process. He planned to use the power core to do it, but he had to get it first, hopefully the newly built bots were making good work of that debris. Good five or so stomps at the edge of the hot cut and the beam fell down. 218 sat down huffing in exhaustion, he hated being tired out by basic duties, he hated being weak, hated showing it. The broken man quickly realised he was going to have to drag the beam down to the power room himself, since the bot was currently walking on his side. He couldn’t help but rub the bridge of his nasal cavity. Morning, and he was fed up with life already.

218 elected to give himself a short break to gather his sanity, or not so short if he wished. After all, there was no one to hurry him. It felt nice, even thou a little guilt and selfish. He had too much freedom than he knew what to do with. The general looked up to see a cloud of dust kicking up in the distance. His eyes widened. Natives? Intruders!

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He looked over the horizon of the desert, a barren wasteland no more apparently. The clone spotted a band of unknown individuals, the strange thing was they weren’t approaching the wreck of the warship, 218 studied their movements. They were scouting, they were studying HIM, checking out the surroundings of the ship. Rightfully so, the general wasn’t an idiot, if it wasn’t some sort of raiders it would have been rapid animals, he knew an invasion was a matter of time, so he prepared.

He set up traps, all around the perimeter. They would act as safety measures, at first, soon enough they adapted to serve a different purpose. It would trap sustenance. Disconnected from his Brother’s holy word, away from his life sustaining Purification Solution, which once burned through his veins and made him pure. Through pain, he became worthy. And so he was willing to endure it now, and remain strong as long as he needed to, to finally prove himself to Him. But to survive without his Brother’s life essence, he had to resort to... unwanted alternatives.

He started to feel light headed, his stomach giving off sharp pains, as if a blackhole was forming in his body. He didn’t know what it was, this desperation, to hunt. His traps never capture anything deserving of awe, a lizard scurrying here and there, a small scorpion, those were the crunchy ones, in rare instances even a bird, those had the most amount meat on the bones. Again, nothing huge, but it helped him survive.

He chose to swipe over the perimeter, see what his traps got him tonight. Nothing major he counted two rats, a lizard and it seemed a trap malfunctioned and impaled a rock... Although, he thought, it was quite peculiar. He found no rocks or stones around the vicinity, from a quick observation it seemed like it was thrown in... they were testing the booby traps. Perhaps 218 had to move up his schedule and start the weaponization process right away.

And so the scheming went into motion. He was a strategist, he fought against overwhelming odds countless of times, this was no different. He might have been alone, without his brothers’ voices, but that only meant he had more place for his own thoughts to fill the void - work helped. The traps he set up around were contraptions he put together from scraps of the firing silos. He practically had weapons set out already. Ignition pins which impaled explosive material and lit it, incineration plates which drew power from solar energy - not very useful on this world, and laser emitters, often used to cut through waste in the way of the warships. All deadly tools if used right.

His soon to be attackers were armed no doubt, and coming in large numbers - he spotted at least half a dozen at the same time. He had to level the playing field.

Clones had an agreement among each other, the defects did anyway, a saying they told each other: Whatever happened on Epsilon-19, stays on Epsilon-19. No one wished to relive those painful memories, well, they didn’t have a choice, everyone had night terrors. The initiative was a blood bath. But technically no one was around to hear him, he was alone with his own thoughts. So he wasn't really breaking the agreement. Clones were thrown to the dirt with scraps and were expected to adapt. There was a strategy they enacted, the defects on the frontlines would leave the middle section of a trench open and retreat to the left and right wings of the dug out. The enemy proceeded to storm the trench, thinking it had been left undefended unintentionally. Once the enemy forces trickled in, they were caged, and imprisoned, no space to move, they were easily picked off.

History repeats itself.

218 removed several traps creating a clear path straight from the outskirts to the opening of the ship wreck. Even though he got the notification of breaking through to the power room, he recalled the bots back to him, and carefully refitted them with deadly force. Fortunately, the bots did not look like futuristic miracles of science, but rather clumped pieces of scrap, or debris. 218 positioned them at the sides of the entrance, both inside and out. Having his enemy pinned, helplessly.

Well timed too. The preparations took him all day. He looked over the sky as it slowly pushed its light to the side and darkness took its place. 218 did prefer working under the cover of shadow. The field of sight was limited, 218 had an advantage with the contacts infused into his eyes. People at night were typically more jumpy and uncoordinated.

Everybody was afraid of the dark. It was a strangely universal phobia. The dark. 218 traversed the known universe, going from planet to planet and every world he set foot on, the native inhabitants always feared it. The unknown, that what they could not see, the dark held power over people. But there was one who did not fear it, one who made it his eternal mission to eradicate the darkness, to save the universe from itself, to purify it. His holy Brother. Hord-

218′s internal monologue was cut off by the sight of a distant red flame being ignited. They were trying to light their path. Many attempted to tread the path of righteousness without his Brother’s hand, without his light. A righteous path without his eyes watching over you is not a righteous one at all.

The general counted a dozen invaders. Not for long. They made their way slowly and wearingly to the hull breach. 218 watched the group come closer and closer, from a vantage point above them, observing through the hole in section seven. His talon hovered over a data-pad, ready to boot up the bots for the strike. Three. Two... One. The talon fell down. The bots among the debris and scraps whirred to life clearly startling the group. The one protecting the rear ran, clearly the coward of the group, they didn’t last long once the treaded off the path and landed on an incineration mine.

The rest retreated inward where met with two drones with incorporated laser canons. He knew he shouldn’t show emotion, it was forbidden in the Horde, but he couldn’t help but smile. He quite loved when everything went according to plan. The rest of the four attack drones outside caught the stragglers attempting to push through. 218 mentally pated himself on the back, a solid plan and it worked perf... ectly? Perhaps he should’ve reserved the self-appointed congratulations for later. The mission wasn’t done.

A bot failed- malfunctioned. Prime damnit! It was the same one. The semi-spherical bot practically exploded in flames. The blow damaged the near by units as well. 

It looked like he was on his own.

He turned around and sprinted off into the dark, shadow filled corridors. He didn’t have much. He had his talons, his fangs, and his mind. He didn’t even manage to finish the handheld taser, he had an idea to refashion the lights from the hallways into some sort of staff, or baton. It wasn’t anything lethal, but it would’ve at least been something.

But he was a Horde trooper. A disciple of his holy Brother. He could not falter. He couldn’t fail. He was a Horde trooper the reflection of his Brother’s perfection. He needed to represent it.

218 rounded the corner ready to take a stand against the survivors, but the red pincer claw that collided with his face had other plans. The impact of the punch shook his entire body. And a single hit was enough to bring him to the floor. As quickly as he could he put his two hands underneath him and he pushed up, attempting to get back to the fight as fast as possible. But alas, before he even fully turned to face his attacker, another hit landed. It clearly ruptured some blood vessels as his nasal cavity began to bleed out.

Everything went blurry, he remained conscious, but 218 didn’t know how long he was going to last. A large red claw clamped around his neck, pain shot across his whole body, the pincer dug into his defective skin around his neck, and 218 let out an ungodly scream.

Yet again the animalist survival instinct kicked in and 218 flailed his hand at the opponents face, his talons scratching the attacker’s face, distracting them. 218 reached out with his hand to the wall, grabbing a pipe sticking out from the wall and with the remaining might in his arms he ripped the loose pipe out and swung it against his enemy’s head. Which freed him from his enemies grasp.

218 shot up onto his feet and sprinted off down the corridor. He didn’t even know where he was going, all those damn corridors looked the same! No, focus. Each had a different distinguishing factor, each was different in a surtain way. He memorised all the faults and damage in the corridors. 218 looked up and spotted the same sparking loose wires, he recognised them, he composed himself and knew where he was, which meant... the power core wasn’t far. He heard his pursuers behind him, shouting out his location. He fled deeper into the bowls of the ship into the power core chamber.

There at the centre of the room stood the power core, he noticed that instead of it’s usual bright green colour, it was now a dark red. If 218 remembered right, it was a critical failure alert. The best theory 218 could have come up with at the spot was that the power grid overloaded itself when he kicked the shields into overdrive as the ship fell through the atmosphere and hit the surface.

A problem for another day. He stopped infront of the core and waited. If he couldn’t win through his physicality, he’d win with his intellect. One of his attackers ran into the room, they didn’t stop, good, 218 needed the momentum. The attacker went in for the hit, but missed as 218 lowered himself grabbed hold of the individual and rolled them over his back into the power core. Perhaps not the most painless death, but the heat was quick. The body fell at 218′s feet.

He turned back to the entrance. There stood another invader. They did not charge, they stood in place. Stiff. Probably a reaction caused by the sight of both his comrade dead on the floor and the black silhouette of the monster over them that killed them.

The intimidation was only going to go so far, he needed to think fast, 218 surveyed the area around him. There. At his feet, lay a long spanning uninsulated cable. 218 was the one on the offensive now, he picked up the cable and ran at his opponent. He shoved the cable into the enemies chest, and the figure stumbled back, but did not fall. Electricity resistant? Noted.

The general soon realised his mistake, he let himself get too close. The opponent grabbed hold of the clone and slammed him into the nearby wall. Vision once again became blurry. 218 couldn’t stand. This was it. He failed. He felt being lifted up and thrown further down the corridor, scrapping the floor. Then a kick. And another and another. Defeat. 218 lay broken on the floor, his bones screaming and his muscles crying. He spitted out the green solution that ran through his veins as it began to leak out of his mouth. He then, barely, through the pain, felt being dragged by the cloth of his uniform.

He was thrown again. His eyes attempted to adjust, he was outside, at the scene of the ambush. The clone lay beneath another one of his enemies, this one holding a spear, looking down on him.

“This it?” The one with the spear asked, clearly in charge. This was the first time 218 truly saw what they looked like. He had watched his people from a distance, seeing them study his defences. But he didn’t notice anything disenable apart from brown cloaks wrapped around them and the four legged mounts they travelled on. But now he had a proper close up view. He did not know what creature they were, he didn’t recognise them as anything he had ever encountered among his many voyages across the stars. Everything on this planet was new and different.

The creature had broad features. The creature that stood over, infront of him had a pair of deep red claws, like the rest. A tail of some sort, with a sharp tip, perhaps it could contain a poison of some kind - he did not look forward to finding out. A platinum colour turf of hair. An exoskeleton shell all across his body, it had sharp spikes coming out of it, and many visible scratches and scraps. The commanding individual had clearly seen action. They were soldiers, like him.

No. Not like him. No one was like him. No one on this planet.

He was a Horde trooper! He was a Horde trooper! He was different. He had something no one else on this planet had! PURPOSE! 218 was on an eternal mission, even now - when stranded, separated and banished. He had to fulfil his Brother’s will. And then the Horde trooper realised something - his Brother’s absolutely perfect wisdom! No one had been touched on this world by the light of Prime! This- This was his purpose. His new meaning! His holy Big Brother’s actions and punishments made absolute sense. His wisdom was truly limitless and far-reaching. He was sent here for a reason! To spread the light of his Brother!

“Yes, sir. There were no other threats... any survivors?”

“No. We’re it.” He turned to face the bleeding clone, “Who are you?” He asked firmly, making it less of an ask and more of a command. But 218 remained silent. His loyalty and honour held his lips shut, these intruders would get nothing out of him. He would not betray his Brother. He would say nothing, tell them nothing - these creatures were going to extract nothing out of him. He had to show his Brother - who sees all - who watches always - that he was not weak, he was strong.

“I said: Who are you?!” 218 did not reply, and so the spear wielding scorpion man grasped him by the hair and dragged him up, and slammed him down into the ground. He had to be strong. “Who sent you?!” 218 said nothing. The claw crashed into 218′s face. “Did the other Kingdoms hire you?!” No answer. He was a Horde trooper! He was a Horde trooper!! Another hit collided with the pale white facial plates, cracking and bruising. “What is this structure! Is it First Ones?!! What do you know about the First Ones?! Where did it come from?! Where did you come from?!” And the clone remained silent, through the several following hits directly to the face, one after another, the world going more black each time. It was a miracle he still had all his teeth.

He had to be strong. He had to win. Even now as blackness surrounded him, the mission stood. Nothing matters but the mission. No exceptions. No faltering. He had to bring the Horde’s light to this world. And all must suffer to be pure.

Another day, full of failures and mistakes. But they were the mistakes of a general, a tactician. What the scorpion creature didn’t realise was that he let 218 get too close. And so the clone general spit into the eyes of his opponent and while blinded he grabbed the spear and ran it through the chest of his attacker. The creature fell. 218 pulled out the bloodied spear and swung it at the scorpion behind him. The reinforced wood shattered as it impacted the scorpion’s head.

This was it. His victorious moment. It was time for him to proclaim his mission, who he was. He was a Horde trooper! And he stood in this dark world as the only indication of his Brother’s light, he was all this world had.

“I AM  A HORD-” His voice was cut as the tail of the scorpion slashed across 218′s neck, “-AK!!!” The clone stumbled past the soldier and fell to his knees, grasping for his throat. Feeling his consciousness fade. Definitely some sort of poison located in the tail tip. He looked back at the figure that managed to sting him, they had collapsed. He wanted to fight it - 218 mustered all the strength he could, all the willpower in his soul, but it wasn’t good enough. Never good enough, was he?

218 fell into unconsciousness. He failed. And as he closed his eyes he let the darkness take him.

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Another day.

Another day full of surprises and twists. The horse treaded the open path carefully, death trap contraptions on each side. The horse was ordered to stop by it’s rider and was dismounted. Force-Captain Opal pulled out a basin full of clean water and placed it under the animal to reward it for working under heat of the desert.

King Niro didn’t look back, but rather forward - at the dozen bodies laying dead on the ground. Over time Niro got used to seeing his own people dead, desensitised to the slow dying of the Hillian spirit. But these were soldiers, they knew the risk and the commitment asked of them, they died - but they died for a greater cause - for Scorpion Hill.

The king kneeled down, near one of the presumed lifeless corpses, his eyes narrowed. The chest - it was raising and falling slightly - breathing. “Force-Captain, medic! We have a survivor here! Maybe two, if we hurry!” The medic made it to the person first. Opal was behind him. Niro placed a claw on her shoulder stopping her from seeing the body, without a word the king communicated to her that she needed to brace for it.

As she approached the body, Niro saw even for a briefest of moments her eyes widen, letting a glint of light reflecting off of the moisture. But she said nothing, composed herself like the warrior she was. She let no emotion through.

There was another soldier who seemed to have made it, Niro checked his pulse. But Niro’s eyes fell on a different sight. There was a third body. The king slowly and cautiously approached the strange looking life-form. Strange didn’t begin to describe it, they weren’t any race he recognised, and Scorpion Hill housed almost all of them, from the poorest to the rarest. And yet the being before him was a mystery. He brandished his spear. He utilised the blade at the far end of the staff to turn over the body so it was facing upward.

Niro didn’t exactly know what he was expecting, but this wasn’t it. The being that resided in a mysterious structure that just appeared out of nowhere didn’t look like one would imagine. It didn’t look... frightening. Or he. Or sh- e? They? Niro couldn’t tell, but the creature looked humanoid, nothing threatening about it. Especially not with a resting sleeping baby face. Kind of cute. A killer too. Niro’s two favourite qualities.

He spoke quietly in a whisper to himself, “Alright, universe, I’ll take the bait.”

He placed his pincer at his mouth and gave a sharp whistle to the medic and the Force-Captain behind him, he pointed at the clone, “Them too!” He very well could find to regret that decision, bringing a unknown combatant into his own Kingdom, someone who can take out his soldiers. How was he going to explain this to the Council. Great, he had to now get started on the P.O.W paper work.

Perfect.

[1358456]

Legacy Spoilers - Moon

Moving on to the next character to cause a major plot event, Moon!

Just like before, proceed only at your discretion. Massive spoilers are ahead and yadda yadda semantics.

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- Moon arrives at the region of Galar (with Sun). After consulting the regional map, Moon decides to head towards Lake Outrage, partly to see if it’s at all similar to Johto’s Lake of Rage.

- Moon is attacked at the lake by a wild Dragapult. Moon fights back and captures a Dreepy projectile in the process, but is ultimately outmatched and manages to escape.

- Satisfied that training in this region would be a challenge after all, Moon begins training in the routes near Lake Outrage. During the training, her Shuppet evolves into a Banette.

- In one of the routes nearby, Moon accidentally falls into a hole that leads to a “den” of a gigantic Eevee. Moon is baffled at the sheer size of the thing, and wonders what she should even do. She meets Sword and Shield who jump into the den to investigate the Dynamax Eevee, and eventually captures the Eevee which then returns to normal size.

- Moon is surprised to see Shield’s technical expertise, and even more surprised to see the girl’s Rotom Pokedex. Moon asks Shield if she can analyze the Rotom Pokedex’s electronic signature, in hopes of finding her own which was taken from her.

- Moon spends her time in Galar training and evolving her Dreepy into Drakloak, and hopes to find an Ice Rock somewhere to evolve her Eevee into Glaceon. But unfortunately for her, she bonded with the Eevee a bit too quickly, and due to her nocturnal tendencies, the Eevee evolves into Umbreon.

- A couple of weeks later, Shield succeeds in developing a tool that would locate Rotom Dex signatures. The device fails to locate Moon’s stolen Rotom Dex for a while. But many days later, for a very brief moment, one Rotom Dex signature is found in the direction of Kanto.

- Moon hesitates as she doesn’t want to go to Kanto where Platinum is, and spends a few more days in Galar, purposely devoting all of her attention to training to avoid thinking about going to Kanto.

- Moon receives a message from Platinum, informing her about Blue’s disease. Platinum orders Moon to abandon everything and come to Kanto immediately.

- Moon arrives at Kanto just in time to visit Blue once before she passes away. Moon notices that Platinum is absolutely devastated at the loss, but doesn’t know why she’s affected so much more than the others, and finds herself unable to talk to her due to her fears.

- Moon distances herself from Platinum and begins to investigate where the Rotom Dex signature came from. During this time, she obtains a Dawn Stone for her Snorunt, a Mega Stone for Banette, and her Drakloak evolves into Dragapult.

- A month later, Silver finds out that Team Rocket was behind the kidnapping of Platinum and Y, the raid on Alola for the Rotom Dex, and had even infected Blue and killed her on purpose. Silver wages a solo fight against the organization to get revenge. Moon is shocked that Team Rocket was responsible for killing her friends and Pokemon, and stealing the Rotom Dex, so she joins in his efforts.

- During the long series of fights against Team Rocket, Platinum finally asks Moon what is going on, and why she had been avoiding her. Moon is forced to tell her everything and Platinum is devastated once again, and becomes incredibly upset at the fact that her most trusted junior had been lying to her for months.

- Unable to control herself, Platinum leaves and her words hurt Moon far too deeply. Moon realizes that she doesn’t deserve to be with her beloved senior any longer, and runs away.

- Realizing that she had said things that she definitely should not have out of anger, Platinum begins to look for Moon to apologize, but fails to find her. She enlists the help of Sabrina to find Moon before it’s too late.

- Moon is filled with despair and anger, and heads towards the Team Rocket facility that the Dex Holders were working towards taking.

- But Moon’s best solo efforts aren’t enough, and she is eventually defeated, captured, and killed.

- Moon’s Banette siphons her spirit as she is being strangled. Moon witnesses her own death from the outside. She watches as her murderer snaps her neck, but is powerless to do anything about it.

- Moon overhears her killer’s comments, and finds out that he was the one responsible for kidnapping and interrogating Platinum and Y a few months back.

- Moon overhears of Team Rocket’s plans to use her corpse as bait for the other Dex Holders, and realizes that her suicidal attack on the facility had endangered the others, especially Platinum, who would invariably come charging in to save her.

- Moon falls into absolute despair as she is completely filled with helplessness, anger, and thoughts of vengeance. Her Banette absorbs the emotions and becomes a permanent Mega Banette. Its curse overflows from its body as it absorbs more and more vengeful thoughts and soon loses control of it, filling the entire facility with its curse, twisting everything within.

- Moon watches as everyone within the facility falls victim to the curse, and the haunted Rocket members wind up rapidly going insane and begins to kill one another. Moon first revels at the outcome, but she is soon overtaken by her bloodlust and becomes a part of the curse. As she rapidly loses her sanity and control, she leaves behind several thought-imprints.

- A few days later, the Dex Holders are finally ready to assault the facility. Black and White scout ahead for activity, and are confused to see absolutely nothing happening. They enter the facility to check it out and fall victim to the curse as Moon’s ghost attacks them directly.

- With Sabrina’s help, Platinum finds where Moon’s signature is emanating and enters the cursed facility. She finds Black amidst the chaos and works towards unraveling what had happened. She finds Moon’s thought-imprints and realizes that Moon had already been killed, and that her spirit was running rampant.

- Eventually, Platinum finds Moon’s tormented spirit. Moon manages to recognize her and kneels on the floor. Platinum embraces her spirit and apologizes for all that had happened. Moon finally weeps as she managed to reconcile with Platinum and found peace. Her spirit fades away soon afterwards, and her cursed Mega Banette disintegrates as it lost its source of energy, thus lifting the curse from the facility.

- As Platinum and Black escape, they are ambushed by the sole survivor of the Team Rocket facility, the man who had killed Moon. But before the insane man can attack Platinum, he gets hit by an arrow on the face. Platinum turns around to see Moon’s ghost with a bow. Moon bows to Platinum one final time before she dissipates completely and permanently.

[please-return-to-villanelle]

The Fates of Man

S3E7 recap

I’ve been actively avoiding spoilers for the finale so if some of this analysis has already been debunked then I’m sorry for the clownery you are about to read.

Firstly, I’d like to point out the infamous opening title cards are back but this time, they are a greenish color rather than the reddish color we saw in S3E2. It’s worth noting in this episode Villanelle wears green on more than one occasion while Eve is wearing a red colored shirt underneath her cardigan.

It’s an interesting use of opposing yet complimentary primary colors perhaps signifying that Eve and Villanelle are strong and bold personalities that lie on opposing sides of this spy game and the psychopathy spectrum, but they complement each other none the less.

In the opening scene, Villanelle is meeting with Helene and her go-to assassin Rhian. The purpose of this meeting is for Helene to assess Villanelle’s fitness for duty after her injury on her last mission.

Despite almost failing completely at killing her last mark, Villanelle takes a seat at the head of the table (a seat associated with power and control) and projects an aloof and uninterested demeanor. What I find really odd about this entire encounter is that Helene mandates that Villanelle is unable to work because she is injured and NOT because of her unstable emotional state.

So I have to wonder, why hasn’t the Twelve sent Villanelle for a psych evaluation in series 3? When she showed she was losing her focus in series 1, the Twelve mandated she had to be cleared by a psychologist before she was allowed to work again. I find it very odd that that’s not happening this season but rather Helene was sent to promote her to Keeper and then bench her because of her arm despite the evidence that she is erratically emotional which is clouding her judgement.

Monstrous people like you often feel like they have to fly solo and keep things bottled up inside them.

Maybe Helene is taking a new strategy with Villanelle and is trying to manipulate her emotions and have her unleash them in a productive fashion. Either that, or she has an alternate plan that does not involve prioritizing Villanelle’s health and safety. I mean if she has Rhian, her own assassin that seems to get the job done, why keep a problematic assassin like Villanelle around? It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense on the surface which leads me to assume the Twelve is using her as a means to an end.

The scene ultimately ends with Helene asserting her power over Villanelle, with Rhian hovering over her shoulder.

Once they exit the room, Villanelle releases her emotions and seems to concede to the fact that she truly has no power in this situation and is very alone.

Her fate as a member of the Twelve is to act as a monstrous puppet and do her master’s bidding. I think this scene ultimately shows that Villanelle’s priorities have changed, and she cannot find peace of mind in the role as monstrous killer and she really does not want to spend the rest of her life by herself.

Later on, Dasha reminds Villanelle of both her loneliness and her lack of joy in taking lives.  

This season has drawn many parallels between Villanelle and Dasha showing that both women are egotistical, perfectionist killers, and started their careers at young ages. I think the writers might be trying to show us what Villanelle’s career path might look like if she continues working for the Twelve. She could end up as a has been assassin who does not “still got it”, is forced to work with others despite hating every second of it, and is be manipulated by her handlers by being denied what she truly wants.

Dasha is under the impression that Villanelle is her final mission and upon completion she will be rewarded with what she wants: her freedom to return home evidently to her loved ones.

Sounds oddly familiar to Villanelle’s wish list, doesn’t it?

The fact that Dasha has family waiting for her is the metaphorical salt in the wound for Villanelle who is still in turmoil over her disastrous family reunion in which she realized that she doesn’t have that sense of family with her blood relatives that Dasha implies to have with her son.  

Villanelle is also lacking the joy and power she used to once feel when she watched the life drain from her victims’ eyes.

This is something her and Dasha had in common as Dasha describes how she feels when she kills and how much she will miss that feeling once she retires. In fact we literally see HOW Villanelle NOW feels after she kills someone (or when she thinks she has killed someone).

Rather than feel powerful, she looks lost and panicked. She does not stick around to watch the life drain and take pleasure in that, instead she runs away from the situation entirely and tells her real mark to do the same. Ultimately, this illustrates that Villanelle choses not to walk the same path as Dasha and does not want to share her fate of working for the Twelve for many years to come.

On the opposite side of the murder spectrum is Eve Polastri who finds an injured Dasha.

It is here we witness the beautiful transition into Dark Eve which arises with provocation from Dasha…

Eve processes the new information that Dasha did in fact try to kill Niko.

She calculates what she wants to do next to deal with this situation.

She chooses her own fate by acting as she wants to with a smile on her face. Revealing to us that, when in control of her decision to murder, Eve feels joy watching the life start to drain…

And she feels powerful while killing.

Could this mean that the higher ups in the Twelve could see this in Eve all along and have been keeping an eye on her to recruit her as an assassin? Or maybe Carolyn had similar hopes and dreams for Eve as well?

Either way, it’s as if Villanelle and Eve are both capable of murdering and revealing in that but they currently lie on opposite ends of this spectrum regarding how they feel about killing at this time. 

Eve feels powerful while Villanelle feels powerless.

We see this juxtaposition with them in their final (and only) scene together.

When Villanelle first boards the train she seems sad and lost but perks up once she sees Eve.

To her, this is tangible evidence that Eve cares about her and maybe she is not as alone in this world as she previously believed. This action from Eve causes Villanelle to reach out to Eve by calling her with the phone number she has apparently had this whole time. Her motivation here is to end the chase and create a new opportunity to form a real relationship with Eve; the one person who seems to care about her despite the chaos. It’s worth noting that Eve cycles through the same thought process when she receives the phone call that she did when she chose to try and kill Dasha (ie giving into her deepest desires).

Eve processes the new information that Villanelle is calling her.

She calculates what she wants to do next to deal with this situation.

She chooses her own fate by acting as she wants to with a smile on her face.

Carolyn begins this episode seemingly in control of her own destiny.

She is making progress with Kenny’s murder and has identified a weasel in MI6 that is working for the Twelve. However, by the end of the episode we see Carolyn realize that she may not be as in control of this situation as she once believed.

I feel the walls closing in on me. This is starting to feel personal.

As a long-standing MI6 agent and head of the Russia desk, Carolyn has to have been involved in many entanglements with the Twelve. In fact, in series 2 she successfully negotiated with them in regard to the Aaron Peele mission. Carolyn has managed to separate her MI6 work life from her personal life for many years and it seems like now that line of separation is breaking down. The death of Kenny and Mo now feel personal attacks to Carolyn rather than the typical collateral damage she is used to.

Perhaps Carolyn too will find a way to once again become the master of her own destiny rather than succumb to the will of the Twelve.

(Carolyn and Villaneve team up in series 4, please!)

Konstantin mentions death a lot in this episode and seems fixated on the many explosive tasks he is juggling. He claims that everyone in his life wants him dead because he is a prick and toys with the idea of letting the Twelve kill him since running away is pointless. They will eventually find him and kill him.

This conversation with Villanelle made me think of the promo photos and the concepts of The Fates (post). Interestingly, each woman has Konstantin tethered at the neck with flowing fabric from their respective dresses.

Konstantin is entangled with Carolyn, Eve, and Villanelle thanks to his money embezzling plan to gain his freedom from the Twelve.

This plan lead to the death of Kenny who was trailing the money and this personally affected Carolyn. Carolyn then involved Eve to uncover what foul play lead to Kenny’s demise which then directed Eve’s attention to chasing down Villanelle.

Konstantin seems to have now made peace with his decisions and accepts his doomed fate.

However, when he is on the brink of death during his heart attack he openly confessed that he doesn’t want to die with absolute honesty. He is revealing in this moment that he will do whatever it takes to save himself and escape his grim fate. 

I am a shit. I think whatever his plan is it will involve redirecting the wrath of the Twelve from him over Carolyn, Eve, and Villanelle Villanelle has already been implicated the most in the embezzling: she killed Kruger’s wife, a death that Paul is very interested in, and now her and Eve are going to retrieve the money (which now implicates Eve). Maybe Konstantin took advantage of Geraldine’s kindness and manipulated that situation to somehow frame Carolyn in all of this without her knowing as well. 

Either way, this is a recipe for an explosive finale that will affect the fates of all the main characters.

[hellreads]

I would really like if you could recommend me any stories with infidelity?

hi there anon, now this is one of the genres/au I enjoy reading, I do not condone cheating/infidelity in any way but there’s this pull you know, I want to get into people’s minds so I read and enjoy (also fucking hurt too srsly a lot of these fics make me bawl right it’s not in past tense because I reread a lot of the stories in here like an affected beech) stories like these, why do they do it? how do they sleep? (actually listening to sam smith’s how do you sleep as I consolidate this list) what triggered them to fall for another soul was it because of love or just plain old lust, as someone who’s been cheated on I know how it feels to be on the receiving end and it sucks the trauma stays with you, you’ll find it hard to trust, you’ll always question yourself, self-esteem will be fucking dippin’ low, in your eyes you’re pitiful and not worthy of being loved especially if you’ve been so fucking loyal like a dog, but a part of me wants to understand because I’m not perfect…

I wanna get in their heads and know how they manage to break a heart that loves them, I guess love will never be enough to keep someone no matter how much love you pour onto them, some love stories are meant to end as tragic as possible to teach us lessons and make our hearts stronger until we find the other half that will make it whole.

this will be a list with different categories, I’ll probably be tagging again the fics I tagged in previous infidelity lists I made because I want this to be the big list, the one I’ll probably update from time to time, the one I’ll keep coming back to when I wanna hurt and leave my tear ducts high and dry, let’s get it! 

P.S: proceed with caution as I have listed taboo & dark themed ones here so pick your poison babes! 🖤

Exhibit A: The One Where You Cheat Together (mutual cheating, both in a relationship (or the other may be single) but still chose to cheat on respective partner/s)

❥ Right of Way by fringesofsanity➴ Infidelity/Lovers!AU | Jungkook x Reader x Jimin | Series➴ In theory, things were simple: your best friend was Jungkook’s girlfriend while your boyfriend, Jimin, was Jungkook’s best friend. In reality, things weren’t always that simple. And mutually exclusive.

❥ Bad Guy by @sweetbunnykook​➴ Mob/Married!AU | Seokjin x Reader x Hoseok x Yoongi | Series➴ After a brutal attack in Hong Kong, your marriage with Kim Seokjin cracks as secrets begin to surface and a series of betrayals find their way into the veins of the Hidden Tigers. Although Jin’s devotion endures, in his own definition, the reality of being a mob wife may be too much for you to bear.

❥ 2U by @milkyyjmn  ➴ Surrogate!AU | Jungkook x Reader x OC | Series➴ You were simply trying to make a living and give the opportunity of having children for the women who couldn’t. You meet a couple who plans to have a steady life — you being the last puzzle piece for it all. But you acknowledge the boyfriend, Jungkook, who questions if he actually wants it.

❥ Clandestine by @ditzymax ➴ Assassin!AU | Taehyung x Named OC x Jungkook | Series➴ As a professional assassin, Kim Kinsoo has many shrouded secrets in her life. Some of them she shares openly with her loving boyfriend, but there are other things he must never know.

❥ My Way @ellieljade➴ Infidelity!AU | Jungkook x Reader x OC | Series➴ Jungkook doesn’t appreciate your boyfriend’s insistence that he stops sleeping with you and he knows just how to prove that you like it his way.

❥ Wildest Moments by @joonbird➴ Infidelity/Producer!AU | Yoongi x Reader | Series➴ “Min Yoongi is forbidden territory. And although you both know better, the two of you just can’t seem to stay apart.”

❥ House of Cards by @aiimaginesbts ➴ Exes/Roommates!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook | Series➴ A love from high school days lasted until marriage. Just not yours. 

❥ Infidelity by @jungk0oksthighs➴ Exes/Parents!AU | Seokjin x Reader | One-Shot➴ You and Jin had been divorced for a year but you’re forced to see each other when your son is found cheating on a test. After being called into school you both agree to make more of an effort being civil with each other, but it’s not long before history repeats itself. Family dinners turn into stolen kisses and ruffled bed sheets, but there’s one problem with your new arrangement. Jin’s wife. 

❥ Should We Go Downtown by @honeyedhoseok ➴ BFF/FWB!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Hongbin (VIXX) | One-Shot➴ Taehyung has watched you struggle in your relationship with your boyfriend for a while, always being your shoulder to cry on. He’s learned the best trick to pick you up when you’re down–besides his sensation of his mouth on yours–is a trip downtown to the riverfront at nighttime, so you can see the boats coming in on the harbor while he tries to piece back together the girl he absolutely hates to see sad.

Exhibit B: The One Where They Cheat on You 

❥ Only You by @sweetbunnykook➴ Yandere!AU | Jungkook x Reader x Namjoon x Seokjin | Series➴ Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.

❥ Slight Changes by @chiminiemoans➴ Infidelity/Idol!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Jimin | Series➴ Taehyung gets caught. 

❥ My Cheating Amnesic Fiancé | One / Two by wrienne ➴ Idol/Arranged Marriage!AU | Jungkook x Reader x OC |  Series➴ BOOK ONE: In which you (reader) and Jeon Jungkook are engaged due to an arrangement made by both of your parents. Though neither of you especially like each other, you never thought you would find yourself in a relationship with a cheater. To top that off, destiny decides to make an entrance (in the form of a hard hit to a pretty skull) and Jungkook suffers amnesia, which only you seem to be able to handle. What will happen? Will you stay with him and help him through his predicament even though he loves someone else? Or should you simply let him go?➴  BOOK TWO: In which you (reader) and Jeon Jungkook are engaged due to an arrangement made by both of your parents. Or well, used to be. After finally resolving Jungkook’s amnesia and your complicated relationship, one would think that everything was fine. But destiny isn’t done messing with your life yet. Due to an incident where you confronted Jungkook’s brother and your current fiancé about some lies that he had made, you found out about a horrible part of his life that you now feel obligated to help him with. But in order to do that, you cannot tell him about you and Jungkook. Additionally, Jungkook isn’t done keeping secrets away from you - secrets that might destroy your already uncertain relationship permanently. Furthermore, your father’s weak health is a constant worry on your mind, and as news outlets dig out more about your late grandfather’s company’s involvement with the former president, nothing in your already chaotic life will be stable for a long time. Will your relationship with Jungkook make it through all the hurdles and hindrances that destiny sets before you? Or are you two really not meant to be?

Exhibit C: The One Where You Cheat on Them (the other party is clueless (mostly) about the affair)

❥ Who Cares by @floralseokjin➴ Infidelity/Lovers!AU | Taehyung x Named OC x Seokjin | Series➴ What happens when Taehyung falls for someone who’s already taken? Can he control his feelings or will they take over and render him powerless? In the end is it all her fault or his…? 

❥ Comfort Inn Ending by @joonbird ➴ Idol!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series➴ “It was you who Jungkook gave his heart to- that is until the day you broke it. And it is you now, hoping that some faultlines can be repaired and that some broken hearts can be put back together again.”

❥ Cheating by @jhspetitegf➴ Infidelity/Married!AU | Yoongi x Reader x Jimin | One-Shot➴ When you were sixteen, you had a life-plan. While all your other friends had been enjoying their youth; going on innocent dates to bowling alleys or spending Friday nights finishing their calculus homework, you had been setting a path for yourself, one you were determined to follow. Until you were about twenty, things had gone to plan; you were studying at an ivy league college, you had managed to shed any puppy fat you still clung onto around your middle, and you had a wonderful set of friends. One goal still lingered, however, and that was to meet The One.

❥ Access Denied by @littlemisskookie➴ Infidelity/Lovers!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Yoongi | One-Shot➴ Your boyfriend, Yoongi, no longer pays attention to you. So you decide to spend time with someone who will. 

❥ Partition by @iq-biased ➴ Mafia!AU | Taehyung x Reader x Namjoon | Series➴ Namjoon. Head of one of the fiercest gangs in Seoul, and your boyfriend. You know he has been working on something big lately. Whatever it is, he’s keeping it very quiet. So quiet, that you’re beginning to doubt whether he’ll ever get any time with you. But when his driver, the infamous Kim Taehyung, is tasked with taking you home during a date-gone-wrong, he’s got nothing but time for you. And time is something you’re finding it really hard to resist… 

❥ Always by @itskimtaehyung ➴ Mafia/Married!AU | Jimin x Reader x Jungkook | Series➴ You would die for him, kill for him, and everything in between. He was as much a part of you as yourself. You didn’t want anyone else. It was always Jungkook. 

❥ Apologies by @ellieljade ➴ Idol/Lovers!AU | Taehyung x Reader | One-Shot➴ After a fight, Taehyung can’t bring himself to apologize to his girlfriend until he realizes that she might have moved on. If he wants her he needs to go get her.

❥ Dead Leaves by wrienne➴ Detective/Married!AU | Yoongi x Reader x Jimin | Series➴ In which you (reader) are a homicide detective about to face the biggest hurdle both of your career and life. Married to probably the kindest but most boring man you’ve ever met and living in a town where nothing ever seems to happen means life for you is dull. Dull enough to drive you crazy with boredom and dissatisfaction. However, life changes abruptly when your old boss retires and a new man takes his place - a man you used to love (and sleep very regularly with) more than a decade ago. Especially when your husband comes home smelling of perfume, you’re unable to resist your more carnal urges and dead women start showing up across the city with unnerving frequency. 

BONUS:

Exhibit Dick: One Where OC Cheats on Reader

❥ A Hundred Percent Human by wrienne➴ Hybrid/Host Club!AU | OT7 x Reader | Series ➴ In which you (reader) are forced to take care of seven hybrids in a twist of fate.

After your estranged mother passes away, you’re left with an unwanted will and the heavy burden of responsibility. Although you’re desperate not to stray from the familiar path you thought was laid out in front of you with a fully human boyfriend who loves you more than anything, your life is thrown upside down once more after another unfortunate incident (that may or may not have to do with said boyfriend) occurs.

Drunk and down on life, you finally decide to deal with the house and the unsavory business your mother left behind. However, to your shock, you find that seven very different hybrids are included with both the house - and the business. Seven hybrids you never even met before - even less agreed to take care of.

Set in the not too distant future where infertility has become mankind’s greatest issue. Will contain sexual content.

so this is the list I came up with I hope you enjoy reading all of these stories I listed here, all of these are wonderful in their own heartbreaking way, some are on-going/on-hold series, some ended with happily ever afters while others ended in the most heart wrenching tragic way. | 🍒

[trashcatsnark]

6, 8 - Dahlia 10, 13 - Tsuneko and Mamoru

You didn’t specify SFW or NSFW. So, I do Both

SFW Dahlia and Seeds

6. Going out to eat: Who pays? Who orders the most food? And who has dessert?

answered here

8. Who knows how to swim? Who doesn’t?

I feel like Dahlia and all the Seeds know how to swim. Dahlia grew up in very southern Louisiana, like heel of the boot, so she wasn’t ever far from a beach. She doesn’t remember clearly, unfortunately, but in her little jewelry box of memories and mementos is a photo of her at the beach with her dad and mom when she was a toddler in little floaty wings. 

The brothers learned how to swim early, I feel like Jacob and Joseph were probably taught by Old Man Seed in the throw the kid and the lake and see if they come back up for air kind of way, unfortunately. But they made sure to be the ones to teach John properly. During their time with the farm foster home, Jacob found a creek he’d found and sneak his two brother away to spend the day playing in the water. There was always hell to catch when they came back, but it’s good memories of the few moments they got to be kids. So, each of the brothers still have fond memories of swimming. John when he was with the Duncans also got to enjoy bougie indoor pools, but he’d take a dirty creek swimming with his brothers over that any day. 

Growing up in Hope County, Faith/Rachel also learned how to swim early on. There’s not exactly a lot to do in Hope County as a kid and there’s lots of water, so fishing and swimming were both pretty big and she doesn’t like fishing. As she got older her and Tracey would often go swimming in the lakes late at night to just kind of get away from everything. 

SFW Tsuneko and Mamoru

10. Any pets? Or plants?

Yes! Tsuneko has a pet ferret named Kiyohito, Kiyo to his friends which is everyone. The little guy is always getting into trouble, but he loves cuddling with Mamo when he moves in, Kiyo basically sees Mamoru as a giant bed. They do not have plants though, unless they’re the plastic kind. While Tsuneko is a fantastic pet mom, she cannot take care of plants to save her life. She doesn’t know what it is, but it’s just not worth it. Mamoru is...well Mamoru, he can’t take care of himself let alone a plant. 

13. Who stays up late? Who sleeps the most? Does the other have to force them to sleep/wake up?

Tsuneko stays up way later than Mamoru, she generally before him has a lot of issues sleeping. Though, he has his own issues. Because she doesn’t get much sleep and has nightmares. Mamoru sleeps a lot, but it’s rarely quality sleep, he wakes up and he just still feels tired. This lessens more when they actually live together, because Mamo and Tsun find that they both get better sleep when they’re together. So, he starts dragging her to bed even when she’s trying to stay up to do one of the bazillion things she claims she needs to do. So, eventually their schedules sync up more and more. He forces her to go to sleep and she forces him to wake up, both act annoyed but love it. 

NSFW ASKS UNDER CUT (CAUSE I A RAMBLY BITCH)

NSFW Dahlia & Seeds

6. Dom/top? Sub/bottom? Any switches?

Dahlia is a technical switch with a heavy lean towards sub/bottom. She can get pleasure and satisfaction from either, she likes to do what makes her partner happy. However, her lack of experience, tends to slot her in the sub/bottom role because well, she’d like to do what makes them happy but doesn’t know what would do that. She also...just kinda likes being manhandled a lot. But, she’d be lying if she said being able to dom one of the bros who’re physically bigger and stronger than her isn’t kind of a rush. As a bottom/sub she also tends to be the uh, bratty variety, mouthy, generally has to be a pain in the ass. 

Jacob is dom and top, 99.9% of the time, he just likes feeling in control, feeling powerful. That being said, he doesn’t like an easy win, so to speak. He likes that back and forth sort of power struggle/battle for dominance during sex. He likes to feel like he’s more than earned being the one in control, so, he’s more than okay with Dahlia’s more bratty tendencies. He also like feeling his partner is strong and capable in their own right, even if he’s taking control in the end. When he does let Dahlia do any kind of domming/topping, it’s usually offered almost condescendingly or like a challenge, like oh, i’d like to see you even try, pup

John is described in game as a sadomasochist, meaning he can find pleasure in both giving and receiving pain. So, I’d say that places him in the switch category, he definitely can and does get pleasure from being dommed and topped, with Dahlia it makes him feel wanted and desired. But, I will say i feel he still goes more into top/dom territory, he leans that direction a bit more. Again, due to Dahlia’s inexperience, the Seeds taking control is just kind of natural, but also he’s really clingy and needy, so he tends to initiate and steer the direction of it more. 

Of the Seeds, I feel like Joseph leans the most towards bottom/sub as any other of them. Though, I would still classify him as kind of a service top, I guess. His main focus is on making Dahlia feel good, he wants his partner to feel loved and cared for. He’s the one in control, but it’s all focused on servicing her and making her feel good. He also is very interested in bottoming in traditional ways, Joseph wants to be pegged, you can’t change my mind because it makes him feel loved and wanted as well, he wants to give his absolute all to her, in any, way, shape, or form she’ll take him

Faith is dom/top, most dominant of the Seeds after Jacob. She’s dealt with a lot of feelings of powerlessness over her life, struggling with being underestimated due to her appearance. So, sex is a really nice place for her to be dominant and feel that control. She likes being able to lead things and see the effect she has on Dahlia, whether that’s more soft version of it, massages that lead to pinning Dahlia’s hips down while she plays with her, or more rough, sitting on Dahlia’s face type stuff. 

8. Favourite erogenous zones?

As I’ve said a lot, Dahlia doesn’t have much (any) experience before the Seeds in any universe so, I would say, i thinks she’s genuinely surprised by how much she likes having her ass groped. Like I said, she very much finds out that she likes being groped and manhandled. Like, just one of them reaching over and grabbing a handful of her ass sends her reeling. On a softer note, she also really is into having her hair played with, not pulled, but stroked, ruffled, petted. It just makes her melt and become putty in their arms. 

As weird as it may sound, I think Jacob really likes when Dahlia strokes over his scars and kisses them. She doesn’t ever really point out or talk about his scarring, for a long time it’s always genuinely felt like she just didn’t notice or care. The only time she ever really has said anything is once asking if they still hurt and it was clear she was just concerned for him. He doesn’t consider himself insecure, but he knows the effect his scars have on how some people see him. So when she kisses and strokes them like she would any other part of him, it makes him happy. Other than that, Dahlia likes to tease him about his ears, calling them dumbo ears and wiggling them while telling him to fly away. He glares and calls her a nuisance, but it’s cute and maybe he kisses her a little harder than necessary right after. 

John’s found he really likes having his throat/neck kissed and bitten. Dahlia has kinda prominent canines, so when she gets into sucking and biting at his neck, she leaves a lot of marks. And he loves it. He could just lounge back, with his head tilted back and baring his throat to her for hours as she sat in his lap and covered him in marks. Otherwise, he really likes having his fingers in her mouth too, something about it just gets him riled up when she licks and sucks around the digits. Not only the suggestion of something dirtier, but having her love and desire him enough to worship even small parts of him. 

Joseph, kinda like Dahlia, has his hair as an erogenous zone for him in a way. But, not only does he like the gentler aspect, of having his hair stroked and played with. But unlike Dahlia he is completely okay with her pulling his hair. He likes her taking her pleasure from him, as he puts it. He likes her wanting him and being needed, that harsh pull of his hair just shows how much she needs him. Also gonna make you go bald quicker Joseph, but whatever His other erogenous zone that he loves, that he feels dirty admitting is when she kisses around his hips/belt line, just beneath his LUST scar. There’s just something about her looking up at him, as she kisses him there, with that sin plastered just above her lips. 

Faith has very sensitive breasts, she loves when Dahlia laves attention there, kissing and sucking, leaving marks across them. Even little things like when Dahlia just wants to nuzzle her face against Faith’s chest, deciding she prefer the plush of Faith’s breast to the brother’s more muscled chests. She just help but excited and wanna hold Dahlia there forever. Another slightly more innocent erogenous zone she has is her back. She likes giving and receiving massages a lot. The first time Dahlia gave her a back massage, it was meh, inexperience making a difference. But Dahlia is a quick and eager learner, the more she learns about Faith’s body, where to rub and press, the more those massages take a dirty turn. 

NSFW Tsuneko and Mamoru

10. First to orgasm? Last to orgasm? Who comes the most? Does someone ever end up unfinished?

Assuming it’s sex in which they’re both being stimulated, Tsuneko will cum first. Counting foreplay, technically Mamo cums first usually from her blowing him, stroking him off, etc. Because she knows she’s on the more uh sensitive side, so she likes to make sure he cums before so they’re at least a little more close to even. Last to cum usually depends on if he cums inside of her, if he cums inside of her that’s usually enough to force her into another orgasm. If he’s using a condom or pulls out, he’s the last to cum. Not really, they both wouldn’t be happy leaving the other unsatisfied. The closest to that they ever get is if Mamoru did something to piss her off and then tries to initiate sex before apologizing, than he gets the no, you sit there with your blue balls and think about what you did, treatment. 

13. Who’s loud? Who’s quiet? Does one try to make the other louder/quieter? How?

Tsuneko is a whimpery, whining, squealing mess. Mamoru is more of a dirty talk and grunter, getting a bit more loud and cursing as he gets closer to his end. Mamoru is an asshole who loves hearing the noises she makes so when they’re in a nice private place, his apartment, hers, or eventually their shared home. He’s excited to make her extra noisy. This can be just by doing things he knows she loves as he learns more and more of what makes her tick. This could also be him maneuvering her in ways where she can’t cover her mouth or bite down on his shoulder to suppress her noises, something she usually tries to do. But, if he’s trying to get a little handsy in a riskier spot, he’s instead trying to keep her quiet, cause while he likes a bit of risk. He does not want anyone hearing those noises but him. 

[thestormlionessmemes]

Mary Queen of Scots 2013

Tomorrow there will no longer be two queens in ___.

I find I bear you no grudge.

I know you are as powerless to change your role, as I have been to change mine.

l am frightened, Your Majesty.

Don't be.

I thank you for staying with me.

I'm not going to let them take you.

I will protect you.

For you must be allowed to have your own life.

You will be the queen, they never let me be.

When I think back ___ years ago in ___, I realize neither of us had an easy start in life.

I could barely move my tiny hands, yet politics was already clawing at my unsuspecting soul.

Pay attention, give me your hand.

Hold your dress.

Concentrate, keep your head up, look straight ahead.

Mine was not' a very settled upbringing.

As you must know your father was so determined I should marry his sickly son he sent troops to ransack my country.

Many ___ lost their lives in my rough wooing as an infant queen.

When I was being carted from one stronghold to another, sometimes I couldn't tell whether what I was seeing was real or a nightmare.

Farewell, my child, and may God grant you safe passage to a more peaceful land.

They will protect you.

You are feverish again.

That's good, my dear, the fever will take away your fear!

The only way my mother could protect me was to dispatch me overseas.

Overnight' my destiny changed.

Packed off like precious merchandise to spend a lifetime with another mysterious bridegroom.

It's lucky for you I took that' boat'.

If I'd have stayed, you wouldn't be sitting on the ___ throne today.

What is your name?

But which one is the Queen?

I can kill just by moving my finger.

Come back.

Come and look!

She is dead.

She is Queen now...

l am the Queen.

That's impossible.

You should have said so right away.

And there you will stay.

Why do you laugh?

I thought we were cousins.

I will reply to her immediately.

We will be the best sisters in the world.

I shall send her my portrait.

Better yet, let me go and meet her in person.

We understand each other, she and I.

We are like twins.

You cannot address her as Queen.

That woman is a bastard.

Have you forgotten what the ___ have done to your country?

They burned and destroyed it.

It is frightful to think that I was the cause of a war.

Do not succumb to your womanly instincts and kindness, do not let them cloud your reason.

There can be no dialogue with that... that pretender to the Throne.

When she dies, you shall be the ___ Queen.

Why should she die?

You and you alone can restore the true faith in that blasphemous land.

Carrying three crowns is a grave responsibility, but impossible as long as that illegitimate heretic is alive.

She has to go.

I will not crush her, I will win her over.

A delightful conundrum.

But not everyone here approves of me consorting with a foreign power.

I have been advised that my claim for the ___ crown is based on legitimate descent.

Accordingly, I am having the ___ coat of arms added to my royal portraits.

You need not' fear for your person.

I have no wish to disturb you.

But if you do ever respond to me, you should address me as Queen of ___, ___ and ___.

What an enchanting voice.

You are charming.

You make me tremble.

Come up and join us.

That hurts.

Tomorrow I will join the hunt.

Isn't it a little too early?

I feel strong again.

For the first time this year, I will lead the hunt.

I am confident that I still have a life to discover.

You of all people will appreciate that once born a queen, one must be a master of one 's own destiny.

If I can no longer be Queen of ___, I am still and will remain Queen of ___.

Let us sing our song.

It's so cold here and my subjects seem to hate their Queen.

That is because your subjects don't know their Queen yet and the Queen has to get used to sharper blades.

How does my cousin do it?

You cannot simply behead everyone who contradicts you!

I could throw ___ into the dungeons, but that would merely make matters worse.

Tolerance can easily be misinterpreted, Your Majesty.

At least you're beautiful.

She is really ugly, they say.

Even if they do write erotic sonnets about her...

No wonder! She has no husband, but countless lovers!

And she's seven inches shorter than you are.

And look at my bump.

Mine is worse.

Come closer.

My heart and my pride have just been stabbed by this rabble-rouser.

I'm frightened, dear cousin.

Why do men of god seem so afraid of women?

___ and ___ living in peace, guided by the example of our sisterly unify.

Oh, I wish I'd seen her face to face.

Believe me, she is as curious about you as you are about her.

Does she really bathe in warm milk?

Is it true she has bad breath?

They say she beats her lovers.

Off you go, ladies, we wish to discuss political matters.

I promise to divulge more gossip later.

Could you perhaps suggest the prospect of a meeting between the two Queens?

She extends to you any help you may need in making preparations for a future match.

I wonder who she will recommend to be my husband.

What of her empty matrimonial bed, your Majesty?

At least, you know what it's like to be married.

I'm delighted to hear you are interested in the possibility of me marrying again.

I 'm rather excited at the prospect of receiving a queue of young suitors.

Alas, I seem to lack the good fortune to meet any man capable of stirring my blood or touching my heart.

Have I not the right to choose whoever I want.

I, too, shall be free, free to stand by my own choices.

I must confess I'm not completely satisfied with my new husband.

I'm worried about his extreme views.

Likewise I hope I can count on you to disarm my treacherous lords and stifle their fanatical plots against me.

The heir to both of our kingdoms is growing safely within me.

Above all, it will heal this country's wounds.

Mama will do everything.

l am a prisoner now.

The child of this traitor is growing within me

and I do not know how to bring it to safety.

How will I know when I'm really in labour?

How can I possibly maintain a pose as serene and confident as you, when inside I feel like screaming?

You cannot know what it feels like to be a mother surrounded by vipers.

Maybe you are right' never to marry.

You can be absolutely certain that the future King will be in good hands.

In my end will be my beginning.

I have a healthy son and a secure future.

I'm besieged by a new force that I do not know how to meet.

Should I surrender or should I resist?

Can I count on my ancestors?

I have found something I never dared hope for.

I know everyone will turn against me and condemn me.

Don't call it sin.

It is true I conceived a child with my husband.

I've always had to make my own decisions and act on my own instincts.

I've been waiting all my life for a man like you.

For him I have risked dignity and conscience, for his sake I have come to regard my friends as less than nothing. For his sake I would fain

renounce the world, I would gladly die that he might rise.

It pleases me to see my husband suffer.

His very being has repelled me for so long now. But how can a wife get rid of a husband?

Careful - the people want to punish you for what you've done.

Some deeds are done by doing nothing.

I'm pregnant.

I know you must resent my sudden marriage, but surely you will appreciate that a pregnant queen must be married to the father of her child.

You cannot imagine the anger and desperation I feel to have my new husband blamed for the murder of my previous one, but I can declare that we are innocent a hundred times and there will still be slanderous voices condemning us.

To fight them would be madness, Your Majesty.

I have no wish to fight them.

They must submit to the Royal Lion and there will be peace again in ___.

There will be no single combat, no negotiations, only surrender.

You must send him away. You have no other option.

I lose count of the springs and the winters.

Has she killed me already?

I am actually more alive than she is.

She can do it! She can chop off the crown.

But she is the crowned sovereign now, and I am just a poor woman, without a crown, a country.

I can't bear it any longer I wish she would kill me.

Two great Queens, caught in a deadly stalemate. In an endless purgatory.

No way out, until one of you fades away.

This could go on forever.

Please don't leave me alone!

Don't hesitate to do what has to be done.

I would only be too pleased to get out of this bed and face your headsman.

And when that secret moment finally comes, will you then have the courage to face me?

With or without you by my side, I long for a new, for the chance to return to my beginning.

Oh, my dear ___, I would be deeply grateful for a sharp ace.

[crackcrocs]

DEATH WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING #2

2.Disconnected/ Dissociation/ Depersonalisation / Darkness

Most days I'm not sure that I would choose to look after me... I would like to give up and scream.

consistent healing with mental health is the most frustrating thing. like how do you justify yourself to the people getting annoyed at you for your tics when you barely even know what a tic is and why you’re doing what you’re doing? people never believe your explanations, or it would take them studying you to see the reality of the depth of suffering, why I’m doing these annoying things and it is hard to explain. I can’t say that I can’t control it because that’s not completely true- it’s not like a muscle spasm completely out of control, its more of an impulse a bit like OCD behaviour. My brain follows mental patterns n finds it difficult to not get out of the cycle. its like scratching at a mosquito bite where yeah technically you can just not scratch it but it feels agonising not to and takes all your concentration not to do.

I’ve been more uncomfortable with the idea of being a person lately. i can’t conceptualise time so I get this feeling sometimes where its like , I hate the fact that I’m a person and I exist and it usually makes me super confused & I go into a misty state of mind where everything feels like it’s piling up leaving me anxious n too deep & I just feel too disconnected from everything. I feel lost when I look at my limbs; they grow heavier.

I personally try to spend as little time looking in the mirror as possible because it can be a big trigger for my dissociation. but taking pictures of my day/ what I’ve eaten helps me remember i have been present in the long run. This is why I have a complex relationship with social media, sometimes when I go on it I get depressed even though I want to be active. I cope by only looking in the mirror with other people there or when I have a specific reason to. It’s like I know my soul but my physical form confuses me.

I don’t even tell my friends I’m dissociating any more cause it’s just,, a given. I feel really embarrassingly bad. It’s one of the few things with my mental health that I try and minimise and hide from my friends- but I end up hiding myself as a whole, when my soul wants to be present but my body doesn’t know how to comply. I’m really sorry people have to deal with that, it’s so scary to be disconnected.

it’s annoying to have sucky mental health cos even when I want to get help I get embarrassed & feel ashamed that my brain is the way it is. I feel like a burden, or I don’t care enough about myself to believe I deserve help & to be healthy & mentally okay. I often realise the depth of self hate & my brain tells me I’d be better off dead. 

I feel forced to engage in ‘the caste system of life’ . As humans were just expected to ‘keep calm and carry on’ but I’m genuinely tired. I can’t grasp that I ever used to work 2 jobs in a day at one point, I can’t grasp how. I feel an immense amount of distress about having to work in these times too, it’s like finally my mental is free to roam to whichever corner it deserves to feel peace without having to mask at all times, finally I get some extra time to organise my journals and paint & we’re actually still being made to feel obligated to go about our days as if everything is normal, while being tuned into a fear frequency. I feel like so many things are obfuscated with absolute lies & it’s hard to go on just because you have to but not cos you actually desire it.

I’m a great worker & communicator when I do have the energy, but I don’t have any dream job because I don’t dream to slave away to a capitalist system that perpetuates all kind of nonsense, i dream to dismantle it. Which I know I can’t do, so then I feel powerless, insignificant & small. for now I just can’t be arsed doing anything. maybe deep down I still have hope.

I’ve become more pessimistic that optimistic,I receive these death threats from my brain too In really dumb moments, & I’m like oh my gosh we have to just keep washing dishes & putting them away & putting more food in them & doing this over & over until we die. 

I am someone that needs people but I have these silly built in coping mechanism. it’s like this character in my brain needs to hop to the recharge centre,it often wants to hide in my mental cavern of preservation because it feels like it’s disconnected from everything else. like how is everyone holding up jobs or education ? how will I be able to have all these good times & spoil my family & friends like I want to, if I can’t hold up a job ? why can’t my head not be such a bloody mess & why can’t I seem to conform to normality ??? My brain starts asking the questions, my brain starts caving away. 

Even a long time ago my brain stopped planning for a future past 30 because of my individual situation & traumas, and mainly because the world is a horrible illusion once you grow & realise how truly powerless & insignificant it makes you feel. dissociation turns my memories into flat, unconvincing shadows.

thankfully I haven’t gave up & I’m still here with a bit more of a desire to go on- but only because of the inspiring creative loving caring people that surround me. over the years I’ve come across marvellous souls & I have the most beautiful family I could ever ask for. i would never want to seem ungrateful. I know the whole saying of ‘silence speaks volumes’ but as someone who’s always felt like they need to explain themselves for their entire life, I’ve learned that sometimes silence is necessary, to be able to fully be yourself & uplift the people in your life, you need to learn how to be comfortable & confident with your own self. I’m washing away my Shame and painting my shell shiny y’all!!!! Soon come you’ll see the armour I’ve been working on in the flesh.

My silences are not done in a sense of ‘I need to work on me only & FIRST, THEN I can worry about you’ but a ‘I’ve never put myself first & ALSO need to worry about me the way I worry about you I want all of us to eat together, I just don’t wanna be that friend that feels like they’re holding people back from doing things because I’m on pause. and of course there’s the fact that compromise is necessary to make friendships work, I want to make time & be present. 

I don’t feel obligated(I genuinely do want to be there) but in my head for things to run smoothly for everyone’s sake there needs to be consistency(I don’t wanna lose the people I love & want to grow with them) but someone said to me consistency is just obligation sprinkled. and sometimes it just be like that, I hate how all my messages start with ‘so sorry for these late replies’ I hate it. the people pleaser always feels the need to explain but i feel bad because I feel like I’ve let them down already & that I didn’t intend or want to ignore them I just have a terrible relationship with my phone,social media & I’m one of the worst communicators I know, even though In person & in a comfortable atmosphere-I’m someone who can speak for the whole of both Scotland and Tanzania. I have a very all or nothing type brain.

most time I’m restless too and its like..i get hyper aware of all my surroundings and its really scary and emotional for a little bit but then i just start dissociating hella and it sucks ,, it’s become a normal state of mind or thing my brain does to sort of reject humanity and stuff & when I do ‘zone out’ there has to be a sense of awareness in my brain, I care a lot & I’m aware that those on the other side will feel left the dark from the other end.

I just get embarrassed n I don’t wanna ‘be the fuck up’ even though my brain actively just keeps doing it. I’m not even exaggerating sometimes the anxiety builds up because some eedyat from my past that I wanted to avoid messages me. or because I can’t reply to all my people at once. (I have people & connects from Tanzania, Turkey & Scotland) so my messages will pile up & then I don’t know how to start the replies & then I freak out & feel like a failed shitty friend, I also don’t wanna be selective because I WANT to speak & hear from everyone I do maintain contact with, but then my brain dissociates.

sexual abuse, physical & narcissistic abuse sucks. It doesn’t control me - but it’s shaped a part of my brain. for the time’s I’ve had to ‘cope’ & go to work as if everything is okay, further masking. the times as a kid I felt like I’d get punishment or a beating for answering back or doing something or being disobedient or ‘wrong’, it fuelled my ability at being able to mask more. I could lie for as long as I could so remember thanks to pedo paul- he also distorted & lured me into feeling easy & comfortable in highly alarming uncomfortable scenarios no child should ever have to experience.

being myself fully, feeling comfortable to be myself & explain my brain has never been easy.

another example that also made me be able to mask, is growing up in a ‘perfect’ looking family with much more dysfunction than I realised the older I aged. there isn’t necessarily a lack of connection in my family-we have a lot of love & togetherness, we know how to be a team. we’re a fast & fierce intelligent,compassionate bunch & I’m thankful enough to have 2 very understanding parents that will listen..I could’ve spoken to them about certain things earlier, I wish I did but I can’t go back. I forgive & hope they forgive me for there were still years where I felt judged, or like I’d be disowned.

I think it’s invalidating for parents to write off the so called ‘teen phase’ phase as the result of hormones and irrational teenage anger.

We now have more of a relationship yet there’s still that disconnect or connect only when I’m communicating with one of them at a time (depending on the subject matter/ setting).i can still chill with them both but sometimes chat feels forced. they have given me the reassurance that I’ll never be judged with what I share. Though at one point I felt (or in my head) like the downer child, they did project feelings of shame which I think stemmed from a ‘place of concern’ - and that was due to a lack of familial friendship. Both my parents were made to be parents & did a damn good job at raising us because despite the flaws. we remain tough, empathetic, polite,sensible, witty, charming, fun, respectable & decent which are all qualities from both of their seed.

I think they both deserved different loves or a more open one. because you see it sometimes felt they could’ve put their parent badge aside and talk to me like a friend, I’m not sure if all my siblings felt the same but I did. I’m also thankful for all the lessons & can’t discount my parents parenting, they are great. I’m not saying they failed, I just think that if you want your child to communicate with you, there needs to be a sense of comfort ability for them to be able to open up. If you force them to speak while you’ve ingrained fear, you end up pushing them further away. I guess to an extent the whole ‘ingrain’ fear into your child so they can respect you does work, but this creates sneakier children too- finding ways to get away with things because they’re worried you’ll get them in trouble for doing so. so if the communication lessens as the child grows, it’s because they didn’t feel understood, despite being listened to. Anyways I love my family still, I’m just an over thinker & sometimes I feel like there’s a lack of soul level conversation & genuine laughter. there’s grudges held but not expressed so then the atmosphere of the household begins to feel stuffy. whether or not everyone realises it, whether it’s because different personality types clash in the house, a bunch of reasons perhaps. But yeah in terms of dissociating & tying masking into it, it would happen whenever I felt in danger or like someone would think i was not good enough and hurt me. 

sometimes I can be dry & just wanna listen to my peoples. but I feel like I always need to talk because of my people pleaser brain that also feels the need to fill in silences or feels rude when it doesn’t respond but the reality is sometimes my brain doesn’t allow me to be able to be consistent with social media, messaging, calls etc- I have a disconnect from social media even tho part of me loves the concept so much & the communication aspect is such a bonus (especially with international friends & family£ in turn my life feels like a dramatic podcast. for a while now there’s been more a mentally tired feeling that reigns over my brain, it all just gets a bit blurry so I have this habit of ‘checking out’ when I feel like I’m under stress & there’s a chance of more overloaded- it sort of makes my brain disengage even more. for some people reality checks help, for others they make things worse. personally when I don’t feel good enough I start convincing myself I already failed & that I’m not worthy of my family n friends & all that yap, the brain mould grows!! whenever stress arises or my awkward brain starts conspiring against itself- the zone out will begin.

I don't even realise the weight of my words, how serious and ugly it is. I am floating around. for years. I don't remember what feeling real is like. I feel like everything is fake and even though I matter I’m unimportant until I wear my skin of confidence & the that life is a game. I want to be able to feel like a normal person and believe myself, to believe that life isn’t a dream. I can't. I am just floating all the time. I just want to feel real for once and not so fake.

I do use listening to music or a podcast as a coping strategy so i have something engaging for my brain to focus on. music grounds me when de realisation gets really bad. but then there’s always knowing that more and more is just piling up. It’s like an outer body experience where you’re watching your lifeless body turn blue & there’s a timer with spilling sand but you’re frozen.

I feel this pattern from childhood of escapism is gash coming into adulthood, feeling everything so intensely can genuinely get overwhelming my heart feels like a racing car. I’m keen & determined though. I’m hopefully going to learn more about the brain, human impulses, how we think, because learning about humans helps me understand why I do things more, and that sort of seems to help. I wanna be strong enough for the people I love, I want to support them in tough times too I just don’t always have conversations- I’m sorry. being half there isn’t nice,neither fun.

I also keep thinking there’s some bigger /thing/ Reason for the universe, maybe waiting for the aliens or government to blow us up with the push of a button lol. I spend more time thinking about the afterlife but don’t do enough in my present one. most days I feel like life is a game boy. Is there a reason why everyone does what they do etc? Is society too dead to mend ? Remembering that it’s just the laws of the universe (human instinct, physics) controlling everything can help me. The master key system helps. Vsauce Thoughty2, Dr Phil Valentine and Brother Panic, Infinite waters,studying, art, music & generally scrolling through youtube helps lol. but I really wonder does anyone else feel like they are interacting with the world but their head is wrapped in plastic, so they can see and hear but are still totally but imperceptibly separated from the world, so they just can’t quite..connect? 

[tomeandflickcorner]

Umbrella Academy Recap 2x07

1x01 1x02 1x03 1x04 1x05 1x06 1x07 1x08 1x09 1x10

2x01 2x02 2x03 2x04 2x05 2x06

Well, last time, it was one step forward and two steps back for the Hargreeves Siblings.  Not only did they make contact with 1963 Reginald, who proved to be no help to them (no surprises there), but there were setbacks even for the individual subplots.  Ray now knows about Allison’s powers, but he’s still leery because he knows that he wouldn’t know it if Allison had used her powers on him.  Klaus was able to have a private conversation with Past Dave, only to find that his efforts of keeping him from being killed in the upcoming Vietnam War may have backfired as they resulted in Dave’s uncle forcing him to enlist ahead of schedule.  And while Vanya managed to convince Sissy to agree to run away together, Sissy’s husband, Carl, was spying on them and now knows they’re in love.  Oh, and poor Elliot was brutally tortured and killed by the Swedes, who are looking for Diego, whom they believe was directly responsible for the death of their brother.  And Number 5 made a deal with The Handler, which involved him agreeing to kill The Commission’s board of directors to ensure The Handler could take charge in exchange for the chance for him and his siblings to return to their own time, with both apocalypses being permanently removed from the timeline.  Yeah, a lot happened last episode.

Episode 7 begins with Number 5 traveling to Oshkosh, Wisconsin in 1982, which is the time and location of the board of directors meeting.  The meeting is taking place at some lodge, under the guise of the Midwest Soybean Society.  After getting directions to the correct ballroom from a lady at the reception desk, Number 5 has a hilarious ordeal with a faulty vending machine.  One that I’m sure anyone who has had their desired snack fail to dispense correctly can relate to.  In frustration, Number 5 smashes the vending machine’s glass covering.  However, he then choses to simply walk away from the damage.  Not sure why he didn’t just take the fudge nutter bar he was so determined to get, but maybe he felt it best to get away from the scene of the crime.  Number 5 then proceeds to the indicated ballroom, where the board of directors meeting is already underway, with AJ, the talking goldfish we last saw in 2x02, sitting at the head of the table.  Number 5 barges into the room, wielding a fire axe and proceeds to kill everyone in the room.  Rather gruesomely, I might add.  Yes, we don’t actually see any of the killing blows, but we do see one guy lying on the ground with his intestines hanging out.  Before long, everyone in the room is dead, apart from Number 5 and AJ.  AJ seems to realize The Handler put him up to this and tries to bargain with Number 5 to no avail.  But right before Number 5 could begin to attack AJ, the lady from the lodge’s reception desk appears out of nowhere, tackling Number 5.  She’s angry about the damage to the vending machine and intends to make him pay for it.  Which is fine and good, but still slightly confusing.  I mean, she does notice the multiple dead bodies lying around the room, right?  One would think dead bodies would outweigh a broken vending machine.  Anyway, Number 5 manages to knock her out.  But AJ took advantage of the distraction to try and make his getaway.  Of course, Number 5 manages to overtake him with his teleporting ability and smashes AJ’s glass jar head, which results in AJ flopping around on the floor.

Number 5 later meets up with The Handler, presenting her with AJ, who is now confined in a plastic baggie filled with water.  The Handler is visibly pleased to see AJ in this state.  However, Number 5 doesn’t share her excitement, stating he is not okay with the murders he’d committed, and he only went through with them for his family, and to save the world.  The Handler pretty much dismisses his misgivings over the deaths he’d caused and hands him a time traveling briefcase that will bring him and the other Hargreeves Siblings back to 2019.  However, as she turns to walk off, she tells Number 5 that he only has 90 minutes to use the time traveling briefcase.  Number 5 is aghast by this, as The Handler never mentioned there’d be a time limit.  And it will be quite difficult for him to successfully round up all the Hargreeves Siblings in only an hour and a half.  The Handler is not bothered by this, telling Number 5 that he’d better hurry.

We then cut to Klaus and Ben.  Klaus, knowing that Ben is wanting to possess his body again, is doing his best to prevent that by staying awake.  Ben points out that Klaus cannot possibly stay awake forever.  Sooner or later, he’s going to drift off, whether he likes it or not.  And I couldn’t help but giggle during this scene.  Every time Klaus’ eyelids drooped, when he opened his eyes again, Ben would be a little bit closer.  Something about this made me remember the Weeping Angels from Doctor Who.  Klaus begs Ben to give him a break, as he’s still upset over not being able to do anything to prevent Dave’s death, and he hates feeling this powerless.  To this, Ben retorts that he deals with that feeling every single day, and he hates having to watch Klaus make the same mistakes over and over again.  Upon hearing this, Klaus is reasonably remorseful towards his brother.  But not enough to allow Ben to possess him again.  He asks Ben why he’s so determined to take control of his body.  Ben explains that he wants to be able to actually speak with Jill, the young woman he fancies.  Upon hearing Ben’s reasons, Klaus finally relents and agrees to let Ben into the driver’s seat for a bit.  But only as long as Ben agrees to obey some ground rules.  For instance, no cutting Klaus’ hair and avoiding any dairy products.  (Guess Klaus is lactose intolerant?) Ben agrees to this, and so Klaus allows him to posses him.  Klaus-Ben then proceeds to relish in the ability to actually interact with the world around him.  Such as eating an orange and feeling dirt under his feet.  Finally, he is able to actually talk with and spend time with Jill.

Over at the farmhouse, Sissy and Vanya are biding their time, trying to make things appear normal so Carl doesn’t suspect their plans to run off together.  Of course, they don’t realize Carl already knows about them, so the scene has a tense overtone to it.  Sissy announces that she plans to take Harlan in for a checkup and asks Vanya if she’d like to come along.  Vanya agrees, suggesting that they swing by the park afterwards.  Clearly, this was their cover story to give them a chance to get a head start before Carl noticed they were missing.  However, Carl disrupts the plan, stating he wants Vanya to give him a ride over to Jim Garvey’s ranch.  Sissy tries to ague her case, stating Harlan likes it when Vanya goes along for his checkups, and her presence helps keep him calm, but Carl is insistent that Vanya goes with him.  Vanya assures Sissy that she’s okay with going with Carl to the ranch, nonverbally telling her that she’s fine with waiting a bit longer.  However, upon arriving at the ranch, Carl reveals to Vanya that he knows about her relationship with Sissy, stating that he will not allow such ‘unnaturalness’ to go on under his roof.  Vanya tells Carl that she’s not afraid of him.  In response to this, Carl threatens to send Harlan away to a facility “better equipped to handle his type.” Unless Vanya agrees to go away.  Vanya, out of a desire to protect Harlan and ensure Sissy won’t loose her son, agrees to leave the farmhouse.  Satisfied, Carl tells Vanya that he expects her to be gone by the time he returns home.

At the Chestnut household, Ray has received word that President Kennedy’s people reached out to their Civil Rights group.  It turns out their protest has gained their attention and they want to sit down and discuss things.  Allison voices her happiness over how things are looking up for Ray and his efforts, but says she’d prefer to sit this one out, stating that she doesn’t feel well.  You get the feeling that something is upsetting her, but she does her best to keep it to herself.  In the end, Ray heads off alone, promising to bring back some soup for her.  As he walks out, Allison tells him that she loves him, but Ray only responds with a smile.  Ray’s failure to say he loves her in return doesn’t improve Allison’s mood.

At Elliot’s apartment, Diego and Luther are gathered around Elliot’s body.  They agree that Elliot deserved better than this.  Diego wonders if the feds were responsible for Elliot’s death, but Luther points out that if the feds were involved, they would have taken Elliot away to question him.  Their attention is then drawn to the message the Swedes left behind, Oga for Oga.  Thinking that Oga is a person, Luther turns to the phone book to look her up, finding a listing for an Olga Foroga.  They proceed to call her up, and Diego threatens her.  But then Number 5 arrives on the scene and informs them that the message Oga for Oga isn’t a name, but a Swedish phrase that translates to ‘an eye for an eye.’  Therefore, it was the Swedes that killed Elliot.  Luther and Diego sheepishly claim they would have realized that eventually.  They then notice that Number 5 is still covered in blood, and Luther demands to know what Number 5 did.  It’s not clear if Number 5 told his brothers about what he had to do, but he does tell them he managed to make a deal to ensure they can all return to their own time, with both doomsdays being prevented.  They just have to find the others first.  Luther is tasked with fetching Allison, Diego is sent to find Klaus and Number 5 volunteers to get Vanya.  The three brothers then part ways, with Number 5 stating they’ll meet up at the alleyway where they first arrived in exactly 77 minutes.  Before they part, Diego questions what they’ll do about 1963 Reginald and President Kennedy.  In response, Number 5 reminds him that Elliot was killed because of them, and they are absolutely taking this chance to go home, before anything else happens.  Diego relents, but states he wants to say goodbye to Lila first.  In frustration, Number 5 informs Diego that Lila works for The Commission and was simply using Diego the whole time.  Diego is visibly upset, but makes it clear that he refuses to believe that Lila was using him.

At The Commission Headquarters, The Handler holds an emergency meeting.  She informs everyone that the entire board of directors were assassinated, and a full investigation is underway.  She goes on to say that she will be taking over as the head of The Commission, and the briefcase room will be temporarily closed as a safety precaution.  We see Lila is standing amongst the crowd, but she gives no indication how she feels about her adoptive mother taking control of The Commission.  After the emegency meeting, The Handler retreats to her new office and dumps AJ into a fish bowl.  She then proceeds to gloat a bit.  Lila, who is sitting nearby, asks if she really has to be there.  She’s clearly not sharing The Handler’s feeling of triumph over the successful coup. To try and get rid of Lila’s ‘bad attitude,’ The Handler gives her a badge that names her head of security.  Lila accepts the position, on the condition that she’s allowed to do things her own way.  The Handler agrees to this, stating Lila has earned this.

Luther approaches Allison, who is just coming back from the market.  He tells her that Number 5 found a way for them to return home.  Allison is stunned by the news, but is heartened by the notion that she might be able to see Claire again.  (Oh, good, she does remember her daughter.)  Of course, Luther admits he’s not sure what sort of world they’ll come back to.  Allison announces that she can’t handle losing people anymore.  She has doubts that Number 5 will get it right this time.  If he doesn’t, she might have to lose her brothers and sister all over again, and she can’t go through that again.  Luther does his best to console her, acknowledging that she’s right in saying it’s not fair that they can’t live normal lives.  However, he reminds her that they don’t belong in 1963, and they need to go back home.  At that moment, Ray returns home.  So Allison has to quickly fill Ray in, stating she and her siblings are going to have to return to 2019 that very day.  Ray is upset when he learns Allison will have to leave in 33 minutes, asking if there’s another way.  He clearly isn’t ready to say goodbye to her.  A tearful Allison asks Ray if he would go with her if she’d asked.  Ray ultimately decides he can’t leave the Civil Rights movement behind.  Even though Allison admits the fight is still going on in 2019, Ray knows his part of the fight is in 1963.  Which means that they have no choice than to part ways.  And they’re both grieving the fact that this is goodbye.  Allison offers to use her powers on Ray, to spare him from feeling sorrow over Allison’s imminent departure from his life.  Ray turns down the offer, stating he doesn’t want to forget Allison or the time they spent together.  And that he’d pick the year he spent with Allison over a lifetime with anyone else. They then kiss one last time.  But the moment is ruined when the Swedes show up at the door, posing as vacuum salesmen.  They quickly punch Allison in the throat, momentarily making her lose her voice so she can’t use her powers on them.  With Allison defenseless, they proceed to attack both her and Ray.  (And props to Ray, as he does put up a good fight.)  After a struggle, Allison manages to incapacitate the Swede attacking her by piercing his eye with a vaccuum attachment.  She then directs her attention on the Swede fighting with Ray and uses her powers on him, instructing him to kill his brother.  So the mind-controlled Swede turns on the other one.  When the deed is done, the last remaining Swede runs off, horrified over what he’d just done.

Meanwhile, Klaus-Ben is still spending time with Jill.  But things get complicated when Jill voices a desire to have sex.  Obviously, this is an issue, as Jill doesn’t realize that she’s actually talking to Ben and not Klaus.  So there’s an obvious dubious consent issue here.  Fortunately, Diego arrives to collect Klaus before anything could happen.  As Diego escorts Klaus-Ben away, Klaus-Ben reveals that he is actually Ben.  At first, Diego doesn’t believe him, thinking Klaus is simply high again.  Klaus-Ben offers to prove it, telling Diego to ask him something only Ben would know.  Deciding to play along, Diego asks Klaus-Ben what they reprogramed Allison’s Teddy Ruxpin to say when they were little.  (Wait, Allison had a Teddy Ruxpin?  Considering what Reginald was like, I wouldn’t think the Hargreeves Siblings were allowed to have toys.)  In response, Klaus-Ben responds with ‘Luther sniffs Dad’s underwear.’  This is enough to convince Diego that he really is talking to Ben.  And he has an emotional reaction to the knowledge that he’s speaking to his long-dead brother again.   Diego tells Ben to remain in Klaus’ body for a bit longer, as they need someone responsible in the driver’s seat for a while.  But Klaus-Ben asks if he can have ten more minutes before they leave to meet up with the others.  He obviously wants to see Jill one last time.  Diego, after a brief hesitation, states that there’s something he needs to do as well.  So he instructs Klaus-Ben to meet him in the alleyway in half an hour.  With that, Diego leaves.  But as soon as he does so, Ben starts to lose his control of Klaus’ body.  So Klaus-Ben has to hurry away to make it to the alleyway before Klaus can fully regain control.  As Klaus-Ben leaves the mansion, he is briefly held up by Keechie, who Klaus-Ben instructs to take over leadership of the cult.

Elsewhere, Vanya is driving back to the famhouse to pack her things and leave Sissy and Harlan behind, as Carl instructed.  And she is visibly upset over the situation.  En route to her destination, she passes by Number 5 on the road.  They both get out of their cars to talk.  Number 5 announces he was looking for her, stating that he found a way for them to return home and they only have half an hour to take it.  Vanya, however, hesitates, stating she can’t just leave her friends.  She insists on bringing them with her.  Number 5 tells her that’s not possible, as Vanya’s friends belong in this timeline, so they must stay where they are.  But Vanya is adamant, passionately stating that Sissy deserves better than being forced to pretend to be someone she’s not.  And Harlan can receive better, more understanding care in 2019 than he could get in the 1960s.  She goes on to say that a mother and her 8-year-old can hardly mess up the timeline, as they’re insignificant in the grand scheme of things.  Number 5 disagrees, stating nobody is insignificant.  He voices his sympathy to Vanya’s plight, but insists they cannot take the risk of bringing Sissy and Harlan with them.  This results in a real confrontation to occur between the two.  Vanya challenges Number 5, asking why he should be allowed to decide.  To this, Number 5 announces that if it wasn’t for him, they’d all be dead now, thanks to Vanya.  In seconds, Vanya and Number 5 are both staring each other down, with both of them activating their powers.  But this doesn’t really go anywhere, as Vanya backs down.  But she still asks Number 5 to allow her the time to say goodbye to Sissy, stating that if he won’t grant her that much then she simply won’t go back with them at all.  Without another world, Vanya turns to walk off, and Number 5 reluctantly agrees to Vanya’s terms, telling her to show up at the designated alley, and to not be late.

Still, when Vanya gets to the farmhouse, Sissy and Harlan are just coming back from the doctor’s office.  Despite what she’d told Number 5, Vanya is still planning on bringing them along.  Vanya tells Sissy that the time for them to leave is now, and they have to leave before Carl gets back.  Sissy is hesitant at first, believing that she owes Carl a final goodbye or something.  After all, he is still her husband.  But Vanya is insistent that she owes Carl nothing, telling her that he knows about them, and that he threated to send Harlan to an institution.  This is enough to convince Sissy to leave with Vanya right away.  But while Vanya escorts Harlan to the car, Sissy ducks back inside to retrieve he secret stash of cash.  However, Sissy then decides, rather foolishly, to leave a note behind for Carl anyway.  So they’re met with a police barricade.  One of the police officers, who Sissy identifies as her brother-in-law, accuses them of kidnapping Harlan.  Vanya ends up fighting back with her powers, which shocks Sissy.  When Vanya looks back at Sissy, as if to gauge her reaction to the revelation that she has powers, she is struck with the handle of a police-issued rifle and is knocked out, much to Sissy’s dismay.

As for Diego, he meets up with Lila while burying Elliot’s body.  Diego confronts Lila over how she’d lied to him over who she really was.  Lila states that everything else she told him was true, and that she only lied about her identity to protect him.  Diego isn’t mollified though.  He asks Lila if she has any idea how hard it is to trust people after spending an entire childhood being manipulated.  He then announces that, once he’s done burring Elliot, he’s going to go home and forget all about her.  Lila, when she realizes Elliot was killed by the Swedes, voices her sorrow over it, stating she liked Elliot and his crazy conspiracy theories.  She and Diego then share a drink in Elliot’s memory.  Only Diego realizes too late that Lila once again tricked him, as there was a sedative mixed into the drink.  Diego quickly loses consciousness.  He comes to later on, inside The Handler’s office, where Lila introduces him to The Handler.  And, to his confusion, Lila identifies Diego as her boyfriend.

The episode ends with Number 5, Luther and Klaus-Ben arriving at the alleyway, with Klaus’ body fully ejecting Ben the moment they arrive.  But because Allison was attacked by the Swedes, Diego was abducted by Lila and Vanya got held up and knocked out by the cops, they all failed to make it to the rendezvous spot in time.  Number 5 vents over how his siblings couldn’t handle the simple task of getting to the alleyway in time.  (Hopefully, he’ll feel bad about that statement when he realizes that Allison, Vanya and Diego weren’t late on purpose.)  When the time traveling briefcase activates, Number 5 is forced to throw it away, resulting in it entering the time vortex without them.  So the Hargeeeves Siblings have lost what might have been their only chance at returning to 2019 and resorting the timeline.

Closing thoughts/questions:

Yeah, I get why Number 5 and Luther were upset over how Allison, Diego and Vanya didn’t make it to the alleyway in time.  But it was still presumptuous of them to conclude that it was due to their own ineptitude or inability to follow directions.  Did it not occur to either of them that something happened to them?  

Come to think of it, why didn’t Luther stick around while Allison said goodbye to Ray?  At the very least, he could have waited outside while she had her final moment with him.  Instead, he up and heads off without her?  Because if he had stuck around, he might have been able to help her fight The Swedes.  And then they could have both made it on time.  (Sure, Diego and Vanya would have still been held up, but still.)

I wonder if Ben will be able to communicate with the other Hargreeves Siblings.  After all, Diego now knows Ben is around and can possess Klaus.  So, if he can get back to the others, he’s sure to tell them about it.

I really hope Sissy and Harlan will be able to get away.  Because they absolutely cannot remain with Carl after this.

My appreciation for Ray just keeps growing.  I feel so bad for him!  Because the love story he had going on with Allison was so beautiful.  It’s made even more lovely with him saying he wouldn’t change a thing about their time together, even though he knows it would never last.  It’s so wonderfully bittersweet!  At least Allison knows what a good, healthy relationship looks like now.

Clearly, Lila does care about Diego.  I wonder if that will be enough for her to turn against The Handler.  I just get the feeling that she’s no longer feeling loyal to her adoptive mother anymore.  So I wonder what she’s got up her sleeve. 

[daresplaining]

What are your thoughts on Ward Meachum in Marvel's Iron Fist? & also... Is he not coming back for The Defenders?

    We were pleasantly surprised by Ward! We mentioned in our analysis/review that there are two Iron Fist characters we’ve always loved to hate, because they are giant screw-ups with little-to-no redeeming qualities. Those characters are Davos and Ward… both of whom were developed to be wonderfully, shockingly sympathetic and compelling in the show. (Davos actually made one of us cry!) We’re not gonna pretend Harold’s “last words” to Ward didn’t make us do this:

    But we still enjoyed– and even sometimes rooted for– this version of his character.

    To address your second question first, before going into more detail: No, Ward has not yet been confirmed to appear in The Defenders. The only Iron Fist characters we currently know we can count on seeing are Danny, Colleen, Jeryn Hogarth, Madame Gao, and almost definitely Bakuto. However, that doesn’t mean he won’t show up. Since the initial round of character announcements went out before Iron Fist aired, they may have decided to not include Ward because some people wouldn’t have known who he was. (Plus, it would have spoiled his survival– which was uncertain, to say the least.) We’re guessing Joy and Davos won’t reappear until Iron Fist Season 2, since they’re away somewhere plotting their revenge… but Ward, as Danny’s business partner, has a chance.      

    (That said, Foggy didn’t show up in Iron Fist despite his new partnership with Jeryn, so it’s not a guarantee. We wonder if the next Defenders trailer will focus on the secondary characters, since there are so many, and the first was so main protagonist-heavy– in which case, we might get a definite answer sometime soon.)

    In the tradition of (almost) all of the Marvel Netflix antagonists, the Iron Fist writing team did their absolute best to add a level of human complexity to Ward, and to build upon the character presented by the source material. In this case, they didn’t have much to work with. Comics Ward is pretty much a one-note villain: Harold Meachum’s scumbag brother who schemes and connives and tries to look cool in front of actual, competent villains, before finally getting himself killed by the Super Skrull.

Ward: “…Now you know he’s dead, and your pretty little reunion plans are all just smoke in the wind. I wouldn’t worry too much though, Misty love. It won’t be long before you and the Rand brat are reunited– at least, if you believe in any sort of afterlife.”

Namor, the Sub-Mariner vol. 1 #18 by John Byrne and Glynis Oliver     

    Really, MCU Ward had nowhere to go but up, and a lot of smart writing decisions went into making this version of the character a bit more nuanced.

    One major factor we think worked really well was the removal of his power– in several different capacities. By de-aging him and generationally shifting him from Harold’s brother and Joy’s uncle to Harold’s son, he loses the inherent sense of authority that comes with older characters, and automatically seems more vulnerable and fallible in the face of anyone older than he is. The show also goes out of its way to emphasize this. In at least one of our trailer analyses, we talked about the costuming and styling choices used to make Danny look youthful, both calling back to his young age (nineteen) in his introductory comics appearances, and visually invoking his naivete upon returning to New York. But both Joy and Ward are also infantilized– not visually in this case, but by their abusively overbearing father, whose inherent power is magnified by his violence, his self-assured manipulation of everyone around him, and the fact that he is literally magically enhanced to be undefeatable. Harold clings to images of his children when they were young, and treats them as such– and Ward’s continued insistence that he is “not a child” only makes him seem more childlike. Harold is not just a parent, he is a Parent– and all of his interactions with Ward emphasize the immense power differential between them.  

    With this lack of power comes a sense of danger– which makes Harold a key secret weapon in the show’s blisteringly awesome pacing and unrelenting narrative tension. By making Harold this powerful and this frightening, you are instantly concerned for the safety of everyone around him. And 90% of the time, the person who’s around him is Ward, who– what’s worse– is sometimes accompanied by people who don’t know that Harold is dangerous. It’s easy to feel sorry for Ward when he is forced to again and again to allow himself and others into the company of someone who could– and given the right whim, would– kill without a second thought.

    Another factor in this powerlessness– and possibly the aspect of MCU Ward that we enjoy the most– is the continual shower of trauma and chaos dumped on him, and the fact that he is emotionally unequipped to handle it. One result of this is that he often serves the role of everyman/audience stand-in, reacting to the strangeness and horror around him with a genuineness that makes him relatable. While Danny lives and breathes strangeness, and both Colleen and Joy are quite resilient and good at adapting, Ward simply cannot deal with it (and he is forced to deal with oh, so much). And that’s a fun character trait (…for us, anyway. Not so much for him).  

    Of course, the darker side of this element of Ward’s character is the isolation it creates for him. Because of the looming Hand threat and his father’s abuse, Ward must handle all of his trauma entirely on his own, all while being forced to present a healthy, sane appearance to the rest of the world. He is unable to either confide in or explain himself to Joy– the one person who really cares about him and who he still has the capacity to care about in return– and he isn’t even allowed to run away and leave it all behind. This is the ultimate manifestation of his powerlessness– his inability to live his own life, or to do anything to escape the horrors constantly being inflicted on him by his father. One of our favorite Ward scenes is in episode 7, when he is forced to dump the bodies of the Hand mooks that Harold has killed and mutilated. It’s a flavor of psychological horror that we were not at all expecting out of Iron Fist– amped up by lingering shots of Ward maneuvering the bodies into his car, and focusing on his desperate struggle to somehow cope with what he’s doing.    

    It’s a scene that emphasizes how utterly, horrifically out of his depth he is, and helps justifies his breakdown and (first) patricide later in the episode.

    However, we’re also grateful that while Ward is a sympathetic character due to all of the pain heaped on him by the narrative, he’s still not a great guy. Making him completely likable would have felt like a cop-out, and we were relieved that they didn’t take that route. Yes, we are given many reasons to understand why he might be a little bit unfriendly and mean in general, but there are still scenes where the viewer genuinely hates him. This tends to come through in his interactions with Danny. While Ward is generally able to keep his anger and frustration inside, with the help of the occasional drug and some… therapeutic embezzling, he is quick to use the newly-returned Danny as a scapegoat and outlet for all of his aggression. Motives aside, this version of Ward maintains a level of nastiness inherent to his character, and his verbal and emotional abuse are extra sources of pain within Danny’s already traumatic story arc.

    For this reason, we have our doubts about the future of the Danny/Ward corporate partnership– because the only time Ward actually seems to give a damn about Danny is when he realizes they need to team up to take down Harold. Danny is eager to make friends and quick to forgive, but Ward is one of those dangerous people who only sees Danny as a means to an end.

    At the same time, this all presents an interesting rearranging of Ward’s status as an antagonist. Whereas in the comics he’s a genuine villain, going after Danny because he’s a jerk who places himself in the service of more powerful jerks, in the show he fits into the most basic definition of an antagonist: someone who happens to be working at cross-purposes with the protagonist. Ward’s main goal isn’t to “get” Danny. We don’t think they ever would have become best friends, and clearly, Ward was a jerk long before his father first died, but circumstances are the main culprit here. He and Danny just happen to bump into each other at a time and place where they will be nothing but detrimental to each other. Danny is an unintentional threat to Ward’s delicately balanced life. His presence disrupts things at Rand, plays with Joy’s head, stirs up trouble with the Hand, and makes Harold extra active and extra crazy– all of which comes back to hit Ward in the face. And thus, while Danny wants nothing more than to find a family, reconnect with people who he thought cared about him, and try to rebuild his life, Ward reacts by rejecting him, treating him like garbage, and repeatedly trying to kill him.  

    This is one factor that we consider to be a weak part of Ward’s characterization. Despite his horror at his father’s homicidal behavior, and his claim in episode 2 that he doesn’t “do that kind of thing”, he literally spends the first two episodes trying to murder Danny– even when Harold tells him not to! This, his snap decision to shove Danny out the window at the end of episode 3, and his two successful attempts to kill Harold, suggest that he’s not quite as squeamish about this sort of thing as he pretends to be… and we wish that had received more development.    

    Overall, though, we think the writing team did a great job with Ward– turning him into a compelling and complex character with a gripping story arc. We loved his relationship with Joy, we appreciated the balance of likable/unlikeable that they managed to strike with him, and we were delighted that in the end, he got the honor of killing Harold once and for all.

    We were not expecting him to survive this season, but since he did, we’re interested to see where he’ll go from here!

[thewebgate]

Coping with Depression

Tips for Overcoming Depression One Step at a Time

Depression drains your energy, hope, and drive, making it difficult to do what you need to feel better. But while overcoming depression isn’t quick or easy, it’s far from impossible. You can’t just will yourself to “snap out of it,” but you do have more control than you realize—even if your depression is severe and stubbornly persistent. The key is to start small and build from there. Feeling better takes time, but you can get there if you make positive choices for yourself each day.

What is the best way to cope with depression?

It’s the Catch-22 of depression: recovering from depression requires action, but taking action when you’re depressed is hard. Draw upon whatever resources you have. You may not have much energy, but you probably have enough to take a short walk around the block or pick up the phone to call a loved one. The tips that follow are based on a comprehensive approach that helps you get support while making lifestyle changes and reversing negative thinking. If you continue to take positive steps day by day, you’ll soon find yourself feeling better.

Tip 1: Reach out and stay connected

When you’re depressed, the tendency is to withdraw and isolate. Even reaching out to close family members and friends can be tough. Compound that with the feelings of shame and the guilt you may feel at neglecting your relationships.

But social support is absolutely essential to depression recovery. Staying connected to other people and the outside world will make a world of difference in your mood and outlook. And if you don’t feel that you have anyone to turn to, it’s never too late to build new friendships and improve your support network.

Ways to reach out

Look for support from people who make you feel safe and cared for. The person you talk to doesn’t have to be able to fix you; he or she just needs to be a good listener—someone who’ll listen attentively and compassionately without being distracted or judging you.

Make face-time a priority. Phone calls, social media, and texting are great ways to stay in touch, but they don’t replace good old-fashioned in-person quality time.  The simple act of talking to someone face to face about how you feel can play a big role in lifting the fog of depression and keeping it away.

Try to keep up with social activities even if you don’t feel like it. Often when you’re depressed, it feels more comfortable to retreat into your shell, but being around other people will make you feel less depressed.

Find ways to support others. It’s nice to receive support, but research shows you get an even bigger mood boost from providing support yourself. So find ways—both big and small—to help others: volunteer, be a listening ear for a friend, do something nice for somebody.

Care for a pet. While nothing can replace the human connection, pets can bring joy and companionship into your lifeand help you feel less isolated. Caring for a pet can also get you outside of yourself and give you a sense of being needed—both powerful antidotes to depression.

10 tips for reaching out and staying connected

Talk to one person about your feelings

Help someone else by volunteering

Have lunch or coffee with a friend

Ask a loved one to check in with you regularly

Accompany someone to the movies, a concert, or a small get-together

Call or email an old friend

Go for a walk with a workout buddy

Schedule a weekly dinner date

Meet new people by taking a class or joining a club

Confide in a clergy member, teacher, or sports coach

Tip 2: Do things that make you feel good

In order to overcome depression, you have to do things that relax and energize you. This includes following a healthy lifestyle, learning how to better manage stress, setting limits on what you’re able to do, and scheduling fun activities into your day.

Do things you enjoy (or used to)

While you can’t force yourself to have fun or experience pleasure, you can push yourself to do things, even when you don’t feel like it. You might be surprised at how much better you feel once you’re out in the world. Even if your depression doesn’t lift immediately, you’ll gradually feel more upbeat and energetic as you make time for fun activities.

Pick up a former hobby or a sport you used to like.

Express yourself creatively through music, art, or writing.

Go out with friends.

Take a day trip to a museum, the mountains, or the ballpark.

Support your health

Aim for eight hours of sleep. Depression typically involves sleep problems; whether you’re sleeping too little or too much, your mood suffers. Get on a better sleep schedule by learning healthy sleep habits.

Expose yourself to a little sunlight every day. Lack of sunlight can make depression worse. Take a short walk outdoors, have your coffee outside, enjoy an al fresco meal, people-watch on a park bench, or sit out in the garden. Aim for at least 15 minutes of sunlight a day to boost your mood. If you live somewhere with little winter sunshine, try using a light therapy box.

Practice relaxation techniques. A daily relaxation practice can help relieve symptoms of depression, reduce stress, and boost feelings of joy and well-being. Try yoga, deep breathing, progressive muscle relaxation, or meditation.

Develop a "wellness toolbox" to deal with depression

Come up with a list of things that you can do for a quick mood boost. The more “tools” for coping with depression, the better. Try and implement a few of these ideas each day, even if you’re feeling good.

Spend some time in nature

List what you like about yourself

Read a good book

Watch a funny movie or TV show

Take a long, hot bath

Take care of a few small tasks

Play with a pet

Talk to friends or family face-to-face

Listen to music

Do something spontaneous

Tip 3: Move vigorously during the day

When you’re depressed, just getting out of bed can seem like a daunting task, let alone working out! But exercise is a powerful depression fighter—and one of the most important tools in your recovery arsenal. Research shows that regular exercise can be as effective as medication for relieving depression symptoms. It also helps prevent relapse once you’re well.

To get the most benefit, aim for at least 30 minutes of exercise per day. This doesn’t have to be all at once—and it’s okay to start small. A 10-minute walk can improve your mood for two hours.

Exercise is something you can do right now to boost your mood

Your fatigue will improve if you stick with it. Starting to exercise can be difficult when you’re depressed and exhausted. But research shows that your energy levels will improve if you keep with it. You will be less fatigued, not more, once it’s part of your routine.

Find exercises that are continuous and rhythmic. The most benefits for depression come from rhythmic exercise—such as walking, weight training, swimming, martial arts, or dancing—where you move both your arms and legs.

Add a mindfulness element, especially if your depression is rooted in unresolved trauma or fed by obsessive, negative thoughts. Focus on how your body feels as you move—such as the sensation of your feet hitting the ground, or the feeling of the wind on your skin, or the rhythm of your breathing.

Tip 4: Eat a healthy, mood-boosting diet

What you eat has a direct impact on the way you feel. Reduce your intake of foods that can adversely affect your brain and mood, such as caffeine, alcohol, trans fats, and foods with high levels of chemical preservatives or hormones (such as certain meats).

Don’t skip meals. Going too long between meals can make you feel irritable and tired, so aim to eat something at least every three to four hours.

Minimize sugar and refined carbs. You may crave sugary snacks, baked goods, or comfort foods such as pasta or French fries, but these “feel-good” foods quickly lead to a crash in mood and energy. Aim to cut out as much of these foods as possible.

Boost your B vitamins. Deficiencies in B vitamins such as folic acid and B-12 can trigger depression. To get more, take a B-complex vitamin supplement or eat more citrus fruit, leafy greens, beans, chicken, and eggs.

Omega-3 fatty acids play an essential role in stabilizing mood

Foods rich in certain omega-3 fats called EPA and DHA can give your mood a big boost. The best sources are fatty fish such as salmon, herring, mackerel, anchovies, sardines, tuna, and some cold-water fish oil supplements. Aim for two servings a week. See: Choosing Healthy Fats

Tip 5: Get a daily dose of sunlight

Sunlight can help boost serotonin levels and improve your mood. Whenever possible, get outside during daylight hours and expose yourself to the sun. Aim for at least 15 minutes of sunlight a day. Remove sunglasses (but never stare directly at the sun) and use sunscreen as needed.

Take a walk on your lunch break, have your coffee outside, enjoy an al fresco meal, or spend time gardening.

Double up on the benefits of sunlight by exercising outside. Try hiking, walking in a local park, or playing golf or tennis with a friend.

Increase the amount of natural light in your home and workplace by opening blinds and drapes and sitting near windows.

If you live somewhere with little winter sunshine, try using a light therapy box.

Dealing with the winter blues

For some people, the reduced daylight hours of winter lead to a form of depression known as seasonal affective disorder (SAD). SAD can make you feel like a completely different person to who you are in the summer: hopeless, sad, tense, or stressed, with no interest in friends or activities you normally love. No matter how hopeless you feel, though, there are plenty of things you can do to keep your mood stable throughout the year. See Seasonal Affective Disorder.

Tip 6: Challenge negative thinking

Do you feel like you’re powerless or weak? That bad things happen and there’s not much you can do about it? That your situation is hopeless? Depression puts a negative spin on everything, including the way you see yourself and your expectations for the future.

When these types of thoughts overwhelm you, it’s important to remind yourself that this is the depression talking. These irrational, pessimistic attitudes—known as cognitive distortions—aren’t realistic. When you really examine them they don’t hold up. But even so, they can be tough to give up. Just telling yourself to “think positive” won’t cut it. Often, they’re part of a lifelong pattern of thinking that’s become so automatic you’re not even completely aware of it.

Negative, unrealistic ways of thinking that fuel depression

All-or-nothing thinking – Looking at things in black-or-white categories, with no middle ground (“If I fall short of perfection, I’m a total failure.”)

Overgeneralization – Generalizing from a single negative experience, expecting it to hold true forever (“I can’t do anything right.”)

The mental filter – Ignoring positive events and focusing on the negative. Noticing the one thing that went wrong, rather than all the things that went right.

Diminishing the positive – Coming up with reasons why positive events don’t count (“She said she had a good time on our date, but I think she was just being nice.”)

Jumping to conclusions – Making negative interpretations without actual evidence. You act like a mind reader (“He must think I’m pathetic”) or a fortune teller (“I’ll be stuck in this dead end job forever.”)

Emotional reasoning – Believing that the way you feel reflects reality (“I feel like such a loser. I really am no good!”)

‘Shoulds’ and ‘should-nots’ – Holding yourself to a strict list of what you should and shouldn’t do, and beating yourself up if you don’t live up to your rules.

Labeling – Labeling yourself based on mistakes and perceived shortcomings (“I’m a failure; an idiot; a loser.”)

Put your thoughts on the witness stand

Once you identify the destructive thoughts patterns that you default to, you can start to challenge them with questions such as:

“What’s the evidence that this thought is true? Not true?”

“What would I tell a friend who had this thought?”

“Is there another way of looking at the situation or an alternate explanation?”

“How might I look at this situation if I didn’t have depression?”

As you cross-examine your negative thoughts, you may be surprised at how quickly they crumble. In the process, you’ll develop a more balanced perspective.

When to get professional help

If you’ve taken self-help steps and made positive lifestyle changes and still find your depression getting worse, seek professional help. Needing additional help doesn’t mean you’re weak. Sometimes the negative thinking in depression can make you feel like you’re a lost cause, but depression can be treated and you can feel better!

Don’t forget about these self-help tips, though. Even if you’re receiving professional help, these tips can be part of your treatment plan, speeding your recovery and preventing depression from returning.

[junker-town]

You can't overthrow an owner like James Dolan, but you can fight (a little)

How to combat your tyrannical sports owner.

James Dolan owns the New York Knicks and there is no telling how long he will own them. Lifelong Knick fans have already done this, but I’d like to tell you what that means in simple math. James Dolan is 61, and unless he sells the Knicks to someone else he will on average live another 23.5 years.

Let’s say this as a worst case scenario: If James Dolan lives as long as he is supposed to live, and doesn’t change much of who he is or what he does, he will own the Knicks until about the year 2040. A Knicks fan reading that probably just got the slack-shouldered, dead-eyed look men get when they receive long prison sentences. Their families in the gallery likely collapsed in each other’s arms, overwhelmed by reality.

If you happen to be a fan of a franchise with a bad owner, looking at a mortality table isn’t morbid. It’s practicing self-care, because some day, maybe before you do, the inept, insanely wealthy person owning your team will die and possibly free you. I repeat: This isn’t being mean, it’s quoting actual sentiments actual Washington fans have asked Dan Snyder through media intermediaries.

Knicks fans aren’t trying to be morbid when they think about these things. They’re simply coping with a world where sports tyranny is real and inescapable.

Until 2040 or so, barring some kind of ownership change, James Dolan will own the Knicks, and the Knicks will be a bad sports team as a result. The Knicks have won one playoff series since 2000 under Dolan's management. The league’s free agents flock to Miami, Los Angeles, and Cleveland over New York. Talent that leaves the Knicks inevitably flourishes once it leaves. Dolan’s reign may be best known for the tenure of Isiah Thomas, who was inexplicably allowed to coach and run a franchise into the ground, all while getting the company sued for sexual harassment. Dolan has somehow made Phil Jackson look mediocre, something Jackson has spent his entire post-playing career avoiding with great success.

Knicks legend Charles Oakley was thrown out of Madison Square Garden last week. When Oakley asked why, he said he was told, “You have to leave because someone ordered you to leave.” Oakley then got into a fight with security, and was thrown out and banned from the building. In response, James Dolan appeared on a local radio station and publicly accused Oakley of being an alcoholic. It got so bad that Michael Jordan and NBA commissioner Adam Silver had to step in to mediate between the two.

This is the owner of the franchise, and a 61-year-old man with every advantage in the world in terms of money, class, privilege, and resources to help him get things right. This is as good at being an owner as James Dolan will ever be.

It is not a unique situation. For years Al Davis kept the Raiders swatting at imaginary flies. Dan Snyder has tried to make Washington a good football team often to the detriment of the team, and with a business model that will one day charge Redskins fans for oxygen. Jed York, Jimmy Haslam, the DeVos family in Orlando ... they all exist, somehow, without dying of shame. Woody Johnson of the New York Jets may not even realize he owns the Jets. It’s the best explanation at this point.

This all leads to the extremely relevant and practical question: How do you survive when your beloved team has been taken over by the country’s least-fireable, least vulnerable, and meritocracy-immune people?

The Clippers eventually got rid of Donald Sterling, yes. That coup took three decades of humiliating franchise performance, public displays of racism towards his players, a TMZ leak, and the entire NBA working together to oust him. Even then, Sterling still got two billion dollars from the sale of the team.

Professional sports owners are too rich to lose. They are wealthy. They will stay that way, because the way American society works in 2017 is to keep the wealthy at a minimum threshold of wealthy while gutting the middle of the country like a fresh deer carcass for profit.

In the case of sports and probably much more, that carcass is you.

There’s no reason to not gouge the owner on your shuffle off this mortal coil, however. As long as you know this isn’t about winning, and as long as you know that you have some options, you can choose a noble death in battle against your overlords. The choices aren’t great. They are choices besides a default kind of serfdom under tyrannical rule.

I am Spartacus. You are Spartacus. We are Spartacus, and Spartacus is definitely not paying $16 for a large beer without some payback.

Disengage completely

It is an option, albeit a grim one. If you decide to abandon your team, know that it will be weird. Other hobbies will have to step up. Other sports may be an option, but know then that waiting around that corner could be another trap. Sure, I’ll just watch EPL soccer, surely their owners must be different! You should not think this, ever.

If you go full deserter, you make a statement. You take money and views and clicks out of the owner’s bucket. Empty seats in an era of television contracts don’t hold the same weight they used to, but they’re still embarrassing. Being one for your team is absolutely free, and requires even less effort than continuing to be a fan without complaint.

There’s also the dollars you don’t spend on jerseys, shirts, memorabilia, concessions, beer — oh man, all that beer money adds up, not just for you, but for owners too. Margins matter, especially if you have the kind of owner who watches the margins like a hawk.

Note: to make this kind of behavior really effective, you actually have to stop supporting the team. This is a note to Washington fans. Yes, it’s harder than you might have imagined, but you have to stop going to the games and buying overpriced gear to make this work. You have to stop, like, one thing you’re doing, and not hand Dan Snyder your money. If you hate the way he manages your team, just stop handing him money. Stop. STOPPPPP.

Make your fandom a protest

The Baghead route. Again, not entirely effective, but if you’ve already bought the ticket, the paper bag mask is ready when you are. Don’t try to bring signs in protesting ownership: they tend to get confiscated. Chanting works, though you may be asked to leave. This may be the team doing you a favor and improving your quality of life, for which you owe them a quiet thank you.

American fans don’t do this a lot in numbers because we’re too disorganized, for the most part.

However, British soccer fans have a long history of doing this at multiple levels of the sport. The results are mixed at best: Manchester United weathered a fan protest against the ownership of the Glazers with ease, while Newcastle fans did sort of prod owner Mike Ashley into spending money on the club’s roster after skimping on transfers for a while. Lower-tier team protests seem to work much better, but still: Owners don’t tend to sell teams because you ask them to, even if you do it en masse wearing color-coordinated t-shirts with anti-ownership slogans on them.

Make their life hell

There is so little you can do to accomplish this, but if you’re fond of tiny victories, then take it.

The choice for pissants determined to take just one chunk out of the dragon’s hide before getting smoked — making the owner’s life one degree more hellish than it is — requires discipline and stamina. You can’t just boo once: you have to boo, and boo, and keep on booing until the joke becomes a running joke becomes a tradition. You have to boo them about your team at the games of other, totally different teams in different sports. You have to boo them on the street and, if necessary, at a urinal at a public restroom next to you.

You have to commit to this. You can’t take anything away from the owner. The owner has more money than you will ever have, most likely. Barring some brave exception, they have built a bubble of highly paid sycophants, suckups, yes-men, consultants bland functionaries, and spineless running buddies. Their children don’t go to your schools, they don’t vacation at the same places, and they don’t do the basic functions of daily living that the rest of us do. You won’t be able to boo them at the grocery store. There is a very good chance they haven’t been to a grocery store in years. They don’t live in the same country you live in, and don’t want to, really.

The only vulnerability someone as wealthy as a sports owner has is vanity. Formally adored by default in every other space in life, it’s important to deny them that. They won’t get it from the media, especially if they’re an NFL owner. (“Mister [owner]” from the NFL universe remains the most toadying, repellent address in sports.)

You have to make them feel like a loser, in other words, because there is nowhere else they will see an exam, a test, or a challenge in their life. This is the only thing you can rob them of after they robbed you of the simple irrational diversion of fanhood. You can take the toy they bought, and turn it into a mewling, complaining chunk of expensive sorrow in their hands, one that might print money, but that will never, ever do it without spitting in their face. You can take any joy they might derive from being the boss out of their hands, and do it as often as possible.

Few communities could carry this off. But if and when the time comes, I believe in you Philadelphia. We all do.

Wait it out

It’s an option. In fact, it’s the option that involves the fewest actual changes in your behavior. Change is hard! And hard things are bad. You could avoid them and simply let the noble rot of time and tide do the work for you.

Waiting has a few natural advantages. Unlike a lot of other things in life where you might feel powerless, disenfranchised, and otherwise steamrolled by forces beyond your control, reality does catch up to bad teams. There is no rhetoric, no weird identity politics, no subverted prejudices wrapped in appeals to emotion capable of erasing basic facts about a team.

You can’t duck wins and losses, or make up records, or scream “fake news!” when your team is 1-15, or loses by 40 points to a half-empty arena every night. The Browns are bad. There is film to prove it — so much film to prove it, actually. Outright lies people will accept in almost every other area of their life, they will reject in sports.

Because dude: I don’t care what you said, we lost to Georgia Southern at home. AT HOME.

Sometimes the badness becomes so obvious that even ownership takes notice, though that’s not a guaranteed outcome. There are free riders out there, owners content to skim off TV contracts while making the bare minimum effort to contribute. Even worse, there are a lot of owners out there who bought a team with their money like you might buy new exercise equipment: first as an enthusiastic lark, and later as a thing that gathers dust in the corner while slowly rusting.

This can and does go on for decades, but let’s be cynically optimistic for a moment.

Eventually, a team might descend so far into the abyss that something has to happen, if only for a brief, glorious moment. Teams need you on the hook, one way or another, and the spreadsheet will kick in where shame fails. If they have to pretend to compete to do that, they will, one way or another. Jeffrey Loria, regarded as one of the worst owners in sports, did preside over one tantalizing World Series championship in his first year with the Marlins before robbing the city of Miami at gunpoint for a stadium. The Tampa Bay Buccaneers under the Culverhouse family did, at one point, attempt to compete in football, and made the playoffs before a long dive into the trough. The Clippers under Donald Sterling — yes, even the Clippers — built decent teams from time to time.

There’s a bottom, and eventually your team will hit it so hard even ownership hears the thud and has to do something about it.

And sometimes, just maybe, the sports fan living under the tyranny of the inept and wealthy benefits from the greatest disease of the aristocracy: Protracted familial cannibalism when the owner inevitably dies disputes erupt over large estates. In the estate sale, the team is often nothing more than another ornate lamp or painting no one really wants for anything but cash. The next owner might care enough to make a good product, or failing that at least want to sucker you in with a strong couple of seasons before falling back into the gutter of easy shared revenue and seat licenses.

A good solid family law dispute over ownership of your team might solve itself when the bad team, finally receiving its well-earned level of zero support locally, moves to a new city. They might sell to an owner desperate to bilk Las Vegas, San Antonio, or Los Angeles for a new monorail of a stadium. They might be the Cincinnati Bengals, and improve to the tune of “horrible to mediocre, but you can’t say that’s not improvement.”

Either way, the waiting fan’s outcomes are the easiest, emotionally speaking. The waiting fan is the sloth of the sports ecosystem. By not moving, the mold of indifference and pessimism grows on their fur. After a while, they begin to eat it, and maybe even get some natural camouflage and nutrition from it. They might even start to like it, after a while. When success comes, it probably tastes even better after all the fur-mold sandwiches.

If Cubs fans lived off them for over a century, anyone under the thumb of inescapable mismanagement can, too.