#makes me feel like all the skills I’ve built up over these past 5 years since my injury are worthless cuz I can’t transfer them to painting

[aptericia]

I actually don’t get why my illustration professors disallow digital art it bothers me so much. I just don’t understand the reason. It’s not like we’re all using the same media. It’s not like we’re supposed to step outside of our comfort zones. It’s not even like we can’t print our digital pieces so they’re in a physical format, if that’s what the professor wants! The class is all “Express yourself through your art! We want to see what makes your approach unique! You can use whatever you think will do the job so you can focus on the communication aspects! Oh btw yeah we’re grading for technical ability so don’t mess up too badly!” but if you’re a primarily digital artist you’re just… not allowed to use your primary medium?

Like don’t get me wrong, my painting skills are absolutely not as good as those of most traditional painters. But this isn’t a painting class, so why does it matter?! Besides, the reason digital is my primary medium is because doctors won’t take me seriously and digital is much easier on my untreated hand injury. By forcing me to use media that I’ve neglected because they’re bad for me, I am going to hurt myself AND the professor will not get an accurate gauge of my abilities. I just don’t understand how this helps my learning at all!

[sugasgrowl]

Duplicitous [Chapter 5: Mole]

It’s been SO long since I’ve posted a fic, let alone updated for Duplicitous. The last two years have sucked the life out of me, and I’m just now in a place where I’m feeling creatively inspired again. Expect updates for this story, I don’t plan on letting this baby go anytime soon! As I mentioned in a standalone post, I have edited all previous chapters of this story and tweaked some of the plot points. If you want a detailed explanation as to why I did this, please check out my post.  

AO3 link: here

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 (coming soon)

Pairing: Jungkook x named OC (Oh Nari), Jooheon x named OC (Oh Nari)

Genre: Mafia au, multigroup (Bangtan and Monsta X focused. A few other idols mentioned.)

Word Count: 15,257

Warnings: Mentions of guns and knives, alcohol use, smoking, Taehyung has a Hard Time, mentions of death, mentions of of gore, toxic relationships, (attempted) emotional manipulation, as usual Jooheon is a massive piece of shit, some moments of fluff :’)

Fic Summary: For the past eight years, Oh Nari has not existed. Instead of being a person, she has been a shadow eternally indebted to the Monsta X crime family for getting her off the streets and away from her murderous father. But when using her skills in covert operations to help take down a rivaling mafia known as Bangtan, information comes to light that changes everything she’s ever known. Loyalties are tested, alliances are formed, and lives are at stake as Nari fights for family, truth, and freedom from the duplicitous life she’s been forced to live.

Chapter Summary: Nari learns life changing information. Teahyung reveals what happened the night of Leah’s death. Things take a turn with Nari and Jungkook.

Nari felt like she was going to throw up the entire flight home. 

Paranoia gnawed at her like a starving hound, made her stomach churn as she sat silently curled up in one of the luxurious leather seats of their private jet. Her back was rod straight and her eyes flitted anxiously from face to weary face. No one gave her a second look. Not even Yoongi as he stretched out across his seat, shoes tucked in the compartment under his seat and sock clad feet barely hanging off of the foot rest. 

Had he not told anyone after they parted ways to pack up? 

Her brows furrowed as she blankly stared at him resting so unperturbed in the beige oasis that was the cabin. Baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. Arms crossed as he dozed. He was a cat stretched belly up in the sun. Relaxed. Unbothered. Why wouldn’t he immediately gather the others and let them know that she was a rat? That she was the mole? The second he had suspicions that anyone else was against them, he would have done that. He did do that. It just didn’t make sen--

She jumped when Jimin slid into the seat across the table from her. 

Stunned and wide eyed, she expected him to scream at her. To confront her about everything she knew to be true--that she was the one who unknowingly got Kim killed, that she was the one who should have died instead of Son. That the basis of her entire relationship with Bangtan was built on a foundation of lies. She expected him to yell until he was red in the face and those veins bulged in his forehead and neck and spit gathered in the corners of his mouth. Her heart was a cold, unforgiving hand wrapped around her throat. 

Jimin cleared his throat and awkwardly scratched at his nose. Shifting in the seat, he licked his lips and looked at her with the softest eyes she’d ever seen on him. “I...um…”

His nervous chuckle made her blink in surprise. “Well. Tonight was...intense.”

He didn’t know.

“Yeah,” she managed to say with a steady voice. Her small smile felt stiff. Fake. Because it was. “It was definitely something, that’s for sure.”

“And on top of that shit with Monsta X, you busted your face,” he half teased. “At least the meeting with Zhang went well. Now Choi will be off our asses.”

Oh fuck. Oh no. Oh fuck.

“I--”

“Yoongi told us about what happened.” He winced as he shamelessly eyed the cut on her brow and the darkening bruise billowing out around it. 

She froze. So they did know? Why would they--

“The timing had to have been perfect for that.”

She hummed with a nod and a plastic smile. Palms sweaty and heart hammering in her chest. “Yeah. It hurt like a bitch, too. What’d...What’d Yoongi say about it?”

Jimin’s angelic face broke out into a full on, blinding smile as he bent one knee and hugged it to his chest. He hadn’t smiled at her like that since she seduced him at the Galaxy. “He said he came to find you in the bathroom and tell you that we were about to get changed and head home, and he opened the door just as you were about to walk out and ended up hitting you. Said he felt like shit, since you just essentially saved Tae’s life and handled that shit on your own.”

So….he lied. For her? Yoongi lied about her injuries? Why? Why would he do that when she deserved to be ripped limb from limb? 

Maybe he just wanted to keep things stable until they were on their home turf. She suspected that as soon as they walked through the door, he would expose her for what she was. And as terrified as she was, she couldn’t blame him. Not in the slightest. He trusted her and gave her this opportunity with the hope and confidence that she would make them even more successful than they already were. She betrayed him. 

“Which is kind of… well..” Coffee colored eyes fell to the table as his full, pillowy lips curled in an uncertain grin. “Um...I… I’m not good at this, Jesus--”

When he looked back up at her, she couldn’t help but stare back at him curiously with her brows knitted together and her face twisted in confusion. 

“Nari…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think I owe you an apology.”

“Wh...what?” She nearly choked, head tilting slightly as she leaned a bit closer. 

“I’ve been a dick to you since you got here.” His grin widened, flustered. If she looked close enough she could’ve sworn his cheeks grew pink, that faint flush of color spreading like strokes of watercolor paints. Like a freshly blooming peony. If she didn’t know him personally, she would never have believed that he had taken the lives of countless men into his own capable hands. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, the Serpent that convinced Eve to eat the forbidden fruit. As dangerous as he was, Nari still couldn’t wrap her mind around it when he looked so cherubic. 

His smile faded as he forced himself to swallow the lingering, bitter taste of the anger he tried to hang on to for so long. “Tonight you… I dunno, tonight you stepped in and made sure to diffuse the situation. That’s not something most people in our line of work do. Most people like us just...they just react. Guns blazing, knives out, ready to kill the first person who pushes their buttons.”

He was right, she knew that. She knew that better than anyone. If this very situation happened, if she was still with Monsta X, she would’ve slashed their throats and blown their brains out before they even realized she had moved. She wouldn’t have diffused a goddamn thing. 

But she was different now. She cared about Bangtan differently than she had cared about anyone since her mom died. And it was all so fucked. She was so fucked.

“You kept him from getting himself killed,” Jimin murmured, quiet enough that Taehyung wouldn’t hear him from where he was curled up and facing away from everyone. He hadn’t spoken a word since Nari instructed Jimin to take him back to his room, but he most certainly threw her a withering glare as they made their way out of the hotel. “He’s my best friend. I’m...I’m thankful that you stepped in like you did. Anything we would’ve done would have just made things worse.”

He was...thankful? 

“Don’t thank me.” She let her fake, brittle mask fall away. Seriousness made her tone heavy. “Really. I just...I was just trying to keep everyone safe. I’ve seen a lot in my time as a hitwoman, and guys like Jooheon just want to raise hell. Wanna keep slicing until they hit that soft spot so they can watch you bleed.”

He shrugged. “Still. We’re safe because you acted fast and restrained Taehyung.”

Nari didn’t want to accept the compliment. She wanted, much to the more logical part of her brain’s dismay, to tell the truth for once. She wanted to own up to her shit. A part of her found comfort in the promise of well deserved punishment. She deserved to be crucified for putting them all in danger. Every day she lived in that house, the day Jooheon would undoubtedly burst through the door with all of Monsta X to slaughter them crept closer and closer. 

Maybe they’d do a drive by. Just get it over with. 

Unwanted images of their inevitable demise flashed behind her eyelids. Of them crumpled in heaps on the floor, half their skulls missing and their blood shining on the linoleum of Sejin’s like a menacing lake. Jaws slack, skin too pale. Shards of glass and debris scattered around their slowly stiffening bodies.

The mental image of Jungkook’s empty, glassy, unseeing eyes made her sweat.

She forced herself to send Jimin an appreciative nod. 

He left without saying much else, but soon Jungkook came and took his place. He settled into the seat across the table from her and reclined back in it, a small and thoughtful smile spreading across his face. Seeing him alive and well calmed her uneasy stomach and racing heart. 

He looked exhausted but ethereal. Hair grown far past his cheekbones and messy like he’d just pulled his sweatshirt over his head and run out of his and Hoseok’s hotel room without a second thought. The oversized hoodie hid his sculpted chest and arms, made him look smaller and softer. The ghosts of dark circles were just beginning to show beneath his doe eyes, that all too familiar sleepy pout etched into his rosebud lips. 

He didn’t praise her. Didn’t comment on the damage to her face. He was just there, a warm and familiar comforting presence. He knew her well enough to know that she didn’t want to talk in that moment. But she could tell from the tightness around his eyes that he wanted to check on her. He wanted to ask a million questions, wanted to know what really happened. If she was okay. But he didn’t. He simply passed her a bottle of water before laying back to stretch out just enough to prod her knee once with his Pokemon-themed sock covered foot. 

When he closed his eyes, relief flooded Nari’s chest at the silence that settled like fresh fallen snow. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to be praised or thanked. She wished Yoongi would have told them the truth about her. She wished Jungkook knew. She wished everyone knew. She hated not knowing what game he was playing. 

But at least she was prepared to lose. She could handle not knowing the game, as long as Bangtan won.

The air in Yoongi’s office was frigid. Stagnant. Jooheon’s office was cold--icy even. But it was like the unwavering chill of permafrost. Constant. Yoongi’s cold was a deadly frost sweeping across the world while you slept.

She sat in his desk chair, heart flopping helplessly against her ribcage. Her hands tucked themselves between her bouncing legs. 

She barely had time to put her bag on her bed before he was knocking on her door and telling her to follow him down to his office. His tone was...unreadable. Not angry. Not clipped. If anything, he sounded almost gentle. No tightness around the eyes. He was just Yoongi. 

He leaned back against his desk, towering over her and making her feel microscopic. 

Being inside that room with him felt like being inside a vacuum. Soundless, breathless. Even her thoughts felt too loud in the thundering silence as they stared at each other, waiting for the other to speak. 

He didn’t. He watched. Calculated. Nari could feel him dismantling her bit by bit, wearing her down. Taking her apart, taking notes, and putting the pieces back where he found them. She could feel it as if he were doing it with his own hands. She was a specimen to be studied.

“Why aren’t I in the warehouse right now?” She pressed, quiet but fierce. She couldn’t take the silence any longer. His smirk sparked heat in her stomach, annoyance she couldn’t stomp out with the toe of her boot. “Why haven’t you gathered everyone yet? Why am I not dead yet?”

“Do you want to be?” He tilted his head, brows lifting beneath his fringe. A glimmer of amusement shone in his onyx eyes. 

She couldn’t fight the scowl curling at her mouth. “I’d rather get this over with than drag it out. We both know what you saw--”

“What did I see, Nari?” He crossed his ankles and settled into the dark wood of his desk. All too comfortable with this game. 

Her lips pressed into a tight line. She didn’t want to say it. Before that moment, she expected him to just drag everyone to the warehouse and wipe her off the planet. She hoped for that. 

Her jaw clenched. “What do you want me to say, Yoongi? That I got drilled by Jooheon two minutes before you came in? That we had sex, that--that I’ve--”

“That was more than just sex,” he dumbfoundedly scoffed, satoori dripping from his every word. His eyes narrowed. “He nearly fucking killed you, you idiot.” 

She ran a hand through her hair, eyes widening in disbelief as she gestured wildly. “Why does that matter? Why does that matter to you when I’ve been the mole this entire time--?!”

“I know,” he gritted out, glancing at the office door. “I’ve known since the beginning that you were a mousy piece of shit, you rat. How stupid do you think I am?”

She recoiled. Had she been that transparent? Was she that bad at her job? 

He chuckled, eyes tearing away from hers as he scratched at his jaw. “Surprised?”

“How did you know?”

He shrugged. “I knew you wouldn’t just show your face and expose yourself after all that time unless there was an ulterior motive behind it. I was curious. So I took a shot in the dark and waited to see what it hit.”

Her mouth was cotton and sand. “You knew from the beginning?”

“I had my suspicions. They were just confirmed when you went and met Jooheon. Not to mention, my desk chair was out of place after your little attempt at digging up information.”

She silently cursed his perceptive eye.

“You had me tailed.” She all but growled, fingers digging into the arms of his chair. 

His smug grin made her bristle. “I tailed you myself. If my suspicions were wrong, I didn’t want to cause any tension or distrust with the guys. Couldn’t risk anyone talking and word reaching the rest of the group. But I was right. As usual.”

Months. He’d known for months. She’d been tiptoeing around like a fucking fool, and the whole time he knew everything. He kept up the whole fucking act, even killed one of his own men for no reason. Kept his closest men in the dark. 

A tense, angry quiet settled over them as she struggled to smother the prideful work ethic throwing a tantrum in her mind. 

“Why didn’t you kill me?” Her nostrils flared as she ran her hand down her face. 

“Because of how you reacted to killing Son.”

“That was three days ago. I’ve been here for months. Why the fuck would you kill Son if you knew it was my fault?”

His cocky expression faded and melted into an odd twist to his pink mouth. His gaze dropped to the floor as he unfolded his arms and gripped the edge of the desk. “Son had been stealing from me and talking shit for I don’t even know how long. I’m not happy about it, but it had to be done. Just a two birds, one stone kinda situation.”

He took a moment and let the truth settle in their bones. His eyes were staring past the office and into memories of when he first met Nari. “I wanted to keep an eye on you. See what Jooheon was planning. And those other fuckers. My gut told me you’d change alliances.”

“Why?”

“Because of Jungkook,” he replied, a frustrated edge to his voice. “Because every time he’s part of the equation, you let your guard down. Because the more time you spend around him, the more human you get.”

She simmered. Furious. She did not. She was more professional than that. She’d never let a man sway her alliances.

But she did. She did with Jooheon, and now she was doing the same thing with Jungkook. Was she really that easy to manipulate? Was she that easily driven by men?

No. Jooheon manipulated her. Jungkook softened her. There was a difference. Yoongi was right. Jungkook was a weakness, she’d known that from the beginning. He changed her. They changed her.

Yoongi shook his head slightly, sucking on his teeth with a hiss. “I am surprised that the Dragon has kept such a distance from you, though. As much money as he’s poured into your training, I’d assume he would be on your ass.”

Nari wheezed with a punched out breath. The mere mention of his name made her lungs tighten. He was the noose around her neck, cinching tighter with every wretched memory replaying through her mind. 

The blood drained from her face in a sickening chill. “What?”

He looked at her from the corner of his eye and took in her rattled appearance. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?” Her voice was a breathy, shaky rasp. 

She was standing in her living room again. Years prior. Heart skipping and fingers trembling and numb as she looked on at her father. Everything in slow motion. Everything frozen, hands of the clock hovering motionless in stunned fear. She was looking on at her mother, icy, deadly gunmetal kissing the pale skin of her forehead. Her father’s mouth twisted into a wolfish smile. It was all happening again. She was helpless--almost eighteen and powerless. Defenseless. Everything painted red.

The low rumble of Yoongi’s voice made her snap back to reality, sweat prickling at the back of her neck and her breaths ragged.

He made his way over and reached over her to log in to his desktop. The blue light of the monitor illuminated his face as he typed away, eyes tense with concentration. He clicked on the file. The password protected file.

After typing in the code, he tapped on the screen with a finger and looked down at her. “You mean to tell me you didn’t know about this?”

A picture. Two men lounging at a club, both with drinks in front of them. Clearly in a deep discussion as dancers and scantily clad women traipsed around with trays of more drinks. There was no denying that it was Jooheon and her father. Even if it was dark and a little grainy, she knew those faces anywhere. 

It made her stomach twist. 

“When was this?” She could hear the clench of her jaw in her voice. 

Yoongi crossed his arms. “The night before Kim was found dead.”

No. No. This couldn’t be happening. 

“I don’t believe you.”

He knew? Knew all along that it was Jooheon who fucked over their arms deal. Knew what she was. Knew her plan. 

If it was true, if Jooheon was working with her father, it made perfect sense as to why he would risk her life and take out Kim. Her father couldn’t have more competition. 

He snorted and clicked to the next image. The same club, but a different day according to their change in outfits. His eyes stayed on the screen. “The day after the bank robbery.”

The next photo was in a different location. The very park where she and Jooheon had met. The quality of the picture was startlingly clearer than the previous ones taken from security camera footage--clearly one of Yoongi’s men had followed them and hidden somewhere to take them. “The day before we met at the Galaxy.”

She wanted to throw up. That was the day that she and Jooheon had their last night together. The night where he took her to that lavish Italian restaurant and fucked her senseless when they got home. When she let him touch her and kiss her and feel her. She worshiped him that night, and he let her. He let her do it after meeting with her father, knowing what that monster did to her. To her mother. Not a flicker of guilt or remorse on his face. 

Yoongi clicked through the contents of the file. Photos, call logs, text messages, even bank statements. All available thanks to none other than Kim Taehyung, Nari guessed. Her father had been paying Jooheon off for years. 

The last photo in the album--the first photo, chronologically--made her eyes burn. 

The same Italian restaurant that Jooheon often took her to. Her father sat across from him, his hands steepled in front of his face. He always did that when he talked business. 

The date was stark white against the low lighting of the photo. January 15, 2014. That was just a few short days after she fled to Korea. Maybe two weeks after she turned eighteen. She was still on the streets then. 

“Do you really think it was coincidence that someone in the same field as your father just happened to find you and recruit you?” Yoongi lowly said, eyes hard and glinting with a look Nari couldn’t quite put her finger on. “He’s power hungry and greedy--he wanted as much of a guarantee for success as possible. What better way to do that than to become an illusionist? Watch one hand while the other slits your throat.”

She couldn’t move. Frozen. “What are you saying? Why do you even have all of this?”

“I’m saying that Monsta X has been the face of your father’s operation. Jooheon’s men take the fall when things go south, while your father’s men do the heavy lifting behind the scenes.” He enunciated every word, every syllable, like he wanted each one to cut. “Monsta X is the face, and Lotus is the fucking brain.”

The world spun. Tilted harsh and unforgiving before her very eyes. She’d been working for her father since she was eighteen years old. She’d been killing for him. Stealing for him. Committing sins--unforgivable, nightmare inducing sins that had begun haunting her more and more after her conscience arose from its dormancy. All she’d been doing was his bidding, following his orders. Jooheon was merely the messenger. Everything she’d known was a lie. Everything she said she would never be, she became overnight. 

“Don’t worry. No one knows that you’re the Dragon’s daughter but me.” Yoongi rolled up his sleeves. “I’ve been accumulating this information for years because I knew there would be a time when Lotus would try to eliminate us. Bangtan hasn’t always been a threat, but now we are. And clearly your father predicted that, and wanted someone he could train specifically to get rid of us. Taehyung hacked what I told him to hack, found everything I asked him to look for. But I made sure to keep you out of the eye of the others. Because I knew they would want to kill you. You know Jimin and Hoseok. They’d want to find a way to kill you before you ever snuck in. I thought it would be best to wait. Because if we waited, we could either turn you and use your information, or I could kill you myself.”

Yoongi knew what she was and plotted her death in case he couldn’t turn her. He manipulated her, too. But his manipulation didn’t feel like Jooheon’s. It didn’t feel like the cold, biting prick of a blade edging her towards a certain way of thinking. 

Her mind drifted back to the day that Jooheon found her. He strolled up to her shivering body with purpose. On a mission. Somehow, he seemed taller than all the bright and shining buildings towering around them. His confidence was an entity of its own, added what felt like ten feet to his height. Power radiated from him in waves, and she was immediately awestruck.

Back then she thought he chose her because he had been watching, because he thought she was everything he needed--that Monsta X needed. It seemed too good to be true, too perfect even then. Him with his designer suits and shining shoes that reflected the helpless, cornered girl that she was in the glint of their leather. But she never let herself think about the truth that stared her in the face. Because that meant that there was no escaping him. There was no freedom, no getting out of this lifestyle. There would be no peace. Her father would always find her. 

Jooheon lied to her. There was no love. There had never been a relationship. Every single moment with Lee Jooheon was a ploy to manipulate her and further her father’s agenda. For money, for power. The few good memories, although sterile even when she was blissfully ignorant, were lies. The words he whispered to her as they made love were poison meant to weaken her enough to comply without question. The reason she had been so tightly woven in Jooheon’s clutches was because she was meant to be. 

Nari’s gaze was focused on Yoongi, unwavering. Hardening with each passing second. “So you’re not killing me?”

“Not unless you ask me to,” he softly muttered. 

“What does all of this mean for my position in Bangtan?” The almost excited, furious sharpness to her tone made his lips curl at the corners. 

“Well,” he smirked, chuckling with a slight tick of his head. “How committed are you to eliminating this threat, Nari?”

Her eyes glowed. “I want to watch the light leave Lee Jooheon’s eyes.”

Yoongi grinned then. Pride showed through the subtle cracks in his nonchalant exterior. “Then none of this will affect your position in Bangtan.”

He pushed off the desk and headed towards the door.

“Yoongi,” she called. When he stopped in his tracks, fingers wrapped around the knob, she bit back a cold half-smile. “I’m pulling the trigger.” 

Jungkook lured Nari into the soft glow of his bedroom before she could slink past undetected. All it took was the soft, honeyed way he called her name as she left Yoongi’s office for her to follow the sound and shut the door quietly behind her. Sora greeted her excitedly at the door, tail wagging and eyes bright. Her happy bark got Jungkook’s attention more than Nari’s presence. When he looked up from his phone, concern creased his brow, made his gaze heavy as his kind eyes locked on her bruising face. 

There were a few beats of stunned silence as she stood, awkward and still overwhelmed from her conversation with Yoongi, in the middle of his room. He looked like he had so much to say, so much he wanted to ask. Understandable, considering she truly did look like she’d been chewed up and spit out. 

Although there was no malice in his stare, it still made Nari’s stomach dip with guilt. The weight of it was a coin free-falling down a well, finally breaking the water’s surface at the bottom with a light plunk. She lied to him for people who didn’t give a shit about her, for people who just saw her as a pawn. For people who wanted him and the rest of Bangtan dead. By the look in his eyes, it was obvious that he knew the excuses for her injuries were less than truthful. He deserved better. She wanted to be better.

As she broke the frozen atmosphere and slid into bed next to him, he pulled back the covers to make room. As always, he was a human furnace. She didn’t realize she was cold until she was pressed thigh to thigh with him and nearly melting. 

He was quiet, contemplative. Despite being a grown man, there was something childlike about the way he was sitting cross-legged in the sheets and how he ruffled his dog’s golden fur as she jumped onto the bed to nudge his face with her head. Strong, tattooed arms hugged a pillow to his chest. Something about it made her chest ache in a way she didn’t know how to process. 

Curling up on her side and peering up at him through her lashes, she bit back a chuckle at the look of absolute worry plaguing his handsome features. “Stop it.”

“I’m not doing anything.” His slow, lopsided, lazy grin seemed to make the world stop turning. “I’m just thinking.”

“A lot of good that’s done us tonight.”

“Does it hurt?” It was immediate. Like he’d been holding it in for hours. Like it had been gnawing at him.

She doubted he meant the sting of betrayal. The reminder of her wound had the raw, aching skin throbbing as she nodded. “Yeah. Jin hooked me up with a couple of little stitches at the hotel before we left. Nothing serious, I’m fine. Just have a headache is all.”

His silence was anything but quiet, Nari could nearly hear how quickly his thoughts flipped through questions like a revolving door. 

“Are you okay?” He was almost hesitant to ask. After seeing her handle pain, sadness, and discontent in a variety of ways, his least favorite way to see her was masking that pain. He knew she was hiding something, he just wasn’t sure what. “Tonight was scary.”

Humming and scratching at her nose, she avoided his gaze and instead traced the ink that decorated his arm. “Of course I’m okay.” 

“Yoongi didn’t just hit you with the door.” Doe eyes flickered to her injury. “Did he?”

“Why do you wanna know?” She joked. “Jealous? I mean, I get it. He’s a good looking guy. I’d probably want to be me, too, if I were in your shoes. Beautiful man all worried and in a tizzy over me.”

His lack of response made the smile melt off of her face and twist into a sour purse. Her fingers never stilled, still trailing along his tattoos. “No. He didn’t.”

“What happened?” His voice was soft, but there was a hidden edge--something in the vicinity of fear, maybe just west of it. When she didn’t respond, he wrapped his fingers around hers to deprive her of the one distraction offered her when his face was so damn close to hers. “Nari?”

She couldn’t tell him, not yet. Not without Yoongi by her side, anyway. Not only was it risky because she was unsure of how he would react or if he would tell everyone else, she was also ashamed. The longer she spent away from Monsta X, the more she realized that she didn’t like the person she had become. The things she’d done were terrible even for those in the mafia. Yes, Jooheon and her father had done a fair bit of work to instill fear when people heard her name, but she had to hold herself accountable for the sins she willingly agreed to commit for the same reason.

Mouth curling into a scowl, she tried to hold back the frustration in her tone. “Why do you want to know? Why do you care, anyway? I’m a big girl, Jungkook, I don’t need you to worry over me all the time.”

Hurt toed along the edges of his expression. The sharpness that hardened his sweet voice made her shrink--she didn’t like seeing someone so good verge on anger because of her. “Why do I care? Nari, we’re friends! Of course I care about you, I-- I know you’re an adult, I know you’re strong and independent. I admire those things about you, but you shoulder all of this shit alone and don’t ever talk about it. I care about you, whether you like it or not.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off in an irritated snap. “Let me finish.”

“We’ve shared a bed together, we’ve talked, we’ve gotten close, hell, I’ve even held you as you cried. I care if you’re hurt, and I care if someone hurt you. You don’t have to like it, that’s fine. But you can’t stop me from being scared shitless when you randomly come back from the bathroom after all that tonight looking like a battered housewife. I gave you space and didn’t say anything on the plane because I knew you needed time, but if-- I mean, did Yoongi--? No one laid a hand on you on that terrace, so something must’ve happened--”

He cared. He truly, genuinely cared. He was kind, and funny, and warm. If she was a snake, then he was the sun protecting her from the creeping cold. He wanted to protect her--even put himself in danger to keep her safe tonight. He was so beautiful, and finally she realized love didn’t have to hurt. It didn’t have to be manipulation and hollow promises.  

Her body acted on its own accord. His voice faded to a startled and confused silence when she sat up to be nose to nose with him. Heart galloping in her chest, she hesitantly touched his cheek. When she spoke, her voice was shaking. “Would you still care about me if I kissed you?”

Blinking, his eyes widened. His voice cracked, and had Nari not been so nervous, she might’ve laughed. “I said you couldn’t stop me from caring about you.”

How long had she been wanting to do this? Since that night at the Galaxy? How long had she been ignoring the way Jungkook made her feel just because she was scared that he would treat her like Jooheon did? Thinking back, she supposed part of it was that she was scared of leaving the life she was led to believe was good for her and that she had always known.

Heart hammering, she slowly leaned forward until the tickle of their lips brushing sent a faint chill down both of their spines. The smell of his eucalyptus shampoo and remnants of the cologne that clung to him made her let out a shaky breath. Nerves electric. 

Jungkook’s large, warm hand slowly slid up her side, thumb stroking comfortingly through her shirt. If Nari didn’t know better, she would say that he was a little shaky. The tip of his nose grazed hers, eager but hesitant. Waiting for her lead. Almost pleading. Gentle, respectful as all of his touches were and had always been. Wordlessly, he gave the faintest nod, a breath fanning out across her skin, as if he was both giving permission and begging for her touch. 

Taking the plunge halted time. His lips were warm and inviting, the soft sigh of relief against her mouth had them both melting into each other. His lip ring’s biting chill stole her breath away. The kiss was tender and slow, like both of them were scared of popping the bubble and overstepping. 

Nari was falling. Plummeting through space and time. Finally getting to taste him, to let him in, had her chest aching and twinging. She prayed that he meant what he said and that he wouldn’t hate her after it was over. That he would stay.

Jungkook couldn’t take it anymore, the hesitancy and restraint making his nerves hum with static. Both hands slid up Nari’s arms to cup her face, to hold her closer. To kiss her deeper.

His tongue teased along the seam of her lips, drew a shudder from her and made her heart stutter in her chest. Nari felt the thrum of his pulse beneath her palm when she rested her hand on his neck--racing. Nervous. Excited. He was excited to kiss her, something so gentle made him weak. 

Something about it made her feel like she was on fire, threatened to consume her. 

Their breaths fanned out across each other’s skin as she pulled back just enough to let her eyes flicker up to his, reeling.

He was pink in the cheeks and ears, eyes somehow both soft and glowing as he looked down at her with pupils blown. Caught between warmth and a sensual pull, an air about him that seemed to shift as her taste lingered on his tongue. He looked sinful, but the purest form of it. Man’s first sin--curiosity. Temptation. Not tainted and corrupted by malice. 

Shoulders shaking in a breathless chuckle, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His voice was a low murmur. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Nari took a deep breath, thumb lightly running along his pink lower lip as she gathered her bearings. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to, Jungkook.”

Before he could speak, she pressed her lips to his again in a soft, lingering kiss. She pulled away with a wet smack and gave a small smile when his brows furrowed, gaze confused. “I’m okay. That’s all that matters.”

He didn’t move when she got up and made her way out, didn’t say goodnight. Mentally, she swore that she would tell him everything as soon as it was safe. 

Nari couldn’t sleep. At the third hour of trying to find shapes and faces in the shadows thrown across the ceiling, she sat up with a sigh. Although it was the witching hour, the house seemed to hold its breath in wait for something. As if anticipating, uneasy. As if the house itself couldn’t find itself able to sleep, either. 

On top of things changing between her and Jungkook, knowing that her role in Monsta X and Lotus was what got Leah killed had guilt slithering in her stomach like a bed of snakes. Seeing Taehyung so broken and emotional felt like he was accusing her directly. Of course, she knew that that wasn’t a productive way of thinking. She didn’t know. Jooheon and her teammates kept that from her in an attempt to hide the truth--that Nari was working for her own father. If she had found out…

She thought it over for a moment as she sat staring blankly into her moonlit bedroom. 

What would she have done if she found out? Would she have done anything at all? Before starting this job, she was so blinded by Jooheon’s manipulation that she would have believed anything he said. A part of her questioned if she would’ve just stayed and continued to work for her father with no question. 

Until Jooheon and her father were rotting, she supposed she still technically worked for her father. She always would, unless she put bullets in their brains. Her father would find her, always. She remembered what happened to her mother when he found out she was trying to leave him. 

Kissing Jungkook was a mistake. Getting too involved with him like that just put him in even more danger, it was entirely selfish. 

Nari threw her legs over the side of the bed and shivered at the bite of cold hardwood under her feet. If she wasn’t going to sleep, maybe she could at least binge something on Netflix. Maybe get her mind off of the memory of Jungkook’s lips on hers and the way his hands felt on her skin.

But when she slowly, quietly padded into the hallway, she halted in her tracks and stood staring at the sliver of light flickering underneath Taehyung and Namjoon’s door. Normally at this time of night, they would both be asleep--TV acting as a nightlight to protect the younger of the two from the demons under his bed. But the tone of the voices, the lilt in them, the slight waver, made her chest clench in a painful vice. 

Taehyung was crying. 

Creeping closer to the door and trying to ignore Cheddar happily rubbing between her legs, the wood met her temple with a cool and gentle kiss as she listened in. The voices were muffled, but she could still make out what they were saying.

“Taehyung, it wouldn’t have solved anything. You know that,” Namjoon’s deep voice rumbled. 

He sniffled, voice ragged and shaking. “I kn-know. I know. But I just-- He took everything from me. It’s just s-so unfair-- Why-- Why does he get to live when Leah’s f-fuckin’--”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence before he was taking in a gasp of a breath.

A moment of silence passed before Namjoon spoke again, quieter this time. “You knew what you were signing up for when you joined Bangtan. She knew what she was signing up for when she stayed with you. We made it clear from the jump that there’s always the chance of shit hitting the fan. You remember that conversation.”

“Yeah, but--”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done,” Namjoon insisted slowly, enunciating every word. “There’s nothing you can do. What’s done is done. Killing Jooheon won’t bring Leah back.”

It won’t bring her back. But it’d feel good. It’d make Taehyung feel good to sink the sharpest blade he could find into that motherfucker’s chest. To scoop his eyes out with a melon baller. To crush his skull with Jimin’s bat. To make him pay.

Nari knocked on their door before she could stop herself. 

The soft murmurs halted for a few brief moments. Namjoon opened the door a crack, sharp eyes meeting hers. The half second of silence was deafening. 

“Can I talk to him?” She nearly whispered, chest aching. 

The nod came after a few heady, thoughtful seconds. His voice was but a low plea breathed out into the dark hallway. “He needs to know that it wasn’t his fault. I...I’ve been telling him. But he needs to hear it from someone else.”

He slipped past her and made his way downstairs without another word. 

Taehyung stared at her through the open door, puppy eyes glassy and lips curled over his teeth to hide the way his chin quivered. He looked like a little boy then, broken and in desperate need of reassurance. Like if she even looked at him wrong he would start sobbing. She didn’t even blame him, she would do the same if something happened to the people she loved. 

Out of fear of the tremble in his voice, she walked in and shut the door behind her without asking for permission. Neither of them said anything, neither really meeting each other’s eyes as she swayed on her feet. Something in her wouldn’t let her move farther than standing in the middle of the room.

“I’m sorry.” The remorse in her voice was thick enough to cut with a knife. 

He didn’t look at her. Just sniffed and wiped at his nose with the back of his hand. She almost didn’t hear his response. “Don’t be.”

She bounced a little when she sat down on his mattress, eyes locked on the creases and hills in the twisted sheets. 

His eyes were somewhere else, elbows propped on his knees and hands dangling between his thighs. The long wispy curtain of his lashes shone with remnants of tears, lips still swollen and nose red in the flickering glow of the TV. Undoubtedly, he was thinking back. Thinking back to earlier in the night when he first caught sight of that inked dagger on the inside of Jooheon’s wrist. The one that scarred her hip. She wondered what horrors that sight dragged from his memory.

“You know that’s not who I am,” he murmured, quiet and heavy from the weight of his heart. His chocolate eyes gave her a quick glance. “‘M not the kinda guy who...who loses his shit. I don’t know what happened--”

“You got angry.” Her smile was miniscule, just the subtle lift of the corner of her mouth. 

Taehyung nodded, overgrown waves falling in his eyes. Clearing his throat, he finally looked at her with eyes that swam with hurt. 

“I know this is weird.” He tiredly gestured to Namjoon’s side of the room. 

Neither side was impeccably clean, both had a few pieces of dirty laundry strewn across the floor. Taehyung’s side was mostly littered with the clothes from that very night, but the older man’s side of the room was a bit more untidy and lived in. 

Namjoon had a mini trash can by his desk that overflowed with crumpled pieces of paper--all failed ideas or angry, emotional letters to people that would never actually be sent. Jungkook once told Nari that was something Namjoon did. Writing letters to people who he was on bad terms with. He said he’d never been a violent guy, but being wrongfully accused of rape and murder and serving time for a crime you didn’t commit changes a person. 

Namjoon wrote letters to cope with his anger so he wouldn’t lash out. Tae bottled his up.  

Adam’s apple bobbing, he forced away the lump in his throat. “I just-- I couldn’t s-stay in that room. Couldn’t sleep in there. Had...had night terrors ‘n shit.” 

She put a comforting hand on his knee. “I don’t blame you. I’d be the same way.”

He was barely hanging on, close enough to tears that they slipped over his waterline and dripped from his eyelashes despite how hard he tried to keep his composure. Large, tan hands trembled as he clasped them tight. 

All Nari wanted to do was make it right. She just wanted to right the wrong she helped take part in causing--she wanted justice for Tae. For Leah. And she would get it. At first, all she wanted to do after hearing the truth about Jooheon and her father was kill Jooheon herself. But after seeing and hearing the heartbreak that crippled Taehyung, all she wanted to do was ensure that he got revenge. She wanted to make sure that he got his chance to kill the monster that murdered the love of his life. 

“It’s not your fault, Tae,” she softly said, sliding a hand down his forearm to rest on top of his clasped hands. “You couldn’t have changed anything about how it would’ve ended.”

And that was truth. Both her father and Jooheon were unstoppable forces when it came to the family business. If her father told Monsta X to kill Leah, she was dead. There was no saving her.

“You d-don’t know that,” he whimpered, eyes sliding shut and head falling forward so his chin nearly kissed the warm, honey skin of his chest. His phoenix tattoo curled and rippled along the curve of his shoulder with the clench in his muscles as he moved, bright reds and oranges and yellows muted from the glow of late night infomercials. The feathers seemed to brush his collarbone. 

“I do know that.”

“No you don’t,” he hiccuped, pitifully wiping at the wetness streaming down his cheeks. “You w-weren’t there-- You don’t know what happened.”

Her throat tightened, eyes threatening to burn. 

He took a deep, shaky breath and lifted his head to look at her. “I’d b-been looking into other crime families for Yoongi and j-just giving him all the information I found. I guess I got too close because--”

His handsome face twisted then, too overcome with emotion to finish his sentence.

“You don’t have to talk about it.” She rubbed at his back with what she hoped was a comforting touch. His skin was cool under her palm, soft and smooth. Part of her wondered if she should get him a blanket, but before she could go looking for one, he spoke again. 

“That night Leah and I were the only two at h-home. It was so rare, y’know? There were e-eight people living in one house, so she wanted to take advantage of it. I was trying to finish up some work on my laptop downstairs, and she’d been begging me to just slow down ‘n spend time with h-her--” His voice broke at the end of the word, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. 

Nari could practically see it. The sweet, angelic face of the woman in those pictures, smiling and teasing Tae for working too hard. Maybe pestering him as she tried her best to get his attention. She could see Taehyung’s grin as he batted her away, hear the whine in his voice when he insisted that he was almost finished. For her to be patient. The epitome of domestic love, albeit in an atypical situation. 

Taehyung’s shoulders shook as he tried to compose himself enough to speak. “I f-finally caved ‘n followed her upst-stairs. But when we got to the top there w-was this-- Fuck--”

He knotted his hands in his hair, elbows back on his knees as he sobbed at the memories replaying in his mind. 

“There was a crash. They just— came r-right through the door.” He sat up, glassy eyes meeting hers in a desperate plea to understand. “I told her to h-hide in the closet-- I thought she’d be safe, Nari! I t-told her to h-hide-- In our cl-oset-- So I g-got my gun-- ‘N-- ‘N I went to see what it was.”

Taehyung’s bone rattling inhale made tears spring up in her eyes. “The guys always tol’ me not to c-call the cops if somethin’ happened, s-so I didn’t. W-why didn’t I j-just call the f-fuckin’ cops--?!”

“Tae…” She reached up to gently wipe at his tears, the slightly stubbly skin of his face burning hot. “You just did what they told you to do--”

Long fingers tightly wrapped around her wrists where she tended to his wet cheeks. “S-someone-- One of ‘em f-fuckin’ pistol whipped me in the back of the head when I turned the c-corner. I just fell like a useless sack of shit, I-- I couldn’t even defend myself--”

“You shouldn’t have had to,” she hushed. 

He broke then, a sob wracking his body so hard that he folded forward and rested his forehead on her shoulder. Although he was much broader and larger than her, he seemed so small in that moment. Almost fragile, like he needed to be protected. 

She wound her arms around him and squeezed. Maybe if she held him hard and long enough, she could pull his broken pieces back together. Maybe she could ease the ache. 

“I w-woke up-- Tied to my desk ch-chair, ‘n they--” She could barely understand him, his sobs nearing full on wails. The pain of remembering was too much, that unforgiving, sharp, and slicing bite of nightmarish memories flashing behind his eyelids in startling clarity. 

Long fingers fisted her shirt as he tried to anchor himself, hot tears soaking through the fabric and stuttering breaths huffing out against the skin of her neck. “They m-ade me watch--”

Her blood went cold. Having to watch them kill her. It wasn’t unheard of for that to be a method of punishment for Jooheon--for the mafia in general--but the idea of Taehyung being on the receiving end was like being dunked in an ice bath. She had never taken part in something like that simply because Jooheon wanted her to remain faceless, so she could leave no witnesses. But she would have if he’d told her to. She would’ve done it gladly. 

Her stomach twisted.

“Shhhh,” she softly hushed, easing them down to lay on his mattress. Guilt gnawed at her. Had her palms and mouth sweating. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know it hurts--”

He gasped for breath through a slick of tears, drool, and snot. “She was screamin’-- She wouldn’t stop screaming, and they-- There-- Was so much blood-- ‘N-- I couldn’t do anything! It’s my f-fault--!”

She could so vividly see it. The flash of terror in both Tae’s and Leah’s eyes as they realized what was about to happen. She could hear the wet, sickening schlump of Jooheon’s knife as it sank into her flesh. The audible slice of skin, the splatter of blood on the hardwood. She could see in her mind’s eye the way blood would’ve splattered across Taehyung’s face. His lips, nose, and cheeks marred with the stain of his lover’s blood. The way Leah’s face would pale as thee seconds ticked by. She could see the way Jooheon’s eyes would’ve been shining behind his mask, glowing bright and lethal. 

She could see it, because she had committed so many sins similar to what was done to Leah. She had spilled so much blood on her own.

“Taehyung, listen to me,” she muttered as she pulled back to hold his burning face. “Look at me. Breathe with me, I need you to listen.”

The wheeze of his struggle to slow his quick and uneven breathing was a deep, phlegmy rattle. When the rise and fall of his chest somewhat matched Nari’s, she nodded at him and held his watery and defeated gaze. 

“Good. Now listen to me.” Her tone was almost stern, that slight urgency there to hopefully edge him out of the spiral he was in. “What happened to Leah was horrible. It was absolutely horrific, and I can’t even imagine how guilty you must feel. But there is nothing on this Earth that you could have done to stop it.”

His round eyes welled with tears, swollen and pouting lips parted to speak before she put a gentle finger up to silence him. “Jooheon wanted Leah dead. He wanted to hurt you. You were just doing your job. He decided he was going to kill her to get to you, and you and I both know nothing would’ve changed his mind or stopped him. This is not your fault.”

His lower lip quivered, brows slanting as he took a moment to sniffle through a whimper caught in the back of his throat. 

“Do you understand?” She asked.

He nodded.

“I need you to say it out loud.” 

“No.”

“Say it.” She pressed, adamant.

The heavy pause between them was filled only by the quiet background noise from the TV and Taehyung’s hesitant squirms. 

“Taehyung.” He looked up at her through a thick spray of lashes, sheepish. “Say it. It’s not your fault.” 

“‘S not my fault,” he murmured, gaze falling to the sheets.

She fought to meet his eyes. “Louder.”

He pulled his face from her hands with a turn of his head. His mouth twisted in what was a weak, angry, heartbroken snarl as he furiously wiped at his face. “It’s not my fault, okay?! I get it! I know there was nothing I c-could’ve done. But, goddammit! I miss her!”

There he was.

She understood. Blaming himself was easier than to just accept the fact that nothing could have been done. That Leah’s tragic fate was inevitable. She probably understood more than most. She still blamed herself for her mother’s death. For what she prayed she could prevent happening to Bangtan. It was easier than digesting the idea that she was set up to fail from the beginning. That her poor mother was destined to die the moment she stayed with a kingpin. 

Sitting up on her elbow, she nodded slowly. “I know you do. And you’re going to miss her every day. But I’m making a promise to you right now, Tae. You’re going to get even. I don’t know how. But I’m going to make it happen.”

His dark eyes hardened. “I’m gonna be pissed if you break that promise.”

“I would never.”

Flopping onto his back, he looked up at the ceiling and fisted his swollen eyes with a groan. “Seeing him tonight… Realizing it was Monsta X who did it… For the longest time, I thought knowing would give me closure. But all it really did was piss me off.”

“Knowing is just knowing. Knowing doesn’t do anything,” she sighed, laying on her back beside him and sliding one of her hands behind her head. “It just gives you more things to hate. More things to wanna rip to shreds.”

He hummed deep in his chest.

They both fell asleep as the sun began to rise.

Nari didn’t want to keep the truth hidden away from Bangtan anymore. She wanted to tell everyone more than anything. Keeping it from them was like a constant stone weighing in the pit of her stomach, a constant heaviness in her bones. She wasn’t sure what telling everyone would do. It would probably cause more problems than solve them. But the guilt was taking its toll on her. 

When she brought the idea up to Yoongi as he readied a wire for her to wear to her meeting with Jooheon, he scoffed. “Do you know how fast they would snap your neck?”

Her brows furrowed. “I don’t think they would kill me--”

“Jungkook, Namjoon, and Taehyung wouldn’t kill you,” he corrected. Nimble fingers taped the wire to her bare chest as she stood in the middle of his office in only her bra. “Hoseok and Jimin would lose their minds.”

He was quiet for a brief moment before letting his eyes flicker up to meet hers. “Jin would want to kill you just because of your blood.”

“But I hate my father.”

“Do you think that matters to someone who had their entire family slaughtered by him?” Pale blue bangs fell into his eyes as he finished the last of his taping and shook his head. As he walked over to sink into his desk chair, she pulled her shirt back over her head. “Do you not see how this looks? Yeah, you didn’t know that he conned you into working for him. But convincing them that that is the honest to god truth is going to take time. A lot of time--”

“They deserve to know who’s living under the same roof as them.” She adjusted her collar and gave him a look. “We don’t have time to keep them in the dark, Yoongi. This could all go to shit before they found out. How would we explain ourselves if something bad happened? You’d look just as guilty as me if we don’t tell them.”

Dark brows sat low on his face as he thought it over. The subtle downturn of his sour pout gave away the bitterness burning in the back of his throat. 

“If something goes wrong and they find out you’ve known who I am the whole time, the guys would never trust you again.” She crossed her arms. “You can’t run an operation like this without trust, Yoongi. We both know that.”

Rubbing the stubble on his chin, he exhaled through his nose and sucked on his teeth with a hiss. “I’ll think about it. It’s just…there are a lot of people in this family who have been fucked over by your people, Nari--”

“They’re not my people.”

“They were your people.” The relaxed way he leaned back, spineless, in his chair was a stark contrast to the way she fought the irritation of being associated with Lotus. “I mean… Jin and Taehyung both have had the people they loved most stolen from them because of your father. Jimin and Hoseok would never trust you again. That’s over half of our most important men.”

“They deserve to know.”

He waved her off dismissively. “I heard you.”

Before she could say anything else, he took a deep breath and heaved a sigh. “See what you can find out. I trust that you won’t do anything stupid.”

Scowling, she crossed her arms. “Have I done anything stupid up until this point?”

“Well.” He pointedly raised a brow. “You let Jooheon fuck you silly and batter the shit out of you. That pretty little goose egg on your face should be a reminder of that.”

He had a point, but she was bitter about it. The swollen and healing bruise throbbed as she bit her tongue.

“Just don’t get anyone killed.”

The only person that would be dying would be Jooheon. But even that would have to wait until everything fell into place. She couldn’t just kill him, he would have at least one person watching their meeting from afar. To make sure no one interfered. To make sure no one tailed Nari. If only they knew.

The knowledge that her whole existence for the last eight years had been a lie, had been a ploy to trick her into working for her father, made her blood boil even as she made her way towards the door. She trusted Jooheon. She pledged fealty to him, swore that she would do whatever he asked without question. The longer she thought back and remembered their time together, the more she saw just how fake everything was. He lied to her, manipulated her, threatened her, hurt her. He shrank her universe down to the size of a pinhead and made her believe she had the world at her fingertips. It was all a sham, every single bit of it. 

Anger swirled in the pit of her stomach as she reached for Jungkook’s keys in the bowl by the door. 

Warm fingers wrapped around her wrist just before she could grab them. Jaw clenched, blood pressure spiking, she knew her gaze was cutting when she whipped around to see who dared to stop her. 

Jungkook’s doe eyes twinkled with something she couldn’t put her finger on. It disarmed her enough that she had to fight to keep her angry expression. It was useless.

“Why are you touching me?” she nearly whined.

His slight smile stretched wider, gaze soft. “How often are you going to steal my car before you go get your own vehicle like a big girl?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. She really didn’t have time for this. Jooheon would have her head if she was late. Tiredly, she scratched at her forehead and sighed, keys in hand. “I just need it for a couple of hours. I’ll get a new one soon, I promise.”

His grin widened further. It infuriated her how handsome he could be without trying. How he could make her heart stutter in her chest. She didn’t want to be lovestruck, she wanted to be furious with Jooheon. But the lopsided way he smiled and her inability to bury the memories of how he tasted made that increasingly difficult. 

He knew something she didn’t, and it didn’t help her shitty mood. 

“Come with me.”

“Jungkook, I really can’t. I have an appointment--”

“It can wait five minutes.”

He was already traipsing off towards the garage, a happy little skip in his step. Rather than fight him, Nari decided to go along with it. 

Before she could pass through the garage door, he turned towards her and gave a sheepish, anxious smile. “Close your eyes.”

“Seriously?” she laughed, rolling her eyes when he moved behind her and shielded her vision himself. Without her sight, her hands automatically drifted out in front of her. “You’re freaking me out a little bit.”

He cautiously began to lead her towards the garage, a breathless giggle sounding just behind her. “Don’t be freaked out.”

She shivered, a faint flush tinging her cheeks.

A moment later he was removing his hands from her eyes. “Ta-da!”

Nari blinked, adjusting to the sudden brightness. Her jaw dropped, eyes widening. “Holy shit--”

A motorcycle. The one she’d been wanting, similar to Tae’s. Matte black and sleek, like something out of Batman. 

“Jesus Christ, I kiss you one time and you buy me a fucking motorcycle?!” She choked, whipping around to give him a bewildered look. “Jungkook, what the hell did you do? How much money did you spend on this?”

He shrugged, obviously flustered by the way he fingered at his red ears. “I got tired of you stealing my shit.”

Shaking her head, she crossed her arms. “No. Absolutely not.”

“What do you mean no--?”

“I can’t accept this, Jungkook!” She gestured to the bike just a few feet away. “This isn’t just like-- a fucking bouquet of flowers! This is a lot of money!”

“Nari, I think you’re forgetting that I have money,” he sniggered, baffled. “Like. A lot of it.”

She sent him a look, stern. “What, do I get a yacht if I suck your dick?”

His laugh was loud and unabashed, head throwing back. 

She glared at him and took the keys from his hand. “I’m only accepting this because I have to be somewhere important and I’m running late. When I get home, we’re having a serious conversation.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

The world looked so much better when it was smeared before her at high speeds. Like art, like a painting. Shops and neighborhoods were streaks of color, all sounds faded to nothing but the consistent growl of the engine. Everything became so insignificant when she leaned down and zipped through the streets. The fear she felt to see Jooheon again melted away, left behind on the roads of Seoul. Exposed to the elements, she had wings. Riding a motorcycle was liberating, but actually driving one… She felt free for the first time in so long. 

The bike below her hummed, nearly purring at finally getting to stretch its muscles. It felt like both an extension of her and its own living entity.

Maybe she would have to thank Jungkook after all.

The park was empty and eerily still. The only person for what felt like miles was Jooheon, dressed in his usual sleek suit and gleaming shoes. He stuck out like a sore thumb, too dapper and put together for a place with rusting garbage cans and disk golf baskets. 

When he heard her approaching, his head snapped up, coal black eyes narrowing. His slicked back and inky hair seemed to shine even in the overcast afternoon. “You’re late.”

She checked her watch as she eased onto the picnic table’s bench across from him. Late by just two minutes. But two minutes was two minutes too long when she was already on thin ice with Jooheon. “I’m sorry. I was trying to get out the door, but Jungkook got me a gift, and I didn’t want to seem suspicious by being urgent.”

He nodded in the general direction of where her bike sat. “That your little gift?”

“Yes sir.” She didn’t dare look away from him. Hatred rolled her stomach and made her blood boil. Swallowing the urge to draw her gun and shoot him dead right then and there, she forced herself to be as truthful as she could. “He has feelings for me.”

“Did you fuck him to get there?” He asked, serious.

“No.”

“You should.” He was matter of fact. Like Jungkook wasn’t a person who deserved real love, like manipulating him should have been as easy as ordering coffee at Starbucks. ”You need to solidify that. Make him fall in love.”

She bit her tongue and clenched her fists below the table until her nails threatened to cut into her palms. “I plan on it. I’ve been in too long with too little payoff, I need to get as much information as I can so we can just end this shit.”

“You’ve given me almost nothing to work with.” He lit up a cigarette and carelessly blew smoke into the wind. “If you really wanted access to information, you’d fuck Min.”

Her jaw tensed. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll have to consider that.”

How dare he. Yoongi had been nothing but good to her, he’d been the only leader she’d ever known to show her what truth looked like. She wondered if he heard Jooheon say that through the wire under her shirt.

Black eyes locked with hers. “I expect real information this time.”

“Taehyung is shaken. He’s not at his best right now. The gala messed with his head.” The bullshit story she and Yoongi crafted rolled off her tongue with ease. Lies, but close enough to the whole truth that Jooheon wouldn’t ask too many questions. 

“Good.” He smirked. Cocky as he took a lazy drag from his smoke. “Fucker’s too good at his job. Maybe he’ll stay distracted this time.”

She wanted to strangle him.

“The meeting with Zhang went well,” she continued, somehow able to keep her composure despite the screaming desire to make him pay. “He agreed to help get our hands on enough guns to appease Choi. He’s shipping them straight to a dock in Busan. Min lost a shit ton of money in all this, Zhang only agreed because he would be getting sixty five percent of the money from Choi for the sheer inconvenience. Yoongi didn’t want to fight him and end up creating more bad blood, he has enough of that.”

She pulled a sheet of paper out of her pocket and placed it in the middle of the table. “Here’s some of the information for one of their accounts. I snuck back into Yoongi’s office and found some paperwork locked away in his safe. Nearly got caught, too, but I saved myself.”

He eyed the numbers carefully before folding the scrap of paper and hiding it away in his jacket pocket. “How much money is in this account?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. Yoongi gave her the information for one of their oldest accounts, one that had a large chunk of money, but not enough cash that would completely drain them. They had more money than Jooheon or her father would ever know, more than she would know. Jooheon was just arrogant enough to believe that they raked in less cash than Monsta X or Lotus. “I think he opened the account in 2014, so it’s probably got a decent amount of money. But who knows how much.”

Nodding slowly, he thought over her words. He flicked ash from his cigarette and gave a cold smile. “This is a good start. You’re finally making progress, and a decent leap at that.”

He took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. The sensation made her skin crawl. “This will all be over soon. They’ll be dead, and you’ll be on your way back home.”

She prayed the loathing in her gaze came across as excitement. “How much longer?”

“A few weeks,” he clipped. As he stood and adjusted his jacket, he barely gave her a second glance. “You should talk to a plastic surgeon about your face. That cut will scar, and I can’t have you looking like you’ve been so stupid as to get your head smashed on a counter for future jobs. You have to look perfect and nonthreatening.” 

She bit her tongue so hard she tasted blood. “Yes sir. I’ll talk to someone, I’d hate to look like someone had ever wanted to hurt me.”

He walked around the table and leaned down to grip her chin. “You’re finally doing your job. All it took was a big cock for you to act right. I’ll have to keep that in mind for the future.”

The next few days Nari spent fuming over the things Jooheon said to her. The way he spoke to her as if she were nothing, like what happened in the bathroom was nothing out of the ordinary. Truthfully, nothing had ever been normal between them. That was becoming more and more apparent the longer she was away from him. He was manipulative, cold, using her for his own gain. But the way he reacted at the gala was like he was losing it at the mere thought that he could lose all sense of control over her. 

He had always been terrible, but it was obvious that he was spiraling--slipping further into his darkness. Maybe he could feel that he was losing his grip on her despite her having every right to throw herself into seeming as if she were one of Bangtan. Sure, she had switched sides. But he had no way of knowing that. At least not for sure. 

In the Bangtan house, all had been quiet since they came home from Shanghai. No passive aggressive comments, no distrusting glances from Hoseok or Jimin. Yoongi carried on as normal, keeping all of his and Nari’s secrets tucked away. The others were none the wiser. 

Things with Jungkook were…good. It was almost dizzying how different things were when she was around him. After their kiss, he respected her space and didn’t push anything, but there was a constant lingering tension that left them hovering around each other without either of them ever acknowledging what had happened or Nari’s injuries. Mere days passed before one of them cracked, and it certainly wasn’t her. 

He came to her as she was on her laptop going through their records to see who still owed them money. In Yoongi’s words, she was to “make note of who needs their cages rattled.” They’d handle it at Cards the following week.

She didn’t notice Jungkook walk into the living room until Sora pranced in behind him, collar jingling and tongue hanging out of her mouth happily. He was dressed in nothing more than athletic shorts and a baggy t-shirt, but she couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering across his muscled frame. 

She ripped her gaze away and continued with her work.

Leaning down over the arm of the couch, he bit back a smile. “You’re very focused.”

The corners of her mouth twitched as she glanced up at him, blue light shining on her face from the screen. It didn’t take much to rid her facade. “And you’re very observant.”

He wanted something. She could tell. Whenever he wanted something, he had this excited energy like it was taking everything in his power to coolly and smoothly lead into his pitch. Eager and nearly vibrating, like an untrained puppy fighting the urge to jump on strangers. 

She narrowed her eyes in playful suspicion and slowly closed her laptop, crossing her arms. “You want something.”

He scoffed and made a dramatic show of looking around the room to find where on earth she would’ve been inspired to have such a thought, eyes twinkling and teeth on full display in a sly grin. “Who? Me?”

“You’re bursting at the seams. Out with it.”

There was a brief moment where he simply stared at her, gaze soft. It made her cheeks warm. “Are you hungry?”

Nari blinked, confused. Her eyes flickered to her plate on the coffee table where the crust of her sandwich from lunch less than an hour prior remained. 

Jungkook’s eyes quickly followed, widening as his cheeks flushed pink. “Oh. Uh--”

“I just ate. Um…why?”

His brow pinched, expression perturbed. 

Why was he looking at her that way? 

“Really?” He asked after a stretch of silence. His smile faltered the slightest bit, and she worried that she had done something to offend him. He shrugged then, gaze falling to the floor as he let out a strained chuckle. “Okay then.”

“What? What did I do?” 

“I just thought you might want to grab a bite with me,” he shyly muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. His weight shifted from foot to foot, unable to stay still. “You know…after the other night.”

Oh. 

Oh. 

She blinked in surprise, lips parting. He wanted to go out with her. On a date. Because they kissed, and he liked it. 

“Oh-- Oh. Oh my god--”

He waved her off and headed towards the kitchen, eyes never leaving the hardwood beneath his feet. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine, I just thought--”

“I’m not hungry,” she blurted, skin crawling in humiliation. “But I will be. Later. Tonight.”

His head snapped up, that beaming smile back on his face. “Yeah?”

Her face hurt from the way it grinned back at him. “Yeah.”

Strong, tattooed hands shoved themselves into his pockets as he nodded, pursing his lips in an amused line. “Cool.”

Later that night, she had to calm herself as she got ready. Which was dumb. She was an assassin, she shouldn’t turn to mush when a pretty boy with soft lips wants to take her on a date. But everything with Jooheon was so different, even when they were starting their relationship it was a part of work. They slept together to celebrate her first kill, and a few weeks after that he began treating her as his significant other. If he wanted to go out to dinner, he simply told her they were going out. There were no nervous smiles or giddy laughter. 

As she put on her lipstick, she realized Jooheon never even officially asked her to be his girlfriend. She just…was.

Fuck, was she nervous. She didn’t know why, she knew Jungkook wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. But clearly she didn’t know how to navigate any real romantic connection, and she really didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of him again. 

Which was also dumb. He was just a man. 

When she met him in the kitchen at 8pm sharp, he was leaned up against the countertop scrolling through his phone. As she entered, he glanced up, only to do a double take. Immediately, he tucked the device away into his pocket and stared at her with a look that could only be described as awe. 

“You look beautiful,” he breathed. The way her eyes nervously glanced down at her clothes, he immediately cleared his throat and collected himself. “You look nice.”

Thankful that he reeled it in a bit, she gestured to him across the way. “So do you, holy shit. You clean up nice.”

And she meant it. It was just a fitted button up tucked into ripped black jeans, but the perfect way his hair was swept off his face to reveal his dark brows led her to believe that he spent just a little too long standing in front of his closet and mirror to get it all right. 

The ride to the restaurant was awkward for all of ten minutes before Jungkook was blasting some bubblegum pop song and singing as loud as he could. At first it was clear he was trying to at least carry the melody, if not actually sing well for his own enjoyment. But once he realized she was paying attention, he started putting on a show. He sang passionately, voice cracking in tuneless, giggly shouts.

As she sat there grinning at him over the console, he glanced at her with both hands on the wheel and hollered over the music. “Come on, you don’t know this song?”

She never sang, never bellowed lyrics on a midnight drive as glowing street lights whirred by in neon smears. But something about the unbridled glee that illuminated his dark eyes made her join in. She barely knew the lyrics, but he didn’t seem to mind. The garbled way she shouted the melody in a string of vowels and misplaced consonants made him throw his head back and laugh, and that made the embarrassment worthwhile. 

It was hard to stay nervous when he had a way of dissolving tension. 

When they got to the restaurant, he opened both the car door and the front door of the establishment for her. It didn’t surprise her very much, just because of course he was a perfect gentleman. But even though she almost expected it, even though she wasn’t surprised, there was still a brief moment of her muttering out a flustered thank you. Unable to look at him longer than a brief second. 

It was a small place sandwiched between a cafe and a cosmetics store. One corner of the sign was dim, a single bulb blown after countless years. Through the window she could see other customers gathered around grills and drinking together, too caught up in meat and liquor to give a damn what happened beyond the entrance. It had been a while since she went out for barbecue, let alone somewhere that was such a little hole in the wall. 

Sitting across from him at the restaurant was almost bizarre. The only times she had ever been out with anyone in the last eight years, man or woman, was merely a precursor to killing them. Other than Jooheon, of course. Looking back, their outings were just for show. To flex his money and power. He never held the door open for her. Never gazed at her with soft eyes. He never even asked her what she wanted to eat or gave her the opportunity to decide what she wanted. 

It was in that moment that she realized she’d never been on a real date at all, and that brought the nerves that buzzed like electricity under her skin back full force. 

“This place isn’t super fancy, but their food is amazing,” Jungkook shyly said as he hungrily watched the group of older men one table over flip their pork belly with a mouthwatering sizzle. “I know you’ve probably had barbecue a million times, but--”

“I love barbecue.” Her lips twitched in a guilty smile. “I just have never manned the grill.”

His eyes widened, flickering to the waitress as she brought them their drinks. He thanked her, quickly turning his attention back to Nari. “You’re Korean and you’ve never cooked your own meat?”

“No, I haven’t, thank you very much.” She narrowed her eyes playfully. “I didn’t know it was required upon receiving your birth certificate.”

He took a sip of his beer. “Oh yeah. It’s definitely government mandated. There’s a card for it and everything.”

She rolled her eyes. “If you must know, I…I was never allowed. My ex was controlling.”

Curiosity bloomed in his gaze. She had never mentioned any past partners before. 

She couldn’t help but feel a weight lifted off her shoulders just from referring to him as her ex. Obviously he wasn’t aware she’d decided they were no longer a couple, but he’d find out soon enough. There was something liberating about keeping something for herself for now. 

Jungkook leaned his elbows on the table, not looking up when the waitress brought their meat. “And grilling was where he drew the line? That was his schtick?” 

“Everything was his schtick,” she deadpanned darkly, popping one of the complementary puffs into her mouth. “I wasn’t allowed to do most things.”

He sensed her change in tone. Sensed the subtle way she retreated into herself, into whatever memories of this ex plagued her. Maybe even haunted her. He knew she had some trauma--he just assumed it was all because of what happened to her mother. The thought that someone would control her, or would even be able to, baffled him. She was so strong, powerful. She commanded a room. 

Whatever asshole tried to control her was probably not one to be trifled with.

He took the tongs from the plate and slid around the booth to sit beside her. He held them out to her, brows lifting expectantly. “You wanna learn how?”

She stared down at the metal tongs. Something spread throughout her chest and crept up to make her throat tighten. Dark eyes peered up at him as she hesitantly took them. “Really?”

His hair bounced in an emphatic nod. “Absolutely. I’ll walk you through it all, you can do everything.”

Everything?

He must’ve taken her silence as disgust or maybe rejection, because after a moment he shrugged with pink cheeks. “Or not-- I mean. I can do it, I’d be more than happy to--”

“No.” She was thankful she managed to keep herself from getting teary at the small freedom offered to her. It felt so stupid, the whole thing. Not knowing how to do something so easy and that everyone else around her knew. The fact that that was something Jooheon tried to control in the first place. That she would let him have that much control to begin with. “Teach me. Please, I wanna do it.”

Jungkook taught her everything--when to cut the meat, when to flip it. Just the right amount of pork belly to put on the grill at a time. It was all so simple, she probably could have figured it out herself if given enough time. But what mattered was that he let her do it. He gave her the reins and merely directed her, always gentle, always warm. He never made her feel like a child for not knowing how to do something that seemed to be common knowledge. His toothy grin was ever present, encouraging her.

They sat thigh to thigh in the booth, laughing and eating together. It felt so normal. Not at all like just days prior they were in a standoff with seven wolves and praying they made it out alive. Like they were just two people, each intrigued and enthralled by the other’s presence. 

He tried to feed her a lettuce wrap, his own cheeks stuffed round and bulging as he held it out to her. 

She cut her eyes at him in exasperation. “Now what about me says that I’m a woman who likes to be fed?”

He nearly choked on his food, that endearingly ugly laugh slipping out for all to hear as he covered his mouth and put the wrap back on his plate. After he swallowed, he shrugged and wiped his hands. “I dunno, I thought you’d like it.”

Nari took a drink, soju burning all the way down to her stomach. She smirked. “That’s your move, isn’t it?”

“My move?”

“The thing you do to really make the ladies go wild on a first date.”

His head tilted guiltily, tongue rolling against the inside of his cheek as he pushed up his sleeves. He gestured lazily, holding back a laugh as his arm draped across her shoulders. “Not just ladies, I don’t discriminate.”

She was surprised by his honesty. Not because he should keep that information secret--hell, she was the same. But it was something they’d never discussed openly before. It was probably just the alcohol in his system making him loose-lipped, but he hadn’t drank much at all. A part of her deep down hoped that maybe, just maybe, he felt safe around her.  

She grinned and crossed her legs. “And how well does this usually work out for you, lover boy?”

“Fifty-fifty.”

Grimacing, she leaned back against the seat and relished in the warmth of his skin radiating into her frame. “Sounds like you need a new move.”

Looking down at her with an amused smile, his gaze flickered briefly from her lips to her eyes. They shone in the overhead lighting, as bright and sparkling as the night sky. If she looked hard enough, she could just make out the Big Dipper. There was a brief pause that made her stomach climb up into her mouth. His face was so close to hers. 

Lowly, he murmured, “Maybe you’ll have to give me some ideas.”

The ride back to the apartment was painfully tense. Nari felt like her body was on fire. It took everything in her to hold herself together, and that was something she’d never experienced before. She’d felt desire, but never…this. It was excruciating, and she knew it would end badly. Jungkook didn’t know the truth, and she couldn’t let this go further than it already had until he did. Going on a date with him was a mistake, it was selfish of her to go when so much of her was still hidden from him. He would feel differently about her when he knew, she couldn’t let it escalate. She felt bad enough. 

Initially, the ride home was tense because of how he looked at her like she could do no wrong. Because his hands were strong but gentle. Because of the lazy, lopsided, crooked smile he wore as he spoke. The way his dark hair swept off his forehead and behind his ears. But the realization that acting on any of that tension before telling him what she was would be misleading and deceptive quickly shifted the tension from sexually charged to a stiff silence. 

She stared out the window and cursed herself for the pain she would eventually cause him.

As they approached the door to the penthouse, Jungkook gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist as she began punching in the keycode as soon as it was within reach. Worry creased his brow, lips parted as he tried to find the right words. 

She waited, gave him the time to piece together his thoughts. 

“Are you okay?”

It caught her off guard, the genuine concern in his voice. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He let her go, hand instead rubbing at the back of his neck. Broad shoulders raised and dropped in an uncertain shrug. “I dunno. You just got really quiet. I just thought we both were having fun, and then it was like… I don’t know, like nobody was home.”

She couldn’t fight the thaw in her facade. 

Softening, she gave a small, reassuring smile. “I had a great time, Jungkook. Promise.”

The tension in his shoulders eased a bit, a subtle and almost imperceptible sigh of relief breathing out through his nose. He bit his lower lip with hopes to contain his smile, nodding as his eyes looked at anything but her. His hands made their way into his pockets as he let a teasing grin slowly spread across his handsome face. “Me too. Even if my move didn’t work on you.”

Awkward, hesitant, she leaned closer and craned her neck to press her lips to his cheek. 

The moment her pink lips met his warm skin, her heart skipped. The proximity of him, his warmth. It made something in her defenses lower. It made her crumble. The familiar scent of eucalyptus and his cologne made her linger there, fighting the urge to touch him. To taste him. To do what she wanted.   

He turned his head when he sensed her hesitation, lips suddenly a breath away from hers. Smile fading as his eyes grew heavy lidded. The air was thick and heavy with everything left unsaid. The entryway seemed all too silent, the walls even holding their breath in wait. Any noise could tip the scales, jerk them back to reality. 

He seemed to draw her to him like a magnet, that invisible pull that’s unquestionable and undeniable. She felt that tug just beneath her ribs. She wanted so badly for things to be different. To be able to just give in without second thought. To live without that shadow lingering in the back of her mind and controlling her thoughts. Influencing her happiness. 

Tattooed hands freed themselves from his pockets just so he could gently brush a strand of hair from her face. She felt herself let him. Let him tuck her hair and softly carress her cheekbone with the backs of his fingers. She let him slowly, cautiously walk her back until she arched into his chest from the chill of the wall as it nipped at all her exposed flesh. He was so warm, it was like standing on the sun.

Their breaths mingled, parted lips catching on each other as they restrained themselves. Neither was courageous enough to take that next step, to take the plunge. They hovered there in the painstaking, magnetic abyss--noses brushing each other, eyes fluttering closed. Her hands slid up his chest, and he sighed at her touch. Her touch alone literally drew breath from his lungs. It set her ablaze, made her ache.

Strong hands drifted down her sides and made her shiver, so patient in their slow descent. One anchored at her waist to ground her. The other slid up her neck, burning hot and scorching her eager, sensitive skin.

When he kissed her, dread swirled in her stomach. She couldn’t do this. As much as she wanted to, as good as he was, he had to know the truth first. He deserved that.

At the faint brush of his lips, Nari pulled back, heart hammering in her chest.

The spell was broken by the sharp, unforgiving prick of reality’s thorn. The walls sighed in disappointment, all air rushing back into the world. Stale and stagnant.

As if he knew it was coming, Jungkook rested his forehead on hers in defeat. 

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” she whispered with a small, apologetic smile. 

Without another word, she unlocked the door and went inside without him.

[alluringjae]

until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome​ (dm me if you want to be added) 

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

 To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

 Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

 Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

 (Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

 Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

 A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down.  Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

 I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

 Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

[pale-silver-comb]

So I know absolutely nothing about Leverage except what I've been seeing you post lately and I have to admit you're making it look tempting to watch! Can I ask what are some of your favorite things about the show/reasons you would suggest people watch it? And is there really a poly relationship that is canon?

Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I am going to do my best not to just “asdfghkjl” at you and answer coherently.

In a nutshell, Leverage is about 5 people. 4 are criminals (Parker, Hardison, Eliot and Sophie) with different and unique skill-sets and 1 is an ex-insurance investigator (Nate) who, at one point or another in his career, has tracked down (or at least attempted to) the other 4. The whole show is essentially: man reluctantly reforms 4 criminals to use their criminal powers for good and 4 criminals move into man’s life and stubbornly refuse to leave because, goddammit, now they have morals. 

I’ve got a lot of favourite things about the show but the main ones are as follows:

1. Found family. And I’m not talking about loners who come together to fight crime and happen to co-exist to the point where they realise they happen to have found themselves a family. I mean, Nate and Sophie are the Drunk Uncle and Wine Aunt who somehow become Mom and Dad to 3 beautiful criminal children. Mom and Dad love their criminal babies and the kids love them (as well as each other, but we’ll come to that in a moment). You get amazing family moments such as: Mom and Dad packing the kids lunch before sending them out to kick corporate greed’s ass; Mom and Dad giving the kids ridiculously expensive and personal Christmas presents causing their most Grumpy Kid to go very very quiet and soft as he runs off to gleefully play with his new murder toy; the kids interrupting Mom and Dad’s big Movie Style Kiss to ask if they can please keep their new underground layer and huffing and puffing when Dad tells them no.

2. Found family: the OT3 edition. To answer your question, the OT3 is indeed canon, confirmed by the creator. Now, usually, “confirmed by the creator” infuriates me because most of the time it’s a way for a creator to be seen as “progressive” without doing anything to actually be progressive. That isn’t the case here. The OT3 are built up carefully and while it is obvious the creators didn’t originally intend for all 3 of them to become a relationship in the romantic sense, by mid-season 5 we are given a very clear picture of where Parker, Hardison and Eliot are heading in their relationship. There aren’t any kisses at the end to signal this but there are solid marriage vows in not only one but two episodes. (And by marriage vows I mean literal equivalents of marriage vows: “for better or worse” and “’til death do us part”. I’m not even exaggerating). The OT3 also doesn’t need explicit romantic narratives to convey how much they love each other. Their love is laced through the whole show, from the way they teach each other things to the way they respond to each other and work as a unit. The way they fiercely protect and admire each other. Like someone once said, if you need characters to kiss or say I love you to let the audience know they love each other, you are writing them wrong. 

Aside from that, each of the parings in the OT3 are just. Gah. They are so well done, with friendship being the solid basis for them all. The creators never expect the audience to assume anything about them or fill in the gaps. They give us their relationships on screen and reference many things off-screen to show us how these relationships continue to build in between episodes.

Hardison and Parker are a canon couple and date in the show: it’s approached slowly and they are so goddamned sweet. They are basically every fluffy slow-burn trope with a healthy dash of mutual pining in the mix. They are basically that quote “love is patient, love is kind”. (I would like to add their romance never becomes the focus of the show or overrides the importance of any other relationship they have with the other characters, especially Eliot.)

Hardison and Eliot are the Old Married Couple and from day one are already bickering and looking at each other/making comments that are found in every UST fic ever (not to mention Hardison has a very good knack for making Eliot grin like a little kid, when usually he’s basically an Angry Little Chef Man). They argue, they play, and love each other plain as day. 

Parker and Eliot are more subtle but every bit as wonderful. They have an unspoken connection and understand each other on a level no-one else can. Parker and Eliot are not good with giving themselves over to affection for different reasons (and Hardison plays a central role in helping them realise it’s okay to want it and have it- that boy has endless patience) but there is something so beautiful in the way the two of them come together on their own and develop their own special bond that works for them. Parker and Eliot are that trope where the characters don’t need to speak to understand each other perfectly. They just do. Their love language is a lot of the time non-verbal but speaks volumes. (Parker also likes to annoy the hell out of Eliot and Eliot....just.....lets...her. Because he’s soft. The softest, grumpiest boy.) 

I could go into so much depth for each pairing and their dynamics as a 3 but that's for another post.

3. Subverting stereotypes. There is the occasional hiccup in the show regarding stereotypes but ultimately, Leverage gets an A+ when it comes to writing characters and making them 3 dimensional people who are not defined by certain characteristics or events. Nate could so easily fall into the White Man Pain trope where he uses the trauma of losing his kid as a reason as to why he is entitled to act like a dick. Nate is a dick but he doesn’t use his pain to excuse it and I appreciate that. Hardison is a black man who is soft and nurturing. Easily the most empathetic and patient of the group. He’s nerdy, an actual genius, and has the biggest heart of all the characters. Nate is maybe the glue but Hardison is definitely the heart. Media’s usual aggressive, amongst other, racist stereotypes can fuck right off. Parker is canonically autistic (I am sure this was confirmed by one of the creators) and she is not defined by it. It’s not written as some kind of singular personality trait. It’s part of what makes up Parker but it’s only one facet of who she is and not once is her actions, thoughts or feelings treated like a joke. Sometimes people don’t understand why she does and says the things she does but it’s met with patience and fondness over the course of the show. Equally, it’s not met with over-caution. Parker is just Parker. No-one tries to change her. The other nice thing is Hardison, who always makes sure Parker knows she’s amazing because of who she is and not in spite of it. Finally, Sophie is in her 40s. She’s not treated like she’s past her prime. Ever. She’s sexy, smart and never is she pitted against or compared to Parker (who is younger) for anything. Sophie is amazing and there’s never even a conversation of “I may be older but I am still *insert adjective typically associated with younger women here*”. Sophie is possibly the first female character I’ve ever seen who isn’t just unapologetic about her age but has never had to apologise for her age. It’s a non-issue and that’s that. The women on the show are written so well, right down to secondary characters and it’s beyond refreshing.  

4.) It’s just fun. The show has a “monster of the week” type format. Except instead of a ghoul or a ghost, the monster is some corrupt wealthy and powerful individual or organisation. The show draws on real-life individuals to do this and therefore closely parallels real-life people and events. It addresses important political, economical, social and environmental issues while at the same time remaining fun and light-hearted. The characters constantly get the chance to play dress up and by GOD do they have fun with it. You get to watch Eliot beat up bad guys in the most delightful of ways, usually after a witty non-sequitur and with a weapon you’d never think could be a weapon. The dialogue and back and forth between the characters is everything. And finally - my favourite thing- the team can never resist striking a dramatic pose after they’ve taken down the bad guy, making sure the bad guy sees them. I mean, they COULD just walk away, satisfied they’ve taken the person down, but nope. They gotta be dramatic bitches 24/7 and pose like they are models for every single month of this year’s Criminal Calendar.  

5.) Competence Porn. So. Much. Competence Porn.  

Honestly, I could list a thousand reasons for why Leverage is amazing but to list them would to be spoiling so many amazing moments you’d get to discover for the first time on your own if you do choose to watch it. It’s the kind of show you can watch with an eagle-eye and sink your teeth into. But it’s also the kind of show if, you would prefer, put on in the background for something entertaining while you do something else. Each episode is about the job at hand but it’s made up of so many moments between the characters that show how much the creators and writers care about them. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll do whatever it is you do when something Soft and Wonderful happens that makes your heart melt. I am so beyond grateful for Leverage. It’s everything I always wanted in a show. Nearly every show I’ve watched in the past 10 years has disappointed me in some way, usually either because the writers run out of steam or characters who I love are treated poorly or given some kind of unnecessary “shock value” arc. Leverage doesn’t do that. Leverage is what it says on the bottle. Fandom isn’t something I joined because I needed canon fix-its. Fandom only enhances and celebrates an already excellent canon. 

[dropofgoldensun]

omg hiiiii i am here from cat (@luvdsc) wondering if you could offer any advice about college apps 🙏 especially about the uc piqs? thank you so much i hope ur doing well!!!!!!!!

yes yes hello friend !! 💝 miss cat directed you to me because i did my college apps last year !!! (yikes one year passed already?? why does that feel ages ago 🤧)

first of all, congratulations on making the decision to apply to college !! i know it’s been hard for a lot of people our age to figure out the college situation recently, so i’m proud of you for choosing to take the extra step this summer to buckle up and write those essays 💞

i’ve compiled a few tips on answering the PIQs (i was actually in the middle of typing this up when i received your ask haha), but some of them can be applied to other essays, as well !! they’re all under the cut (because, unfortunately, being brief is not my forte) 😊

(and for reference, the prompts i chose were #2 (creativity), #6 (subject), #7 (community), and #8 (anything) !!)

tip #1: understand the prompt.

before you even begin writing, it’s important to understand what the question is really asking. for the UC PIQs, this will look different depending on which four prompts you decide to do.

in question one, for example, they want to know about your skills in leading others, but notice that they’re also curious about your resolution abilities and teamwork experience. or in question two, they don’t want to know that you paint and that you love painting—they could be asking how resourceful you are, how you think outside the box when you have an idea.

once you know the question you’re going to be answering, you can move on to brainstorming!

tip #2: write down three (3) key takeaways.

these are like the most basic, not-even-a-sentence answers you would give to each question. so for me, in response to question eight (“what do you believe makes you stand out as a strong candidate for the UCs?”), my answers were perseverance, courage, and character. i had a story about that, so i wrote about my experience with martial arts.

i recommend you do something similar. decide on three things that you want to communicate to your audience, and write them in the footnote of your document. your goal is to cover all three points so that, if anyone were to read your essay, they would walk away understanding those three things about you.

i found this strategy really helpful for keeping my essay streamlined while writing—if a sentence didn’t relate to any of those main points, i would cut it since those words would take up valuable space in the word count. stay focused on what needs to be in this essay, and if you have extra words left in the word count later, you can add those details back in.

and once you’re done with your essay, make sure to refer back to your takeaways and check that you covered all of them sufficiently!

tip #3: highlight your stories.

i sent cat an ask a couple days ago with a few pictures of my response to an end-of-year college counseling survey that referenced this tip (you can find it here). basically i said that, when choosing what topics to write about, pick things that interest you! if you get excited talking about it, your audience should get excited about reading it, because they’ll pick up on the passions you have and then everyone’s excited !!! :D

i’ll tell you a secret: everyone you meet, everyone you see, has countless unique experiences that few others may have. me? i spend hours making mashups out of kpop songs. i earned my black belt years after a traumatizing experience during training. i get russian harry potter and spanish dr. seuss books from the library. and i created a collaborative online google photos album for my classmates that now has thousands of entries. although these aren’t necessarily unique to only me, they’re still special enough to the point where, when you put them all together, you get a better image of the person i am, and what i value.

so find a story, a habit, a hobby that makes you different, because i believe that everyone has them. give them some food for thought, or that one-liner that sticks in their brain and won’t go away. and remember: these stories don’t all have to be extraordinary—they should be about people or moments of special value to you, because that’s what matters.

personal tip: when i was brainstorming ideas, i decided that the best way to get ideas out there was to go on a rant (because sometimes it helps to just have a conversation with yourself !!) and i recorded myself, so i could replay what i said !! this was so so crucial to me finding my own voice for writing essays. notice the way you word things when you talk—a good line or two may make it into the final draft :)

i found it helpful to read sample essays as well! they give a lot of great ideas on the kinds of topics people write about. (also, it’s kind of fun, because who doesn’t love a good story?)

but the people reading your essay won’t be there to just enjoy your story; what they really want you to do is to tell them what you learned from your experience. they want to know whether you’re teachable and willing to grow both as a student and as a young adult. so make sure to take note of the life lessons you learned, experience you gained, character you built, etc.

minor tip on ending your essay: if you’re telling a story that happened in the past, then close with what you learned and how you can apply that to your life moving forward. if you’re telling a story that has no definite end yet (like a passion or dream you have), you probably don’t have everything figured out (and you can say that in your essay!), so it might be better to close with your hopes for the future.

tip #4: ask your family for help.

peer-editing is one of the most effective ways to detect errors and inconsistencies in your writing, because, after staring at your essay for so long, you might gloss over glaring contradictions. for all of my essays, i printed them out and asked my parents to help me revise them. we’d meet every other night (or every night, depending on how much time was left) to review and discuss improvements.

i actually kept some of those printed drafts (only the first and the final ones for comparison), and let me tell you from experience—you’re probably going to have a lot of drafts (i think the most i did was seven? but you don’t need to go that far!). this part of the process does take some time, so remember to be patient and kind to yourself :) these essays won’t happen overnight!

enlisting the help of others also helps keep you accountable. one of the struggles many seniors face while writing essays is just... setting aside time to do them. and even though the constant reminders from your parents will definitely get repetitive and a bit stress-inducing, i can tell you from personal experience that i’m so glad they did; otherwise, i don’t think i’d have my essays done in time :’)

while writing college essays is challenging, your family will be there supporting you each step of the way. chances are that they’ll have their own pointers to pass on to you, since they probably remember doing this process themselves! and, out of everyone in your life, they probably remember the most about you (because you probably don’t remember much when you were four or five), so they might have a couple starter ideas for topics when brainstorming. you can rely on them for their advice and their experience.

tip #5: self-editing.

here’s the part that takes the longest time.

use action words. this is probably something you’ve heard all throughout elementary school where they didn’t like you to say “said” because it was “boring”… but honestly, the difference between “doing my own version” and “infusing it with my personality” could go a long way. also, use words that you would actually use in an essay—then it’ll have your own special flair, and not sound like it’s taken from some stuffy 80s textbook!

here are some of the words i used (once again, you shouldn’t use these words if they don’t sound like something you’d write/say): potential, overlay, wrestle, launch, analogous, weave, infuse, experiment, outlet, revel, fascinate, satisfaction, pursue, expand, distinction, capture, range, archive, engage, beyond, build, adversity, cultivate, preserve, commit, explore, convey, naturally

also, be on the lookout for repeated words. i once wrote an essay without noticing that i used “hope” three times in the same paragraph. don’t do that! use synonyms :) personally, i tended to run short on synonyms, so i always kept a tab or two open on my computer reserved for searching up new words.

side note: unfortunately, during my search for synonyms, i discovered that thesaurus.com just didn’t give me what i was looking for. i highly recommend using wordhippo instead; it has so many more options and they’re grouped by the different definitions of your word! i found the synonyms i needed really quickly and it was very satisfying!

avoid the passive voice! my teacher gave me this tip for theses or any other college-level writing. here’s an example of the passive voice: “there was a large part of me that wanted to turn back.” that’s twelve words taking up precious space in your word count! instead, say something like, “i considered turning back.” you’ve just freed up eight words :)

tip #6: final revisions.

this is the step where you fine-tune your essays. meet that word count.

read your writing out loud. does it sound like you? it should. every writer has a different voice, and you need to ensure that yours is pervasive throughout your essay. feel free to use contractions—not only do they reduce your word count (this was a good thing for me, since i had a problem with getting under 350 words), but they also give a more casual tone to your essay, as if you’re telling a story to someone in the room.

next, pretend to be an admissions officer and have someone else read your essay to you. do you get excited hearing about this student who shares your name? if you do, there’s a good chance the real admissions officers will love your essays, too. this also gives you a chance to review to your essay as a whole. pay attention to the overall flow. is there a clear beginning and end? do you resolve the issues and overcome the trials you brought up? listen to it as if it’s a story, and take this time to enjoy what you’ve written. you worked hard!

final thoughts / encouragements.

oh my goodness, did we make it to the end? honestly if you did, thank you so much 🥺

okay but despite my relatively optimistic tone throughout this post, i’m still going to be honest with you—the college essay writing process is difficult. it requires you to look inside yourself and analyze the “why” behind some of the things that you love, and that isn’t easy to do at all. it’s intellectually and emotionally challenging, because not only do you need to use so much energy writing, but you also have to dig deeper to understand yourself, and that’s not easy, either.

but i wanted to encourage you, too. no matter what you may think of yourself at 12am, 2am, 4am writing these essays, believe you have a personality that others love and will love when they meet you. you are an interesting person with unique experiences who deserves to share your thoughts with others. you have so many people behind you, supporting you during these next few months. and when you find that you can’t write any more, remember to take time to care for yourself. have a warm shower. go to bed early. i could go on and on about why sleep is good for your brain but i’ll spare you the details in this post 😉

one last thing: keep the bigger picture in focus. remember, by december or january, you will be finished with most of the application process. that’s no small accomplishment. you can do it. 💝

i really hope you found tips that you were looking for, and that they’re applicable to your own PIQs and other essays !! if you have any other questions, feel free to send in another ask (i promise my response won’t be this lengthy LOL) 💘💓

oh, and if you feel comfortable enough reaching out about anything in particular, i’m only a DM away 💕 i wish you the best of luck on writing your essays and i hope you enjoy your final year of high school !! 💗🌸💟💖

[legionofpotatoes]

I love your art, it is very detailed in a neat way. Was wondering how you got started making it as a source of income? How did you get your first paid work, I'd love some advice on how to get started, if that's ok

Thank you. Of course it's okay, although I doubt I have enough work experience in art to really delve into this. I only went full freelance this year, and had been juggling art as a side hobby until then. If you're still interested in my somewhat narrow perspective, and are okay with my long-winded rambles, I'll give it a shot:

So to answer your question fully, I'll describe how I started and move into personal advice and learnings later on. As a disclaimer, I am a white cishet dude in my late twenties with a moderate cocktail of mental illnesses, but overall I can pass for a functioning adult so a lot I have to say may come laced with privilege I cannot fully identify.

So uhh I began drawing in around 2012? I think? Maybe halfway through 2011? And I mostly made fanart for things I enjoyed and tried to branch out in communities that felt nourishing to my style and interests (I caught a bug for alt posters and enjoyed mainstream movies so I spent a long time on posterspy early on). There were a handful of opportunities that came from there but I could only accept a couple because of primary workplace commitments. Still, it showed that networking in a focused community was definitely a good place to start; I myself have huge trouble committing to social networks and really staying socially active, but I knew it was an essential ingredient in succeeding so I tried to make myself be involved in challenges and art support trains etc. as much as I could.

In parallel to all that I also ran a few third party online stores (redbubble, teepublic) for disposable income and would sometimes, if rarely, hit around $100-150 a month from those sources combined. It is a sort of thing that requires helper accounts on other social media sites to promote it on, because the stores themselves have a huge volume of content that translates into low organic discoverability. Obviously it was never gonna be the way towards financial independence through art, and with community projects being few and far between, I opened private commissions in around uhhh 2017 I think, focusing on offering a few styles I knew I could do well, and sometimes operating in individual fandoms (it was mostly a bioware thing to be frank). But I had to close them back down after a year or so, again because of work-life conflict and how badly it was burning me out. The reason I kept trying to monetize this hobby is because I honestly hated what I did for my main job and wanted to see a way out in some shape or form in the future.

And then in 2020 I had to quit my main job altogether because of *gestures at pandemic* and deal with a mental breakdown from all the wonderful things it did to us and me specifically. I took a short break and decided to give art a shot full-time, and that was around May this year. I was planning on opening up commissions again (and I still am), but a few sudden opportunities that fell in my lap moved that timetable down and now I'm grateful to even be doing something I am getting adequately paid for.

So, with that somewhat limited perspective, here's what I've learned that I'd tell myself if I was just starting out:

1. Being a fan of something can be a shortcut towards effective networking kickoffs. Which are important evidently. If you love something and enjoy making content for it, join communities, settle into a combination of social media websites that feel right for those interests + your body of work + your inner rhythm, and try to play to content discovery as much as your mental health allows you to. Like I said, I know that I myself am incredibly bad at self-motivating to talk to people, so I found that synergizing common interests into fanart - which I enjoyed making anyway - could be a way to give myself a gentle nudge forward and build those bridges leading to community activities, which then net experience and coverage. Sometimes even freelance projects from official avenues. Again; picking the right spaces for what you're after is key. Companies roam twitter, concept art recruiters scour artstation or linkedin etc, instagram can land you private commissions and collab opportunities, so on and so forth. Find your niche and try to kick up dust. However...

2. I do not believe that any social profile can replace a good portfolio. The thing that made an immediate difference to me this year was building a coherent, simple website with my best work front and center and a contact form on top. Every single opportunity I got came from that form (maybe via twitter or instagram initially, but always sealing the decision after going through the website), so I firmly believe that showcasing your skills and portfolio in a visually arresting and user-friendly way is a big priority. I had some reservations about tackling that task but fortunately I had help from a savvy life partner and we slapped it together via wordpress in less than a day. Twitter/whatever social media is prevalent in your target groups is definitely important to get the right eyes on your shit, yes, but those eyes will then look for a second stop where your work and rates are more clear and concise. Simplicity is key imo, I cannot overstate this. So make a cute, simple portfolio!

3. Your skills and rates will grow and change as you do. Let them. Over the years I built several lasting professional relationships from my obsession over mass effect and kept getting opportunities both from bioware and their partner companies, some small and some a bit bigger. A one-off job earlier this year opened an unexpected door to another much larger commitment, and then the work I did there brought some attention from small businesses looking for commercial commissions. These were all incredibly different projects in terms of scope and budget, and I've been tackling them all on a case-by-case basis and slowly coming into my own irt my needs, rates, and SOW thresholds. It is still a work in progress (and a LOT of literal work as well), and very much a thing I struggle with in publicly marketing, which is why I felt a tad underqualified to answer your question in the first place (obviously I did not let that stop me). But what it means for me now is that I am rapidly developing into whatever my "version" of a functioning freelance artist is, and when the conditions for that guy are met, I need to be able to confidently plant myself and operate from that space despite past precedents. Do not let anyone bully you into downpricing what you yourself perceive as legitimate products of personal growth and development. Speaking of which...

4. The shitty challenge of turning envy into inspiration, and paddling outside your comfort zones in full riot gear. it is hard, but realizing that being a miserable, self-hating artist in my early days got me nothing but more misery back was the first real step I took and what truly blew the hinges off. I was just not pleasant to be around, I would badmouth my work all the time, and it all somehow made sense in my broken mind because the validation I sought was purely external and the way I sought it was through eliciting sympathy via self-victimization (even when I made something objectively nice). It all led fucking nowhere. Except perhaps to my own narcissism that I one day managed to identify and start managing. So I started looking at things that made me seethe with envy and calmly deconstruct and figure out their inner workings instead, do studies, and find nuggets of inspiration or discover new ways to approach rendering or building up specific elements. It was an application of analytical diligence to what I wanted to be a purely emotional, esoteric workflow, but that I deep down knew wasn't. Art is a discipline and a skill, and maybe it isn't a straight line, but you gotta find some line to thread nevertheless. Being self-hating was almost an identity I had to break out of, and despite it still being like, 4-5% there? I realize its cause and effect on me, my work, and those around me, so it is with a conscious choice that I gently set it aside when I work and especially when I learn. It won't always stay quiet, but the effort is the difference. Your doors towards accepting true growth and venturing into uncharted territories, art styles, and networking will really open from there. But there's a huge caveat...

5. Toolsets, accessibility, privilege, and all the good things that enable artistic expression and profitability are not given equal to all. you might do all the mental work I mentioned to be ready to rock and roll and learn and draw your way out of anything, but digital art is a fucking money pit that asks almost too much at times. I don't got a good case study here but identifying and ensuring accessibility to the tools you need to do your best work is, like, super important. The ergonomics can improve as you make money and settle into the job, but the basics have to be made available to you. And some of that might not even be under your direct control. That can be anything from pen tablets to software subscriptions to opportunities in hiring sullied by sexism or what have you. You gotta navigate all that through careful networking and money/time management. I don't do a good job of devoting specific slices of time to work/study, and my primary clutch is iPad software which went from a good deal to a nightmare scenario over the years. So all I can say here is do what I didn't; network, invest in a PC/tablet, and pick a software you'll learn that won't burn a hole in your pocket.

6. Be nice to work with? This one is hard to articulate and has landed my own ass in hot water in my early years because of how socially inept I am, but nothing is more worthwhile than being.. like. a good person to work with. That can be anything like meeting deadlines, or sometimes missing them but eloquently articulating why, being generous in early stages, being communicable and not too wordy in your emails, having a good grasp on abstract artistic concepts and how to describe them in simple terms, having a clear, laid out framework of your working rates in commercial and non-commercial projects and sticking to those guns with grace, understanding when you need to say no and saying it well, the works. Just being nice. Sometimes that might mean going headstrong with something you believe in, or simmering down and sucking up to the big man, all relative and adaptive. Part and parcel of the service provision dance that we all have to do in order to make bank. Know your lines here, obviously, and don't like. work for nazis. or uh.. *shudders* exposure. but be nice and empathetic and communicable and word will travel eventually. Skill may be in abundance these days, but good people are most certainly not, and capitalism has a way of bubbling up scarcity. Grim, but uh, them's the breaks.

I know I'm ultimately telling you to like. Have a body of work, make a portfolio, grow, and network. But that's really how I see it for now. And being nice can be a cherry on top that sets you apart, along with the inherent irreplaceable voice of your artwork. I think I rambled on enough, but if there is something specific you need my help with, even if you want to come off anon and talk in private, please feel free.

[feysandandnyx]

You can say what you want, but Feyre will always be better than your sisters, starting with the fact that if Feyre hadn't forgiven you, you wouldn't have a book of your favorite to piss off. Preferring something is really subjective, you don't have to like a character even though he is the main character in the book. I've liked a lot of backers, Feyre is an exception and I've liked a lot of defective characters, I have no problem with that. But I never romanticized Nesta. I admit that she did some positive things, but I always found this badly built, as if Sarah didn’t know what to do with it. And honestly, if you think this character is complex you urgently need to expand your reading skills. She may be a different character, but to say that Nesta is complex in the first place is wanting to not recognize how abusive she was to Feyre, something that Sarah herself seems to have backed off in the end. Nesta's relationship with Feyre was not just a fight between sisters.

Nesta left a negative mark on Feyre that even the Feyre fighter needs to overcome. When you feel humiliated by someone to the point that it makes you feel less important, then we are not talking about a healthy relationship. Most cases of abuse occur among family members. So I will always say that Feyre would be more than justified in not wanting anything more with his sisters. Is Feyre a perfect character? No. She is far from being. But she is not obliged. It shouldn't be. She should not be forced to forgive people who have always taken good advantage of her and who have never done anything for her. The fact that Elain and Nesta helped in the war is a good thing, but the war was everyone's duty. They could have refused and died in the end. And it is necessary to highlight the role of Elain here, because if it weren't for Elain, Nesta would not have accepted to help Feyre even knowing what that meant. So I'm going to go back to my point to justify why I think Nesta is a character who actually suffers from a bad build and that Sarah tried to save at any cost in the end.

1- She spent the whole life sitting, 10 years, hating Feyre and waiting for her father to do something. But the narrative itself states that her father was crippled and that he developed some kind of trauma that made him apathetic. So, why do you expect such a person to go into a forest to hunt? Could he have tried other things? Yes. But you should also understand that it was limited.

2 - She lived with Feyre for 10 years without realizing that Feyre did not know how to read, but calling her ignorant and savage. How's that? You are built as a character who likes to read. Do you have a sensitivity for that and you didn't understand the basics? How old was Feyre when you were poor? How many years was your education considered complete and satisfactory when you were a few years older? Justifying that you didn't notice it to make you look better had the opposite effect, as it only showed how negligent you were. You weren't obliged to teach Feyre how to read, but you at least could have realized that she couldn't. She would have shown that at least you cared. It wasn't months or years of poverty, it was a decade. So you spent years calling Feyre ignorant and filthy and you never realized how bad she felt about it? So you are so good at discovering people's weaknesses and using it against them?

3 - Elain tries to justify the way she and Nesta were negligent with Feyre with: we had no skills and we didn't receive adequate training just for us to find out in addition that Feyre taught Nessa how to use a bow and even then she didn't move.

4 - it is useless to want to justify that the three were children. They were, in fact, the fault of the father of the three, but as I already pointed out, not without a reason. However, you and I know that Nesta's characterization would take you to that forest if it were for Elain. There would be no age, his mother's shadow or his father's hatred. She would have gone. She always prioritized Elain, including leaving Feyre alone with her father while he was assaulted and she hid with Elain

5 - Repentance? do not. She spent the rest of the years hating Feyre and spending her money on ribbons and boots she didn't need, again ignoring the rags her sister wore. And the narrative implied that Feyre really tried to argue about that, but her opinion didn't matter, there was always an urgency between Elain and Nesta for their futility to be attended to

6 - Don't try to discredit Feyre's point of view about Nesta when you are the first to isolate the positive points that Feyre spoke about his sister, for why show how much "complex" Nesta is

7 - Nesta's justification for Feyre about spending her money (stealing Feyre), was that she knew Feyre could get more. Nesta completely ignores how Feyre needed to risk his life in the forest every time she felt she could spend her money on new boots because "Feyre could get more". And how were you upset with her to the point of treating her badly because she was doing something when her father didn't and at the same time you stole her because you knew she would get more ?????

8 - It is sad to know that Feyre always needs to die or be kidnapped in order for Nesta to show how he feels about her;

9 - Feyre never did anything to make Nesta hate her other than being a better person than she is, even though Nesta feels entitled to hate her;

10 - Feyre is not to blame for Nesta's problems and failures, yet Nesta always finds a way to hurt her because she is angry with other people. She did this for 10 years while feeling angry at her father, she did it by telling about Feyre's risk of pregnancy in the most irresponsible way possible just because she was angry with Amaren. Don't come to me to say that she was concerned for Feyre's well being because she wasn't. If she had really been worried, she would have called Feyre for a chat and would have told her. But she just agreed with Rhysand and left the responsibility to save and support Feyre in his hands. Then she only remembered the danger that Feyre was in to destroy her relationship with Rhysand and Amaren. Seriously, your sister's pregnancy was risky and you couldn't think that she could have fallen dead right there just for you to have your victory over Amaren;

11- "You chose Feyre" Seriously Nesta, how dare you?

12 - It is very easy to build a character like Nesta and then resort to trauma to try to justify her and awaken the empathy of the reader. We got to the point that if we don't like Nesta, we are called misogynists and insensitive. However, before being abused, Nesta was abusive. Her mother was never an obstacle to protect Elain. So her mom is not a good excuse to try to explain why she never did anything for Feyre. Her attempted sexual assault does not give her the right to use people's trauma against them, as she does with Cassian. In fact, she always did this to Feyre before Thomas, Sarah just justified it with "I didn't really know that you couldn't read". Pathetic.

13- in most parts of acosf I couldn't say whether Nesta had a trauma to be cured by her father that she always mistreated for "being sick and traumatized" or if she was just a spoiled and selfish person who resented Feyre's happiness. I'm still confused;

14 - Sarah gave her impossible powers that she clearly didn't know how to develop. What was Nesta after all? A witch? A puppet of the Mother or death incarnate? I am confused about what her powers really were and I was not surprised by the lazy resolution that Sarah invented to get rid of them. I think we all agree that Feyre's pregnancy plot line didn't need to be there or it could have been developed without us having to see Feyre dying again. What a "creative".

I don't think Nesta is a bad character, I just think she is badly built because all of her justifications for behaving in a certain way are not satisfactory or open up holes in the narrative (her relationship with Elain is an example).

To make up for these construction flaws, Sarah tried to justify Nesta out of emotional issues. Establishing a toxic relationship with your mother in the past, an attempted sexual assault in the not-so-distant past, and the recent trauma caused by your father's death. Behind Nesta's decisions, there is always a purely emotional issue and that, in my view, takes away the complexity of the character.

She would be complex if she just admitted that and she was wrong and that was okay. Nobody is perfect. I got to see a good progression from Nesta to book 3 and I was fine with that. I thought that her whole issue with her father was worse than positive. But I think Sarah understands what Nesta was (abusive) and she wanted to ensure that she would be understood by opening up all of her feelings. I think it worked for some and for others it didn't. I found it appealing. I still don't like her, but I'm glad she is no longer allowed to be toxic. But for me she just needed to really explain herself and apologize to Feyre. I never thought Nesta really hated Feyre. The problem was not whether Nesta loved her or not, but the years when she was abusive to Feyre. She should have just recognized what it was and apologized for it.

[sapphire374]

Soy Sol: Chapter 10 (Hopeful Curiosity)

Wattpad Link

Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7 / Ch.8 / Ch.9 / Ch.11 / Ch.12 / Ch.13 / Ch.14 / Ch.15 / Ch.16 / Ch.17

The gang is huddled around each other at the Jam and Roller rink. Ámbar proceeds to glance over her clipboard that carries the original sign-up sheet. “So, Ámbar, do we have enough members to make up a team for the competition.” Ámbar quickly looks Luna in the eyes and decides to call out the list of names. “The official Jam and Roller team members are Luna, Simon, Matteo, Gaston, Ramiro, Jim, Delfi, Pedro and Jazmin.” Everyone starts counting with their fingers but before anyone gets the chance to start counting, Gaston and Nina both yell out “that’s nine members, we’re missing one.” Luna rollers towards Ámbar. “Ámbar you’re not on the list. Are you going to join us? Please, pretty please join us. Whether you would like to admit it or not, you’re one of the best roller skaters out there and we need you.”

Ámbar takes a big gulp of air, processing everything that’s going on. Luna’s pout with her watery eyes has made Ámbar reconsider her decision. Before she always wanted the worst for Luna, but the past few years has made them become inseparable. She now views Luna as her younger sister plus being the manager of the gang’s favorite place has made her feel as everyone’s bigger sister, being the mature one. Ambar gives in. “Fine, I’ll do it. Especially since you guys need me so much. You guys aren’t wrong though, I am the best,” Ámbar jokes. The whole gang cheers, everyone jumps up and down and excitement enters the room.

Everyone is huddled as they all set their hands out and chant, “ready! One, two, three Jam and Roller!” Juliana enters through the chaos of excitement. “Opa opa! Seems like the group has never separated and feels closer than ever.” The gang all turn around facing her, their faces show signs of shock. No one was expecting this except one certain person in the room. “Juliana! You’re back! Wait how did you know we got the team back together for a competition?” Simón asks. “A little birdy called me and said that a certain team needed my help so I came as quick as I can.” The whole gang starts whispering, wondering who was it that reached out to her. Luna gives Ámbar and Simón a little smirk.

“So have you guys chosen which song you all are going to skate to?” Juliana questions. “Nope,” Ámbar answers. That’s when the idea hits Simón. “I have an idea! Maybe not only the team gets back together for this competition, but also the band? What do you guys say, Nico, Pedro?” Simón suggests. Nico and Pedro look at each other in disbelief and with a loss of words. “Uhh yes of course! You have no idea how long I’ve missed playing on the drums,” Pedro states. “And you guys have no idea how long I’ve missed collaborating the three of us together again,” Nico chimes in. “I guess that settles it. The band is back!!” Simón announces. The room is filled with so many emotions as everyone is so excited about what’s to come next. True nostalgia and memories really do start coming back to them since working together and competing to save their beloved place truly brings them back to old times. Just like how Matteo and Luna wouldn’t stop stealing glances at each other through the midst of it all.

This competition will be fierce including what’s called two stages. The first stage is the basic entry in which they record a video of their performance, the second stage is where they have the official competition. They first though have to make it through the first stage. For the next few days, Juliana tries to prepare them with some exercises since it has been years some of them roller skated. Then they gradually learned again how to do some simple routines as pairs then as groups. Before the gang knew it, in a week they have mastered all the skills and are ready to practice the actual choreography for the performance. Luna and Matteo still haven’t talked much though, yet they’re constant staring proves to show that they still miss and love each other.

Monday Evening at the Jam and Roller (after about a week and a half)

Juliana tells the gang that they can rest, and training has just finished. The group has finally mastered the double turns alignment but are struggling with air spins. Matteo heads over to Luna like old times, while she’s drinking water near the rails. “What’s the matter Chica Delivery? Has all the training finally tired you out?” Matteo flirtatiously says. Luna tries to hide her blushed cheeks and smirks at his comment. “Chico fresa you know that can never happen. My internal adrenaline is endless.” Luna and Matteo begin to laugh. Luna stops once she remembers why she was trying to avoid him for the longest. “Matteo don’t think I forgot everything that has happened.” She begins to stare at the floor, holding back a tear. “I’ve already apologized, what more do you want?” Matteo begs.

“You know that’s not the issue. I just feel like I can’t trust you anymore. You promised me you wouldn’t lie to me anymore and that’s exactly what you did. I don’t want our relationship to be built out of lies. I’d rather stay single instead of having someone stab me in the back unaware.” Matteo widely opens his eyes, it feels like someone has sucker punched him in the gut. For a long time, Matteo has tried to prove to Luna he has changed and does truly care about her, how can one little lie bring all the pain back. “Luna, you know I would never want to break your heart or ‘stab you in the back.’ I just lied about this because I knew you would get jealous of me hanging out with Viviana.” Luna gasps in astonishment. “Jealous! Now that’s a joke right there. For me to be jealous of her, that would mean I would want to be like her or want something she has but that’s not the case at all. I’m happy with the life I live and don’t want to change it. I just don’t like how close she’s been with you. You know I’m okay with you having female friends, but not when one tries to kiss you when I’m not around and constantly wrapping her arms around you. Even the news outlets think you broke up with me and dating her because of how much ‘quality time’ you guys spend together.”

Matteo responds with, “You know how much I miss it when you call me Chico Fresa and miss these fun bantering moments. I would never fall for her because you’re my one true love. You may not be jealous of her but you’re jealous of her getting to spend time with me. Is that it? You want to hang out more with me? How do I make it up to you?” Luna shakes her head and says, “You just don’t get it and it’s okay. I don’t feel like arguing today.” Luna rollers away and Matteo covers his face as he lays his elbows on the silver polished rails. Gastón heads to him and pats his shoulder. “She still hasn’t forgiven you?” Matteo shakes his head in response. His phone begins to ring in the pocket of his jeans. He lifts himself up and pulls it out. “Hello…. yes……. Already in a week? ..... ah I see, okay that seems appropriate I guess…...tomorrow okay, I’ll see you then.” Matteo hangs up and places his phone in his pocket again. “Who was that?” Gastón questions. “It’s my manager. They’re planning to release my music video with Viviana at the end of this week. Usually, we don’t release music videos this early but apparently she demanded for it since it would look good and perfect for this summer. Well to prepare for the release, they want me to perform with her in a live concert.” Matteo’s expression shows his stress and frustration. “But what about the Jam and Roller training?” Gastón asks him. “I’ll try to practice for the concert before the Jam and Roller training starts every day and the concert is on Saturday so that day I guess I’ll just miss training for that one day. I have no other choice.”

Gastón keeps thinking and doesn’t say a word till an amazing idea slips in his head. “I just got it! I just thought of the perfect plan that’ll get Luna to forgive you and get back together with her.” Matteo starts smiling as Gastón whispers the plan into his left ear. “Hermano, you’re a genius.”

The Benson Mansion

Ámbar doesn’t stop glaring at the letter in front of her. It was the original copy that was locked up in Sharon’s vault. This was what her biological mom wrote to her before she gave her away, it includes her phone number. She wants to call that number, desperately wants to but what if this number doesn’t work anymore? Or what if it does? She feels so confused. The closer the wedding gets, the scarier it feels for her. She wants to invite her biological mom and maybe even Sharon, she’s just undecided. It’s more than just complicated for her.

She sucks up every bit of courage left in her, grabs her phone and types in the numbers smeared at the bottom of the letter. It’s…. ringing. The longer she has to wait, the faster her heart beats. The phone stops ringing. “Hello,” the person on the other end answers. Ámbar’s voice begins to crack, “Uh… yes is this Sylvana Ariel?” Ámbar takes a big gulp of air. The person on the other end responds, “yes this is she. Who do I have the pleasure speaking to?” When Ambar hears that it’s her, she decides to move forward with the plan of meeting her. Maybe it was destiny for her to still have this phone number for so many years? “Yes, this is Ámbar, Ámbar Smith. We need to talk. Are you available today?” Ámbar takes control of the situation showing no signs of hesitation, even though her heart says otherwise. “Oh Ámbar? Yes, I’m available today.” Ámbar takes one good look at the letter and answers back, “Good. Meet me at Pachani’s restaurant today at 7 p.m.” The lady answers with an okay before Ámbar hangs up the phone.

She didn’t know this day would come so soon. Getting to meet her birth mother. What should she say? What should she do? Maybe this would help her understand her whole story and discover more who she really is before she gets married. Simón walks into the living room. “There you are. I thought you would be at the Jam and Roller; you never miss an afternoon of work?” Ámbar quickly folds the letter and slips it into her purse. “Oh yeah I just came home to… find another bridal magazine. I thought I left one of my favorite ones here in the living room.” Simón scrunches up his face, “here? In the living room of the Benson Mansion? But you always look at them at our apartment?” Ámbar clasps her purse and places the strap around her arm. “Oh well I sometimes look at them here whenever I visit the Valentes and have a cup of coffee, by mistake one of these days I left my bridal magazine.” Simón nods showing how he understands. “So how are bridal things going?”

“Pretty smooth. Luna and Nina agreed to go order the sets of flowers and decorations at the boutique right across town,” Ámbar states. “Oh, that’s nice. Luna and Nina were so kind to offer their help. What would we do without them?”

“Yes, I agree. We’re very lucky to have them indeed. Um there is one thing I forgot to tell you. At around 7 p.m I won’t be at home yet, I have a meeting with some other law school students for this project we have going on, so I won’t be home.”

Simón’s smile fades away. “Aww I’ll miss you, but I do wish you good luck on the project. I know you’ll do great on it.” Ámbar smiles from thinking how lucky she is to have a caring, understanding partner by her side. They hug each other and head out of the mansion.

*Gif not made by me. Owner of gif's name is at the bottom right hand corner :) *

Lacey’s Boutique

Luna and Nina wait at the front desk holding a slip of paper that carries a list of things they need to purchase for Ámbar’s wedding. “He said that?” Nina whispers. “Yep, I can’t believe he called me jealous when he was the one who lied and created this whole mess in the first place. When we got back together, we agreed on no secrets and to always communicate. That’s the only way a relationship can go well, just look at Ámbar and Simón?”

“I absolutely agree. I felt awful when Gaston spied on me that day, so I understand what you mean. Luckily everything is fixed now,” Nina cheers. “I’m happy for you Nina, sadly in between Matteo and I is a person who doesn’t stop flirting and hanging out with him. Plus, it’s so obvious too, even Simón thought he was dating Viviana and broke up with me. I can’t believe Matteo doesn’t believe me and instead calls me jealous. After everything we’ve been through.” The cashier heads to the counter and Luna and Nina’s conversation ends. “So, is this the list for everything?” Luna nods in approval. “Okay great, everything will be prepared in time and the delivery will be sent to the place on the date of the card.” Luna picks up the card and puts it away in her tiny backpack.

“Thank you,” she begins to head out before the cashier stops her. “Wait, I have something to give you.” He pulls out another card from his pocket. “Here’s my phone number, maybe we can have a cup of coffee together someday if you’d like?” Luna is speechless and turns to Nina for a choice of words. Nina shrugs and seems to be just as confused as her. “Um... well the thing is I’m in a relationship… well right at this moment I’m not sure…. Honestly I don’t know it’s complicated me and my boyfriend well after what he did, I don’t think he’s still my boyfriend but I don’t know…” Luna stops talking when the cashier extremely perplexed expression shows vividly. “Um… well once you get all that resorted and decide not to be with this… complicated person feel free to give me a call.” He leaves and heads to the back of the store. “Luna, I’m shocked he’s still into you after everything you blurted out. I think you even fried his brain.” Nina and Luna giggle their way out.

Jim and Yam’s Apartment

Ramiro adjusts the collar of his nicely firm long sleeve button up shirt. He’s holding a bouquet of sunflowers and is trying to collect the right words to say to Yam. He knocks on the door and waits for a response. “I’m coming,” she says. For Ramiro, hearing Yam’s voice is like a breath of fresh air.

She opens the door and is surprised to see Ramiro’s well put together fit. “Before you say anything I want to do this right. Yam, I know our relationship has been like an ongoing rollercoaster, we’ve been through the ups and the downs but the one thing that has always stayed constant is my love for you. After everything that has happened, I always knew I love you and my path ends up meeting yours. Yam would you like to go on a date with me?” Yam covers her mouth in amusement. She’s appalled from the beautiful surprise he’s presented her, and with a speech too. Usually, Ramiro is too cool for all of this but seeing what he has done has proven enough to Yam that he’s committed. “Ramiro of course, I would love to. In fact, I was always thinking what took you so long?” Yam begins to chuckle. “I guess fear from this not working out, but you can’t always live in fear for the rest of your life.”

Yam jumps into Ramiro’s arms and kisses him on the cheek.

[kerie-prince]

We're Worlds Apart (3)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader

series m.list | general m.list | previous chp

warnings: cursing, angst(?), Draco being a meanie :(

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

a/n: not my best lmao kinda gets cheesy. anyways, Y/M/N = your mother’s name and Y/B/N = your brother’s name

(gif cred)

“Do I really have to get one?” Draco whined in the middle of the phone store, getting his very first cellular device.

“Yeah, man. It's 2008 and you still write letters. Plus, your bird took a shit on my car,” Blaine said matter-of-factly. He found it funny that Draco still used an owl post for communication; the only other person Blaine knew that still uses an owl is his 97 year old grandmother. And even she has a landline in her house. “It's just easier and quicker to use. Why wait a whole day for a letter when you can just text me and I’ll respond in two seconds?”

“I’ve never even used a wall phone, how do you expect me to use a bloody cell-phone, Blaine?” Draco was fidgeting in his seat as he waited for the store employee to finish, what was it called, a credit score? Muggles sure are weird.

She came back shortly with a small, black box that had a weird word on it. What the bloody hell is an iPhone? She explained how it turned on, all the applications it carried, and details about billing and more. Draco was still confused about the whole thing but Blaine said that he would help him understand it better.

“Well look at you, Dray. A modern wizard in America,” Blaine jokes. Draco played with the new device, working out all the kinks of it. He sent his very first text message to Blaine at that moment. Took him precisely 5 minutes to type out a very bland, simple ‘Hello. -Draco L. Malfoy’

It made Blaine laugh so hard that he held his stomach. “My god, we’re gonna have to work on your texting skills, man. First things first, you don't have to sign your name at the end of a text. I know it's you.” Blaine explained to Draco all the fundamentals of texting as they walked through the halls of Santa Marie.

Throughout the day, Draco shared his new number with his department. The more he shared his number, the faster he became at typing.

At the end of his shift, he went to a nearby restaurant where he usually picked up dinner —not one to know his way around the kitchen — and headed home.

It's been a good week for him; his mother had sent him a letter everyday, he finished setting up the guest room for Theo and Blaise, he has this new phone, and best of all, Y/N had not crossed his mind once.

Now he still hasn't accepted what she does in her free time, but also he realized that she’s not exactly harming him nor did she know what he was. He's usually busy with all the work he does, anyway. It was quite a sudden change of heart. But mostly, it was his mother that was able to talk to him and change his views.

My dearest son, had it been during the time before the war, I would have agreed with you. But you have to understand that things are different now. You're different now. Now I am not forcing you, but maybe you should just talk with her just once. If not, just ignore her. After all, she only lives next door.

When he read the letter, he could practically hear all of his friends telling him ‘She's right, you know.’ And deep down, he knew it too. So he went with her advice: ignore Y/N.

—

You’ve had a terrible week; your assistant manager forgot to count the inventory which meant she also forgot to make an order for inventory. A group of teens stole a bunch of little vials of oils you had put on display. And to top it all off, a man stood in front of your shop with signs that had biblical verses written on them, blocking the entrance way and essentially driving away any potential customers. You called security but they never came.

You were used to this happening, it's happened all your life. But that didn't mean that it didn't hurt. I'm not harming anyone, so why does this happen to me? Next week, your mother was flying in from Maine to look around the house to make sure nothing would ‘freak Stephanie out.’ 

Driving back home, you were just waiting to mix some bath salts in your tub, play music, and relax for the next couple of days. By sheer coincidence, as you pulled in you noticed your neighbor that you now knew as Draco pull into his driveway.

This week can't exactly get worse you thought as your legs carried you to his front door. With gentle knocks on the door, you waited patiently. Being rejected once more didn't bother you, but you at least wanted to hear him speak to you and try your chance to become better acquainted.

Draco opened his door, his tie was undone and he looked confusingly at you. “Can I help you?”

Panic overcame your senses and without thinking, you blurted out, “Do you hate me?” You noticed his shocked face as it was probably not something he expected to hear.

“Excuse me, what exactly are you talking about?” he asked in his entrancing British accent. It was too late to take it back, so you just kept going with it. “I’m sorry, but you moved in here four months ago and you seem to have made friends with everyone around here but for some reason, you won’t even say ‘hi’ to me. Did I offend you or something?” You sounded exhausted and sad. Not only at the week you just had, but how Draco wasn’t being so neighborly with you as he was with everyone else on the street. It bothered you so much to no end. And the most frustrating thing was that you didn’t understand why.

“Uh, I apologize that we haven’t been on speaking terms but I don’t think I have to talk to you now, do I?” Draco scoffed. Why is he being such a jerk? “I’m not saying that you have to talk to me, but it’d be nice if you could at least wave or something. But instead, you look at me funny and ignore me. It’s kinda rude.” 

“Merlin, you muggles are so temperamental.” Draco said under his breath. The word sounded funny to you.

“Muggles? Did you just call me a muggle?” The look on Draco’s face didn’t go unnoticed. He stared at you for a few moments, not saying anything. What does that mean? “Is that what you call Americans in the UK? Doesn’t really sound nice.”

Draco started laughing mockingly at you, his grip on his door tightening and knuckles turning white, “Look, I don’t understand what it is exactly you want from me but I will say this; the fact that you are so offended that I won’t acknowledge you is honestly quite fucking childish and if you couldn’t get the hint then I’ll say it plainly for you now. I don’t. Wish. To. Be. Friends. With. You. Got it?” and with that, he slammed the door in your face.

Groaning out, you yelled at him through his door, “Fuck you then! I don’t wanna be friends with some rude prick!” You ran to your door and slammed it pretty hard. The sudden noise frightened your cat and made her run from her tower into your room. What the fuck is his deal? 

You walked to your room, pissed off and tired. Looking up, you saw Draco in his room. You stared each other down before you walked up to your window to close your blinds, flipping him off before it fully closed. Afterwards, you took a regular shower and went to bed. Anger built up inside you, and for probably the first time, you hated another human being. And you had to live next to him for god knows how long.

-

“I mean, did you really have to say that to her?” Ian and Ashley had just listened to Draco explain what had happened the night before. Ian just sat in the chair eating his lunch as Ashley responded to him. “I know things might be different in England, but you should’ve given her a chance. She could be nice. I have a couple No-Maj friends on my block.”

“I’m on Ash with this. Is it really all because she’s Wiccan? Be honest, Dray,” Ian chipped in. At that point, Draco didn’t really know what to say. He thought he could look past it, but he couldn’t. “Maybe, yeah. I come from two families that had very strict traditions and views of muggles. I thought I dropped those views but seeing first hand what they do and-”

“And it makes you feel like a freak? Because you’re a real wizard that can do magic and they sit in some weirdly drawn circle and ‘do’ magic?” Ashley finished Draco’s sentence, making quotation marks with her hands. “I get it, I really do. I was offended too when I had to read about No-Maj’s doing this during school. And then to see movies where witches are viewed as ugly, green-skinned hags with warts on her face and wear rags for clothes. Kinda brings you down as a kid. But I got over it. You should, too.” Ashley held Draco’s hand for a bit before she grabbed her coffee mug and left for her appointments.

Ian sat quietly, watching as Draco was sinking in everything he was advised. “Look man, it’s not really my business to be telling you what you should or shouldn’t like, and who you should or shouldn’t like. And you know what, you’re not exactly in the wrong to get mad about what happened. After all, she just kinda picked a fight with you out of nowhere.” Draco had a face that looked as if he was saying ‘Right? I’m not crazy here’

“But,” of course there’s a ‘but’, “from what I hear around the street, Y/N’s really nice. Super weird for sure, but an overall nice person. I think you should think about it.” Ian nodded at Draco before joining Ashley out of the breakroom. Draco sat there, thinking about what his friends said and also thought back to his mother’s letters. I’m such a child. And I’m the one that called her childish. If he was honest, you were but it didn’t make him better.

He knew what he was going to do after work. It pained him to have to apologize to someone. Apologizing wasn’t something he was exactly used to doing. He’s only done it once to Harry and his friends nearly three years after the Battle. He didn’t even really know what to say to you. But he’ll figure it out. Right?

-

You stood shocked at your doorstep, hands holding onto the sweater as you looked before you. “Mom, you’re here early.”

“I had been given an extra week off of work so I thought I’d just come and see my oldest baby before your brother and Stephanie comes. Also gives me a head start to plan our dinner and get this house situated,” your mother walked past you with her two large luggage cases and dropped them on your living room floor. She looked around the house and eyed all the decorations and pictures on the walls.

To her, everything was nearly normal. You had family pictures posted and some pictures of you and your friends from college. In the living room, you had a tapestry hung up behind your couch that used to belong to your grandmother. “Y/N please, will you take down that blanket? Why don’t you put up a picture of some flowers, or maybe something abstract?”

“Because I don’t want a picture of flowers and that’s not a blanket. It was Grandma’s. I want it hung up there. Ma, you gotta understand that it’s my house now.” Your arms were crossed due to the cold. You had the day off and tried to spend it well as you did your cleansing spell in the morning, but it seems that it wasn’t very effective seeing as your mother came in and immediately started nitpicking everything.

“It was cute in your room when you were a kid. But you’re 26 now. How would your boyfriend feel if he walked in here and thought ‘oh, didn’t know I was dating a 16 year old.’” Her constant criticism was nearly pushing you to the edge. “Ma, I don’t really want to argue with you tonight so I’m just going to bed-” a doorbell rang throughout the house and you were thanking whoever was listening for giving you a reason to walk away from your mother. 

As soon as you opened the door, you were met with another face that you weren’t exactly excited to see. “Can I help you?” you repeated Draco’s words from last night back at him in a spiteful tone.

Through gritted teeth, he looked at you and said, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for being an arse yesterday. I hope we can look past it and become well-acquainted neighbors.”

“Huh, you’re sorry? You don’t really sound it.”

“I know, I’m not really used to doing this,” Draco quipped. “But nonetheless, I would still like to apologize.”

“Yeah, whatever, I’m sorry too.” You were about to close the door until your mother came up and pushed the door completely open, “Honey, who’s at the door- oh! Hello, I’m Y/M/N. And you are?” She looked at Draco with the nicest smile that you had ever seen on her.

“Hello, My name’s Draco. Nice to meet you,” he awkwardly shook your mother’s hand. He didn’t smile, but he also didn’t have the usual scowl on his face when he would look at you. Guess he does have manners. “Y/N, is this a friend of yours?” your mother insinuated with a less than discreet wink. Without missing a beat, you replied, “No. Ma, this is my new neighbor. I just met him. But it’s late, so nice meeting you Draco. See you around.” And you closed the door.

“That was rude, Y/N. You should have invited him in. He’s very cute,” your mother grabbed her bags and headed into the guest room. From a distance, you could hear your mother speak to herself, saying ‘At least this room looks normal’. “It’s kinda late. Besides, we have all the time in the world to talk.” 

You walked to your small closet and grabbed the special bath salts for stress relief and walked to your bathroom. Starting to strip, your mother barged in. “Ma! Privacy, please!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I gave birth to you. Anyways, how long has it been since he moved in? Do you think he knows about your witchy stuff?” She asked as she stood by the door, checking her reflection as you continued to undress for your bath. “I don’t really hold a sign around my neck that says I’m a Wiccan, Mother,” you said with closed eyes. Your mother said, “I hope not. Night, baby,” and closed the door.

This is going to be a long three weeks.

-

The morning came and you woke up before your alarm and did your daily routine. The only difference was that your mother was going through your pantry looking for ingredients to make breakfast. “Morning, honey. Do you want some pancakes? I’ll make your favorites! It’s still blueberry, right?”

“No, that was Y/B/N. Mine are chocolate chip and peanut butter.” You said flatly as you grabbed your watering can. “Oh that’s right. But I already bought the blueberries.”

“That’s fine, they still taste good.” Your mother was satisfied with your response and started right away. You walked out to your front yard and watered your plants along the fence. The betony plants were beautiful, its sight was calming your nerves as you poured water over them. The sound of a door closing caused you to look up, watching Draco as he was standing in his yard with what seemed like a cigarette attached to his lips before he took it out and placed it onto an ashtray that was on his porch.

He walked over to the fence that separated your yards. The smell of the cigarette was in the air and it reminded you of your late father. “I meant it last night,” he mentioned his apology. You didn’t really know what to say so you just nodded and went back to watering your plants.

“But if I recall, you did start that fight,” he chuckled. You glared up at him for a few seconds before returning to your task. “Alright, I guess I’m sorry too.” Draco scoffed and just whispered ‘Whatever’ and walked away. “Wait,” you called for him before he walked back into his house and luckily, he stopped. “I’m sorry,” you said with sincerity. “Can we just start over?”

He stared at you, visibly contemplating your question then finally said, “Sure.” He walked into his house and you stood shocked in your yard. Your mother walked out and announced to you, “Honey! Breakfast is ready! Come on, I think your plants are watered enough.” With the snap of your screen door, you were released from your daze and walked inside. Maybe this week is turning around after all.

-

Draco sat in his room, not exactly sure what exactly happened. Was he really going to try and become friends with a muggle? He could imagine the look on his fathers face. Just because he had lost in the Battle, didn’t mean that he magically accepted muggles and muggle-borns. Narcissa didn’t like them much either but she also didn’t hate them as Lucius did.

This would shock not only his parents, but also his friends, Blaise and Theo. Merlin, the person that would probably have a field day about this would be Hermione Granger. He sat there, imagining Granger either laughing at him or cursing him after all the bullying he put her through. All those years of calling her a mudblood and he becomes friends with a muggle. A No-Maj. A Wiccan No-Maj. But then he thought about what Ian said at work. Y/N is really nice. Weird, but nice. And when he agreed to having a fresh start with you, he figured that it would give you a chance to prove him wrong about what you were like.

Or she could be exactly what I always thought muggles to be. Foolish.

—

next chp

(っ◔◡◔)っtaglist: @beiahadid @malfoy-styles-wife @fivenightslaughter @juneballoon999 @leydileyla @fangirlanotherjust @originalsoulcollector @opiomancy @lipstickandloveletters

[tenaciouspeacesandwich]

PSA: Online Safety

Ok so normally I don’t post personal stuff on here, but I saw something today that made me remember this and I knew I had to post it somewhere. 

When I was 14, I was really into digital art and online forums where people could post and discuss their paintings/drawings. As someone w/adhd and social anxiety, the internet was somewhere I felt I could be myself and be in control of my social interactions. It wasn’t as intimidating as making friends or talking to people in real life, and I built genuine social skills on there. However, I wasn’t aware of how dangerous these digital communities could be.

I had (still do) a really great relationship with my parents growing up, and they made sure to have the discussion with me about stranger danger and how you should never give away personal info online, all the classics. I never really hid anything I did on the computer from them, and they trusted me completely. They monitored our internet that was considered acceptable by most parenting standards (i.e. server blockers for adult content, etc.). But none of that mattered when I met someone on a discussion board who convinced me to meet up with them irl.

Obviously, looking back on it now years later, it was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. Even at the time, I remember being a little scared when this person asked me to meet them at a public park. They were one of my online ‘art buddies’, ppl who critiqued and gave advice for your submissions, and we’d ‘known’ each other for a while. They complimented my sketches, gave me great tips on how to draw better, and I was really inspired by all the works they posted. Then the conversations meandered naturally from our posts to our lives, casual talk like how we hated homework but liked our teachers, our siblings were annoying, etc. 

WARNING: DESCRIPTION OF GROOMING AHEAD

Then, one day they messaged me complementing my self-portrait that I had posted. It was by no means realism, more of a cartoon version of myself, but their flattering words were enough to make my introverted,14-year-old self swoon. I was so shy in school, no one even knew i was there half the time, let alone told me i was beautiful. It made me feel special, valued, less alone. Looking back now, I see it for what it was. But at the time, those words only made me trust this person more. So when they mentioned that they lived in my city and asked if I wanted to meet up at a public park, it wasn’t a huge red flag to me. It was a public place, right? It’s not like they were asking for my social or my address or anything. And they wouldn’t be picking me up in their car, the park was close enough to my school that I could bike the 4 miles there myself. We were just gonna hang out at the picnic tables for a couple of hours, no big deal. 

Even though I’d seen this park before, I’d never actually been to it. My parents never took us there, and I always just assumed it was because there were other, closer parks to our house that were just as nice. It didn’t seem sketchy to me as I rode up closer, other than the fact that some of the playground equipment was rusty and the swing set had overgrown weeds on it. 

I remember this day so clearly even though it’s been 10 years now: I was pedaling up this mini-hill that went thru a neighborhood, and the park was at the bottom of the hill on the other side. I remember stopping at the top of the hill to catch my breath for a second on the sidewalk, and I looked down at the park. From where I was standing, I could see the picnic tables and the parking lot. My friend had been messaging me on my phone, and had been updating me ever since I left school on my bike. They said they were already there and had been waiting for me for the past 10 minutes, and that when I arrived I’d be able to find them really easily because they had a red convertible in the parking lot, and they had managed to get us a table that we didn’t have to share. I texted them when I left, asking if there were a lot of people at the park that day. Their reply was really distinct, because instead of ‘yeah, kinda’ or ‘not really’, they texted back; ‘Super crowded, some kind of birthday party at the gazebo- All kinds of moms lol’ . Reading that gave me assurance that I didn’t know I needed, and that’s why I remember the dread and fear I felt when I looked down at the park.

 There was no one there.

No party, no kids, nothing- the gazebo was empty, the playground deserted, everything was just quiet. 

Except for this one man sitting at a picnic table, who had to be at least my father’s age. There was a gray sedan parked in the lot (i’m assuming his, but I don’t know), and the man was looking down at his phone as he sat at the table.

I texted my ‘friend’ again, still hidden by the garage wall of someone’s house where my bike was parked at the top of the hill. My ‘friend’ was supposed to be a guy my age who was wearing a pink floyd t shirt and black jeans. I asked him, ‘is there food at the party?’

I got an instant reply; ‘Yeah, a grillout- smells amazing but i don’t think they’ll let us have anything lol’. 

I turned around and got on my bike, looking over my shoulder every 5 minutes, terrified that this guy might have seen and followed me. Thankfully, there was never anyone behind me, and I didn’t stop until I got home. I went to my room and deleted my entire account from that website, blocking my ‘friend’ first and deleting all of our conversation history in a panic before making sure every trace of me was gone forever. I sat there in my room for a while just staring at the wall. 

I don’t know for sure if the man that I saw had anything to do with the person I was messaging- I don’t know him or why he was at the park. All of these things are connections I drew from what I knew via the website and our conversation, and what I could see with my own eyes. But more powerful than any of that was the immense, strong gut feeling I had wash over me when I was about to meet that person. Something just felt very, very wrong. I was still happy and excited to meet them, but that happiness was soured by that innate reaction of dread and foreboding that just screamed at me to go away. 

I never told my parents about this, and still haven’t to this day. I know they would blame themselves for me being lured by this person (if that was in fact what happened), and that is the last thing I want- they did everything right.

That’s my entire point in posting this: my parents did everything by the book, took the experts advice, had an open and trusting relationship with me, and monitored our internet access. But I still made this happen, I still got my way, and I’m convinced that it’s by sheer luck that I’m still here today. I got up the courage to ask them one day, about 3 years after all this, when we were driving by that park why they never took us there as kids. My parents told me that park was notorious for drug use and crime, and that there were no working security cameras anywhere nearby. 

There have been so many people in my situation who unfortunately never came home. Please please please be careful who you talk to on the internet, and be even more careful about the excuses you tell yourself to justify why it’s ok for you to be communicating with strangers. I convinced myself that this was just a fun meet up with a friend, that it was safe because it was on a public property, and that it was ok for me to go by myself. I will remember this experience for the rest of my life. 

[arthurtristankingsmen]

More and longer theory chatter with @flash-the-geist with guest stars who popped in. This one is longer since it’s theorizing but turned into something Flash affectionately named the ‘Esprestissimo AU’ which I am keeping because I love it so much.

Most of this mainly features Duet thoughts and then shenanigans ! The most I did was add a missing thing in my own comments for clarification or that my brain skipped over when typing it before, or where I adjust the order of the messages for cohesiveness

please enjoy jdjd

flaaaash — Today at 4:35 AM

hmmm what if the note-taker is Duet, taking notes about "Solo"? that implies they're two different people

Arthur — Today at 4:36 AM

that's what i was thinking-- that the ‘He’ in the note is reverb, and this note is in reference to reverb, but also a comment on Solo, and the Duet 'wrote' this character profile as like-- a case file if they're in charge of the organization

so duet is like 'solo' claims she still needs to study him for research in a note on the file he's taking on reverb or something like that

flaaaash — Today at 4:37 AM

this might be my deep, unfortunate familiarity with bureaucracy talking, but- if the person in charge is also the one taking notes, it's a very small organization

Arthur — Today at 4:37 AM

oh yeah

i imagined it was tiny personally

tempo seems on the smaller side so if it's all based there, i was imagining it was relatively small

flaaaash — Today at 4:38 AM

not international then, perhaps

adkjfakjf oooh now I want to make a little card for Flash

Arthur — Today at 4:39 AM

yeah no-- at least since the name tempo of the town following the motif like seemingly implies it's based in/related to the town since if follows the reference style

or that's my thinking anyways?

flaaaash — Today at 4:39 AM

very true

imagine if Tempo is just Like That and the rest of the world is totally normal

Arthur — Today at 4:40 AM

i personally think vivi didn't grow up in tempo now more tho-- because i think if she did and there is an organization, they woulda gotten wind of her and she probably would've been recruited since she's smart and clearly into that kind of thing

and if she was in the org and knew what she was doing, i don't know if she would've gone to the cave if she was at all in the Know 

flaaaash — Today at 4:40 AM

or they would have tried to study Mystery?

Arthur — Today at 4:41 AM

that too!!

even if they brought her in just because of mystery i imagine they would've brought her in

flaaaash — Today at 4:41 AM

maybe that's what the "her research into "REDACTED" is referring to. Research into mystery?

it all does seem to come back to him

Arthur — Today at 4:42 AM

or maybe she's relatively new to tempo still, and duet gave her a job because they intended to bring her in at some point but hadn't yet

like there were steps to take and like-- the cave happened before things could get fully underway

i mean at my job i applied in like-- march, and i didn't get an interview until may, and then i didn't get any training until november, and then i didn't get brought in to learn the job until december. so it'd be easy to imagine that if there was a reason, bringing her in could be a slow process 

flaaaash — Today at 4:43 AM

that might also explain why there were all these "go back" signs in the cave

clearly someone with English language skills put the signage there

Arthur — Today at 4:43 AM

that too! it definitely felt like it was to warn off people and keep them from tresspassing

but the gang were kids and also ghost don't haunt the places that aren't super scary and dangerous! so of course they gotta go in!

flaaaash — Today at 4:45 AM

maybe they weren't expecting someone like Vivi at all

she was a wild card that popped up and threw a spanner in the works accidentally

Arthur — Today at 4:45 AM

yeah!

i can imagine her just coming in and completely bamboozling everyone

duet is like 'okay we'll get her in on this but we'll take some time to sort everything and judge where she's at skill wise since we have time and it's not like she can get into any danger with all our protective me--oh no'

flaaaash — Today at 4:48 AM

that calls Duet's motivation into question a lil bc - there's at least a significant amount of time between Lewis dying and them finding him again

since their search is reasonably extensive and Arthur's had time to heal up. So why didn't Duet do anything during this time?

Arthur — Today at 4:50 AM

hmmmm--- well we know it's been less than a year since the cave happened at least, and i think the way Ben talked about it  sounded like it was a relatively short time table of only a few months, so maybe they wanted to give them recovery time or they weren't sure how to broach it-- i'm not sure. maybe the comic will give some kind of insight hopefully if the case is that vivi came in like that

i feel like it'd be interesting and make more sense given what she has available magic wise and mystery-wise if she wasn't in town until much later in life to explain why she wouldn’t already be working with the organization. but i'm still like hmm

because you do have a point that there would be a fair bit of inaction, unless for some reason vivi's memory issues or something was a problem or something happens in the prequel to explain or hint

tho now that brings into question if duet knows Lewis is dead, how are things not being managed better

i mean i've had arthur say in the past and i've said once or twice that like-- i think arthur was already working with prosthetics. so he could've had an arm mostly built and just had to make a more functioning one so that could've been fast. so hopefully maybe the prequel comic is set a bit before and might explain duet helping or something in a way that could make sense of it?

especially given he did make galaham's wheels already and such. he might've already built one but needed to make a new one set up for him

flaaaash — Today at 4:54 AM

I'm fairly sure people would at least know he's missing

I guess it's possible that the 'memory magic' thing that makes Vivi forget - it could affect everyone except Arthur and Mystery?

Arthur — Today at 4:56 AM

that's possible--

we have only seen mystery and arthur in the world seeming to know what's going on, so we don't know who knows what. just that vivi doesn't know lewis

but maybe nobody else does either to some degree

flaaaash — Today at 4:56 AM

Arthur being possessed at the time, and Mystery being a magical being himself. We don't have any evidence that anyone else remembers Lewis, although he seems to still be in pictures

Arthur — Today at 4:57 AM

people did seem confused arthur was freaking out in the store in the comic and like

idk. if i knew he lost his best friend i'd be more sympathetic/not look at him like he was crazy. I’d assume something set him off but probably feel bad for him if i knew what happened in the last year?

because i would imagine mental health is in the toilet after going on a trip and losing a friend even if he was only 'missing'

and the way arthur mentioned lewis and when vivi forgets he's just like 'nevermind'. if no one really remembers Lewis, then maybe giving up trying to explain is because he’s used to no one knowing who he means

flaaaash — Today at 4:58 AM

yea h

Arthur — Today at 4:58 AM

what if arthur only remembers lewis? (and mystery does)

Don't forget to take your meds ❤ — Today at 4:58 AM

In fairness most people would be confused if they saw someone having a panic attack in public, no matter how much was known about the person

flaaaash — Today at 4:58 AM

also if Lewis looked like himself for a moment just before dropping Arthur - does that mean Lance saw him?

or did he only see skele-version and thus didn't recognize him as Lewis

Arthur — Today at 4:58 AM

hmmmmm--- i lean to skele vision. he turned back pretty quick iirc

flaaaash — Today at 4:59 AM

I'm torn between analysing between a storyteller perspective and an in-world perspective

Arthur — Today at 5:01 AM

por que no los dos?

also

hmmm-- i think given people were like 'what's up with that guy', it seemed either not knowing what was going on with him or what it could stem from, but if lewis disappeared in a small town i feel like a lot of the details would've spread. so they might assume it had to do with that instead-- so it feels like maybe most people don't know

which seems strange in a smaller community because stuff gets around

flaaaash — Today at 5:01 AM

especially since the Peppers own a restaurant

Arthur — Today at 5:01 AM

yeah-- in a small town place a restuarant is usually a social hub of sorts

so if lewis disppeared i'm sure people would talk given he was a waiter and thus kind of a face for the restaurant

flaaaash — Today at 5:02 AM

also if they think he's missing and not dead, his family would be looking for him too. which means missing persons pics and all that

Arthur — Today at 5:02 AM

yeah and we didn’t see any. and some people not knowing or visitors i could get, but everyone seemed surprised by arthur freaking out, and if they knew lewis was missing and lewis and arthur were friends, it feels odd to like-- none of them to even look sympathetic

i would imagine if they knew lewis was gone they'd assume arthur would be more emotionally reactive than usual-- unless they have no idea that something is going on with arthur because you know-- lewis is erased jdjd

i mean the reason we know vivi doesn't remember is because her eyes glowed as lewis got phased out of the photo

but who knows maybe him being phased out was in general and that just meant she was affected too. everyone gets amnesia

flaaaash — Today at 5:03 AM

also slightly cracky theory but - if they ended up accidentally in the research facility during Ghost, that would explain why Vivi found a fully-stocked fridge alkja;gl

Arthur — Today at 5:04 AM

DSJDDLJSDLFJDSJL

that would be hilarious

lewis is his own scp in his tantrum mansion

they just keep an eye on the lot

flaaaash — Today at 5:05 AM

well what else are they gonna do with him??? xD

Arthur — Today at 5:05 AM

dslsdjdsfljdsfd

''welp no one knows who this guy is soooooo manor in the middle of nowhere time'

flaaaash — Today at 5:06 AM

"so the waiter turned into a vengeful spirit?" "oh uhhhh ok put him in a box i guess until we figure something out?"

ok theory- Duet knows Lewis is dead, but is trying to figure out a way to help/break the memory magic on Vivi, and that's why he's in the mansion/cave for a while before Ghost?

Arthur — Today at 5:06 AM

i like it! i think them knowing and approaching arthur in the comic and using 'rancid vibes' as an excuse would make sense

flaaaash — Today at 5:07 AM

"so that Vivi person wandered in again somehow and now the vengeful waiter ghost is loose?" "for fuck's sake you had ONE JOB-"

Arthur — Today at 5:07 AM

they know what's actually going on but they kinda act like everyone else while also getting arthur something that might help him in that book that i think will be important in the plot of the prequel

DL;G;HDGSAL;HKGSDHL;DGS

flash you have the biggest brain

 flaaaash — Today at 5:08 AM

,kadjgalgkj

"also there was this killer tree-" "I do not care about the tree, one problem at a time"

Poor Duet is having A Week

but the mental image of them trying to avoid Arthur and Vivi investigating, while trying to find ??? and re-capture him while shoving Lewis in a box is hilarious, and then they run into Shiromori and just throw their hands in the air like "can u not????". And then Murder Mystery shows up and they just quit

Arthur — Today at 5:10 AM

dlaajldkljjdl;dldjlfkfd

duet is just like

on their tenth cup of coffee

Don't forget to take your meds ❤ — Today at 5:10 AM

Arthur: Those are rookie numbers

Arthur — Today at 5:11 AM

they see murder mystery and go back inside the shop like 'can you add like 5 espresso shots to this'

flaaaash — Today at 5:11 AM

explains why they're like "Arthur pls your vibes. Do you KNOW what I've been dealing with"

Arthur — Today at 5:11 AM

asdl;;dfslhsdahg;as;dghkghsdllhsgd

flaaaash — Today at 5:11 AM

"five extra shots and a red bull chaser please-"

Arthur — Today at 5:12 AM

(also just still crosses my fingers for medium/spiritually-sensitive!arthur to be canon but if not it will live on in my fannon)

dsldjllssfdf

they just start shoving coffee grounds directly into their mouth

flaaaash — Today at 5:12 AM

this series has a lot of antagonists

akjdalgj just crunching beans down whole

Arthur — Today at 5:13 AM

i need-- to draw duet

looking tired with a coffee

flaaaash — Today at 5:14 AM

Duet with a giant cup of coffee, staring at Murder Mystery with a deadpan stare and going "Absolutely not, I forbid it, there is not enough coffee in the WORLD."

Arthur — Today at 5:14 AM

flash and will if i share this chatter on tumblr would you be okay with it ? or would u rather i block out names if i do

i feel like some of this is hilarious and people need to experience it

flaaaash — Today at 5:14 AM

akdflaf no go for it

I will out myself as a sham of a storyboarder

Arthur — Today at 5:15 AM

duet is that gif of the ghost busters lady going 'mmm nope not today, room full of nightmares'

and turning and walking away

duet is doing their best and needs a nap

tired as Arthur

flaaaash — Today at 5:15 AM

Duet walking around the corner to see the gang facing down Murder Mystery: swivels on one foot and goes right back the way they came

Arthur — Today at 5:15 AM

ldjldljd EXACTLY

Don't forget to take your meds ❤ — Today at 5:16 AM

Heheheheh

Arthur — Today at 5:16 AM

like look at this person

look at their eyebags

they are Tired

they have deal with this bullshittery

they have sass to provide

but they also are Tired and done with this shit

flaaaash — Today at 5:16 AM

I want Duet and Arthur playing a game of caffeine chicken

Marshy — Today at 5:16 AM

Huge massive sigh as they see the whole bullshit situation go down and turns around to go back to the bookshop

flaaaash — Today at 5:16 AM

just lined up at the cafe bar, espresso shots in rows down the counter as they lock eyes-

who shall win- the CAFFEINE-OFF?

Arthur — Today at 5:17 AM

flash

pls if you right that i will pay you money

or maybe art

Marshy — Today at 5:17 AM

It's me I'll win

flaaaash — Today at 5:17 AM

SLFKJLKGS

Arthur — Today at 5:17 AM

dlasd;sdgkd;djslj;dags

i'm rooting for you take those nerds OUT

flaaaash — Today at 5:18 AM

"Duet gives him a look of Supreme Weariness and Nopery. Arthur counters with a double eye-roll of Resignation and Angst. In the true synchronicity of the Absolutely Done, they each take an espresso shot and slam it down."

Arthur — Today at 5:20 AM

djdasd;ds;lsda;ldj;lkdsl;jkdsj;lkasljkdjlkdg

they clink the little cups together first before taking their respective shots

flaaaash — Today at 5:21 AM

they do the thing where they turn it upside down to prove it's empty

by the fifth they're trying to outcompete each other with anecdotes

by the tenth they've moved onto toasting each other

Arthur — Today at 5:21 AM

Bonding!

Don't forget to take your meds ❤ — Today at 5:22 AM

The anecdotes get concerningly similar to each others

flaaaash — Today at 5:22 AM

by the twelfth, Arthur begins weeping. Duet pats him in solidarity and knocks the next shot clean off the counter due to caffeine-induced twitching

Arthur — Today at 5:22 AM

DSGLAHGLDGHDGHAAHDSGDG

EXCELLENT

i

want them to be friends now

flaaaash — Today at 5:23 AM

by the thirteenth, the barista stages an intervention and starts giving them decaf

by this point, they don't notice 

Arthur — Today at 5:23 AM

asdlaadjsdsajd

thank you they owe you their life

they could taste the difference if they weren't vibrating into the 28the dimension atm

flaaaash — Today at 5:24 AM

after the fifteenth shot, the counter is clear and they're both full of sympathetic outrage for the other's plight. They sprint from the cafe, steamroll right over Shiromori, and punt the colours right out of Murder Mystery in a fit of industrial-strength caffeinated indignance.

Don't forget to take your meds ❤ — Today at 5:24 AM

Hahahaha

Arthur — Today at 5:25 AM

h;lsadlf;dsldj;fsljl;dfsajdfsa

flaaaash — Today at 5:25 AM

The newly Monochromatic Mystery has to then help Vivi contain the pair before they wipe all paranormal activity off the face of Tempo.

Arthur — Today at 5:25 AM

that's how the fifth video ends

flaaaash — Today at 5:25 AM

Lewis narrowly escapes by hiding in a box. THE END

Arthur — Today at 5:25 AM

dsal;gsdhldgsa;dgsdgs;hldgs;lhdsa

beautiful thank u flash

i owe you my life

flaaaash — Today at 5:25 AM

you're welcome it's my magnum opus

Arthur — Today at 5:26 AM

A+ story telling

i'm including it in the post

flaaaash — Today at 5:26 AM

ALKJGAGK

it's okay I don't have a reputation to ruin xD

Arthur — Today at 5:26 AM

dlasdl;dhsgldgdgs

this is a callout for flash being the funniest person alive--

or undead

flaaaash — Today at 5:27 AM

dead-

sfkjga

l

Arthur — Today at 5:27 AM

djdjdjdj

i thought about it and corrected myself xDD

flaaaash — Today at 5:30 AM

ok I have no idea if anyone will get this pun, but I dub this the Esprestissimo AU

Arthur — Today at 5:36 AM

djalsd;ldsjdsjldf

i LOVE THAT

music puns but espressos EXTRA ESPRESSOLY

flaaaash — Today at 5:49 AM

xD

[femchef]

Life Update

So I’ve been at the new place a month this week.

I love it here - but honestly five years of working with a nice boss did not prepare me for working with a stack of nice bosses.

Hmm.

If that makes sense? That said - I would absolutely not have been able to handle this level of care and concern if I’d jumped into this position five years ago. Like - I needed to work with one genuinely kind supervisor as like. Kindness coping lessons?

It’s built into my resume - over the last eight years I’ve made it a point to include a statement in my cover letter about how important it is to continuously build safe spaces in kitchens, and making a place where other people can grow and develop their skills in a place that isn’t full of anger and mismanaged stress.

At the point when I started drafting that, I made a very conscious decision that I didn’t want to be angry at work. That was after a lot of self evaluation, and it was (always is) a work in progress. Angry chef and bitchy/catty chef are stereotypes for a lot of reasons.

Anyway - the point is, I knew what I wanted to make possible, but I’d never seen it before, in real life. I just had the notion that it was something that should be doable.

And then I got painfully lucky, and got to work for someone for five years who had had the same conscious realization, and wanted to make the same thing? Who manages with compassion and kindness. It was a little frustrating having to watch her bend over backwards to ensure that everyone else stuck to that, and it didn’t always work out. There are plenty of things that weren’t great about it, but.

It was doable. Not only was it doable but it was being put into practice. I can’t. I can’t express how wonderful and eye opening and just goddamn relieving it was, to know that we could make a place like that. And that people didn’t have to go home miserable everyday.

Kitchen work is hard. It’s hard, it can be more than a bit thankless, and a lot of kitchen culture is toxic in a way that feels insurmountable - like. Burn it to the ground and start over insurmountable. But it really, truly doesn’t have to be that way.

And I talked about it over the years with friends and it was kind of but not really a joke between us that moving to Nashville and leaving Savannah was like getting out of an abusive relationship - just. Ya know. We broke up with the Sav Service Industry. Like. Honestly- we can’t lose steam with demanding better mental health support for service instrusty employees because it’s hella overdue.

Now though. I’m here in Florida. And it’s not just one boss who is a decent person. Maybe it’s telling that one of our company managers talks about his 5 years of hell at the last place he worked (I just about died when he said it was in Hilton Head the poor man is NOT WRONG) and how he doesn’t want that for anyone else. Honestly, every manager I’ve talked to here so far has a horror story like that, that made them stop and go “Fuck, I don’t want this for other people or for me anymore how do I fix this”.

Somehow I’ve found myself in a place that’s five steps further along. No one is having to bend over backwards to constantly enforce kindness. No one is shouting. No one is throwing temper tantrums. I have several bosses and co-managers who are all kind and like to touch base and make sure I’m not overworking or overextended. It’s still summer, so the kitchen is on a skeleton crew until the seasonal hires start to arrive in October, but it’s with the expectation of teaching. There is a lot of kindness and patience to go around. Instead of discouraging employees to report injuries and accidents, the staff is begging people to do it “Please, it’s ok, we aren’t mad, look this is why we have chemical flush stations oh god please just let us take you to the hospital” conversations have happened.

It’s safe here. It really is.

Now I just have to keep pushing through all the residual anxiety.

I have a weekly scheduled meeting with my direct supervisor just to touch base, check in, see how things are going. Every single meeting has been delightful and every single time the night before and up to it I’ve been getting “called to the principals office” unnecessary anxiety vibes. Literally my last meeting when I walked in the door started with him saying “Ah! I’m so happy you are here! I’m so glad to have you on staff” like excuse 404ERROR my brain does not know how to handle this yet.

I spent a month worrying about my drafts for new menus and they were due yesterday. I was a little dissatisfied with them, I felt like I hadn’t done enough, and I pointed out in the email that these weren’t comprehensive, but that I felt like they were a good start - look, I had seven banquet and catering menus to write, including planning all the holiday pick up meal menus for the next year. Imagine if someone asked you to write every single variation of your skill but also pare it down to a manageable list that isn’t overwhelmed with too many choices. It’s HARD.

And the email I got back after sending those off last night: “Wow! You’ve really outdone yourself! This is more than I could have ever asked for or expected, I can’t wait to go over it” etc etc.

Current Me is a WiP and is cautiously pleased, but yeah. I can see how 5 Years Past Me would have imploded on the spot and been completely unprepared for this level of decency.

So anyway. We will see how it goes, but overall, I’m happy.

Also I forgot how desperately I need water and sunshine and I’m pretty sure I’m actually just a damn tropical flower because I am absolutely thriving in 90F Florida humidity and full sun.

[filmmakerdreamst]

Xena: Warrior Princess Review

During Pride Month 2020, I finally got around to watch ‘Xena’. A show that had been in my to-watch list for years, but never got around to start. And when I finally did, I was pleasantly surprised. It was not what I expected and it was everything I think my 11 year old self would have loved.

The one thing that surprised me about the show, was the lack of packaging. Even though it was a fantasy, it also played with different kinds of genres too. I’ve talked about this before in my other review - ‘Xena’ was made at a time when TV had very few rules/rarely had a set audience, since there were parts of the show that were clearly for kids and there were other parts that were clearly for adults (therefore had much more flexibility). I admired how they weren’t afraid to break barriers and touch on deep themes such as religion, morality, redemption, spirituality, motherhood, forgiveness etc - even more than shows of today are able. I also loved how they played into the idea of ‘murder’ and how much it can damage a person - not just the person who commits the act, but the many people affected afterwards. I wasn’t expecting it to be that extreme. It made me think that this must of been the inspiration for ‘Game of Thrones’. 

I see a lot of comments here and there, saying how ‘cheesy and terrible’ it was but to just accept it because its part of the fun. And while like any show it does suffer from the occasional spell of bad writing (the whole of season 5) but it was also shown to be very aware of that fact and never took itself too seriously - unlike some shows I could mention. 

And regarding the ‘cheese’ factor (what 90s show wasn’t) It definitely can be, but I would call it ‘camp’ and ‘experimental’ more than anything else. (Don’t diss the poor use of CGI - I’m personally sympathetic to what was avaliable to them at the time) The style of humour reminded me of Taika Waititi’s filmmaking. If you’ve watched any of his films such as ‘Hunt for The Wilderpeople’ or ‘Jojo Rabbit’, then you know what I’m talking about. I liked how little they cared about being accurate or logical, which added to the ‘bonkers’ element in the show - which you can see in all of Taika Waititi’s films.

In all seriousness, a show centered around two women in their late twenties, who are realistic sizes (not trying to play teenagers). One of whom is a reformed mass murderer, who has lived a life experience, trying to do good in the world for the first time, picking the other one up who has no life experience prior (after they bugged them until they said ‘ok fine’) in their path to redemption. Just two women who become friends travelling the world together, fighting crime, having a laff, learning from one another without any toxicity - when suddenly when the stakes are raised - they realise ‘oh I'm actually falling in love with this person’ I have watched a lot of badly written shows in my childhood enough to know that, that’s not ‘cheesy’. I’ve never seen a story like that in my entire life. I’m not at all surprised that Russel T Davis was inspired by it while writing the Doctor and Rose’s relationship in ‘Doctor Who’ since he’s gay himself.

What’s more amazing about their love story is how they’re both develop as separate people as well. There was this video essay explaining ‘Why you should watch Angel’ the spin off series to Buffy; how ‘Buffy The Vampire Slayer ‘was all about growing up and ‘Angel’ was all about being an adult. With Xena: Warrior Princess, you have both of those stories at the same time. 

Xena’s character was such a multifaceted experience to watch. And I can’t imagine anyone else who could play her as well as Lucy Lawless. What planet did they get that actress from? She's flawless! The amount of skill she has to put herself into a very physical role is astonishing. I personally had a love/hate relationship with her character all series long. Not in the way that I hated her, just that I couldn’t trust if she was all good or bad, which I know was intentional on the writers part. I haven’t seen a character quite like her before. She felt very much like a fallen angel; almost like the villain of her own story. Some of my favourite episodes come from fleshing out her character and dark past (‘Locked up and Tied Down’ is one of them) which reminds the audience that's she's not the stereotypical hero everyone expects. I loved her transformation from being this incredibly stoic warrior to being content and happy with who she is in season six, all because of a woman she fell in love with along the way. 

I’ve always thought of Gabrielle as the real hero and narrator of ‘Xena’. She’s the prime example of ‘a normal person becoming extrodinary’. Gabrielle’s coming of age story starting out as an innocent girl from a poor village dreaming of adventure, and ending as this vicious warrior who realises the ‘adventure’ wasn’t how she made it out to be is honestly the best character arc that I’ve ever seen. I loved how travelling with Xena made her realise her passion for writing (which was never going to happen in her home town, given the ‘sexist’ and ‘heteronormative’ ideas) and that she became a amazon princess like Xena. In regards to her sexuality, which is more up for debate than Xena’s (which I think we can all agree is bisexual) I personally interpret her as gay, just in terms of how she was written. Theres this moment in season 4 where she's being held up her hair, and Xena “symbolically” cuts it off ‘freeing her’. And she never really gets with a man afterwards, unless she’s being ‘possessed. It reminded me of a moment in one of Hayao Miyasaki’s films ‘Laputa, Castle in the Sky’ where the bad guy Moska shoots Sheeta’s ‘princess hair off’ which symbolises her transition from child to adult.

The cinematography was breathtaking. There was some great utilisation of New Zealand as the scenery. So was the soundtrack. You could tell it was made by experienced filmmakers. One of my favourite things about the show was the domestic elements - moments in the show where time seemed to stop - which made the world around the characters seem very real and magical. Even though it was a show that featured a lot of action/adventure, there was also this gentleness to it as well. For example, you could feel the wetness of the rain, the warmth of the sun and the clashing of the waves. This technique is used in Hayao Miayasaki’s work a lot .

The technique is referred to as ‘MA’ 空虚 meaning emptiness in Japanese. ‘Miyasaki describes this as the time between a clap’

“If you just have non stop action, with no breathing space at all, its just busyness. But if you take a moment, then the tension building in the film can grow into a wider dimension” - Hayao Miyasaki

The episode ‘A Day in the Life’ in season two is a really good example of this technique being used.

To my understanding, they used a lot of the local actors in New Zealand, which according to Lucy Lawless, consisted of ‘African immigrants and other different ethnicites’. It was so refreshing to see such a diverse show (despite some slip ups) especially in the 90s. I appreciated the idea that if the actors or extras couldn’t do an ‘american accent’ people could just talk in their natural speech which was also very refreshing. 

The LGBT representation was surprisingly amazing. I never expected so many queer characters in one show - especially under the censors. There was this one episode where they had a trans woman - played by an actual trans actress - win a beauty contest. It made me cry. Not to mention the actress was an aids activist. It was actually Lucy Lawless’ idea to kiss her which was incredibly controversial at that time considering how everyone thought you could catch aids just by kissing. I can definitey see how it validated people back in the 90s.

When people told me that Xena: Warrior Princess was one of the greatest love stories, I thought they were exaggerating a little. But no, watching the show in context, I found out that it really is. Despite its obvious restrictions, It made me realise (regarding token gay couples today) how often television writers rely on physicality and drama to convey a ‘love story’ and how much of it is actually pandering the audience. One of the reasons why Xena and Gabrielle’s relationship felt so genuine is because it was built on mutual respect/compassion and they were also best friends. I felt like I was witnessing something very real and private. It didn’t need kissing scenes or drama to make it interesting. 

It really helped that most of the writers were queer also. There’s this opening scene in season 4, panning over to Gabrielle giving Xena a massage (metaphor for sex - because they weren’t able to show that on screen) which I consider to be one of the most iconic scenes in media - considering how I wanted to sick up my supper when I watched the 10 minute ‘empty’ explicit sex scene in ‘Blue in the Warmest Colour’. The difference when something is written by a queer women vs a straight man.

Because the creators weren’t allowed to write their love story in the normal way, due to the studio forbidding them to, they found creative ways to showcase that love on screen - which made for a very magical/sensual experience. And I can safely say, if anyone has doubts about watching ‘Xena’, whenever I expected to be queer baited at a few points in the show, I was proved wrong time and time again. It’s the most romantical show I’ve ever seen in my life!

[impala1967dwinchester]

Jensen Ackles: Green Eyes Meet

*Not My GIF* 

Paring: Jensen Ackles x Reader 

Pov: Jensen Ackles  

Rating: Adult Mature 

Warnings: Sexy Jensen, Green eyes addiction. Swearing, self-image problems, 

Summary: Jensen had never really liked his bright green eyes, but that ended after he met his new personal assistant on the Supernatural Set. Her green eyes grabbing his attention immediately, maybe he did like his green eyes afterall.  

Word Count : 1,653

Since I had been a kid I never liked my bright green eyes. Never was teased for them but the constant fawning over by girls in high school was annoying. That feature was like a crooked nose that everyone noticed and wanted to talk about behind your back, and sometimes in front of you, to you.

When I was a senior in high school my girlfriend was only with me because of that one feature, she had paraded me around to her friends, and family. Showing me off like I was a prize possession a toy. Not her boyfriend the boy she “loved”.

It was like my green eye was the only thing that people saw. Not my work, my thoughts, my personalities. Nothing. In college which was a fucking nightmare, there was another girl her name was Dorothy, she was so cute at least 20 years ago she was cute.

Her personality, her style everything about her was adorable. But yet again a failed relationship all because she was only there for my eye, yet again I have paraded around to parties, functions. Made to feel like she really “loved me”.

I again broke up and went through that motion. Finally, after 20 years I was not an adult but I was getting jobs. I did do a few modeling jobs, acting was sprinkled in too. Then what seemed like a big boom of celebration I was cast in the show Supernatural with a lifetime friend now Jared.

Years Later

Casting and building Supernatural was the best time of my life. A show that was dedicated to two brothers trying to save the world. A fan base that was amazing, best friends for the first time that wanted to be my friend because of me and not what I looked like.

Onset we all had our own personal assistant. Misha had an older woman in her late 30s her attitude every day was to make Misha smile and laugh, be in the goofy mood that every day had been presented.

Jared had another young woman late 20s. She was a fan of the show before we really hit off on the CW. She had gotten the job when she wanted to do an internship, and of course, with Jared being his normal passionate loving, caring person he loved her and always brought her to lunch she was more of a friend if Jared then his personal assistant.

I on the other hand had gone through what seemed to have been at least 6 or 7 younger, and older women. I guess you could compare it to prince charming trying to find Cinderella, every single girl had to size every girl had to have the position.

There was Ashley a young girl, she had brown shoulder-length hair, a straight smile, blue eyes, but she was all over the place with very bad ADHD. She simply wasn’t made for a schedule type of job, but I still made sure her reference papers were nicely written more focused on her great skills rather the ones that needed work.

There was Rebecca, she was middle-aged women, her two adorable kids was all she ever talked about but she was tired and could never keep up with the many types of different things we were always doing.

There was Annie. A straightforward mess of a person, she had a very bad RBF always thought I had done something wrong. I was very quick to say “I need a new personal assistant!”

There was Jessica. A sweet 20-year-old girl, a shorty with an attitude, and a very bad temper with everyone expect with me. I knew that would never work, so yet again I had to ask HR to find me a new PA.

There were Mrs.Miller older women in her late 40s. She was organized, and very sweet but she was sadly was only doing this job while her husband was out of a job. So she went which was quite sad, but I again had to ask.

Then there was Y/n. Her personality was all I ever wanted in a PA. She made life so easy, always at my trailer before I was with a coffee in hand for me and herself. An inquiry of what the day was packed with, always had my lines and would chat with me during lunch. She was exactly what I was looking for. Only after 5 years of yearning and wanting someone with the correct skills.

______________________       Jensen A.    ___________________________

After another 5 years, Y/n and I had the best friendship I have with anyone since I met Jared and Misha. She so sweet and kind, she’d pick me up drunk from the bar, or go with me to premiers of literally anything. We’d go out to see stupid horror movies or funny romcoms. We were like the best of best friends. We were definitely in the hall of best friends.

The many times I had come to Y/n rescue after douche bag dick heads had fucked her over. Leaving her at dinner by herself, driving her home to watch something, and eat a whole tub of ice cream. I was her rock and she was mine.

I never noticed that she and I had the same colored eyes until about two weeks ago when she had on this bright purple jacket. Her eyes popping with the contrast. She was the most beautiful that day she wore a purple jacket with a black turtleneck with a pair of cargo pants and lace-up boots. Just as beautiful as the first day I had met her and every day after that one.

She smelled of peppermint and roses, her makeup light and cute. The pink hue to her cheeks was so adorable. That day we had a few scenes and then an interview and that was it. I drove her home that night and slept blissfully.

As the weeks went on my need to be closer and always around Y/n grew stronger. We’d sit down for lunch and sit down next to her instead of in front of her. I’d bring her coffee during a rough patch.

But one day I think she started to catch on, she’d stop me every day and hug me, like it was the end of the world.

A knock on my trailer door

“Jensen, do you mind if I come in?” Her voice was timid and tired from a day worth of work.

“Yeah, of course, you can come in Y/n.” I got up and opened the trailer door. Her small built frame came into view. Today I hadn’t seen her but once in the morning and now. She was wearing a blue crop top, black pants, a pair of vans. Again such a beautiful as the first day I saw her.

She came in and sat down in her regular seat. She didn’t have any papers on notebooks with her. She probably just wanted to sit in silence enjoying the time together.

“Jensen, how was your day?” she asked.

“Y/n, my day was perfectly fine. How was yours?” This was odd, a normal conversation. This wasn’t what I was used to with her.

“My day was tuff. Do you mind if she just lay down for a minute was something on the tv? Too many thought going on right now.” Her words shy, it sounded as if she were going to cry.

I wrapped my hand around hers and dragged her towards the back of the trailer, a spot where we would relax after a hard day's work, talk about things, do what we wanted to do which was just sit down and watch something. She plopped down and pulled her shoes off, and sat beside her laying my arm out so she could lay down.

If others were to see us like this they would say that we were a couple. Something that I would love but I knew better, she knew better right?

“Jensen, thank you,” She said after a while. I hummed in response, the clock wrote 9:30 on it. It was late but I had clothes here so if we did end up falling asleep here it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Another hour went by, and Y/n got up. She faced me, sitting crisscrossed. Breathing in deep she began to speak, so I turned off the sound to the tv.

“Jensen, You are the best friend I have ever had. Something I don’t want to ruin with what I’m about to say, I’m going to tell you the truth about how I feel, how I’ve felt for the past five years. It’s hard for me because of course, I don’t know where you are emotional and everything, so here it goes. Jensen, I fell in love with you 5 years ago. I fell in love with your personality, your character, your passion, your love for others, your fans. I love fell in everything about you. This could ruin everything we have but I ho..”

She just looked so beautiful at that moment after so many years of loving her from afar. Jared had seen me fall in love with her, told me to just tell her, I was scared I’d ruin the friendship we had built. So I kissed her, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“I have loved you since the beginning too Y/n. You’re the smartest, most caring person I have met in a long time. You are so beautiful sorry I cut you off but I have been waiting to do that for a long time you know.” I said with my hands still pushed into her sides

She giggled, and leaned her head against mine, and hummed in response. And for the first time I felt like I was living my dream, I was with the person I truly love and that loved me back.

Tag List- @akshi8278​

[epicstuckyficrecs]

Weekly Recap | July 27-August 2nd 2020

Another big one this week! I discovered a new writer, can you guess who it is? 😆 

Complete

[Bucky is typing] by darter_blue/ @darter-blue​ (Shrunkyclunks | 4K | Mature): Steve just wants to wind down, post mission, with the silly cupcake game Clint downloaded onto his stark phone. He doesn't know who 'Bucky' is, or why he's texting Steve so aggressively. He doesn't mean to answer the phone and argue with the charming voice on the other end. He certainly never meant for the arguing to be interpreted as flirting... But maybe he should just go with it? Maybe Bucky is exactly the leap Steve needs to take, to find his way in the world again.

d-sides and rarities, Chapter 11. balcony + fairy lights  by Deisderium/ @deisderium​ (Shrunkyclunks | Teen): Pepper's PA keeps helping Steve with gala events and public appearances. Steve's trying to keep it professional. Good luck with that.

Helping You Out by darter_blue/ @darter-blue​ (PWP | 3,7K | Explicit): Steve is not having a great time here... attempting to find his own prostate. So of course, Sam's gorgeous best friend Bucky chooses this exact moment to walk into Steve and Sam's dorm room unnanounced.

Saké It To Me by Kalee60/ @kalee60​ (Shrunkyclunks | 8K | Teen): Being roped into speed dating was not how Bucky imagined spending his Friday night, especially when he realises some of these people might just be a little bit over his pay grade. But then Steve sits down, gorgeous, friendly and full of genuine warmth. Within mere minutes he manages to completely charm the pants off Bucky (or so his future self hopes). So why then, after such a strong connection, didn't Steve call him?

Tap That by Kalee60/ @kalee60​ (Meet-cute | 2K | General): When Steve is distracted while waiting at a busy crosswalk on the way to an important meeting, he inadvertently meets the man of his dreams - but only after making the most mortifying social gaffe of his life.Red faced and apologetic he tries to forget the incident.But sometimes when things go wrong - they suddenly turn out spectacularly right.

Pressure Points by darter_blue/ @darter-blue​ (Shrunkyclunks | 3K | Explicit): Bucky Barnes hates to fly. And this flight is starting out worse than normal. Except for the hot, built, blond sat beside him... Who has shoulders for days, a voice like molasses, and some very interesting ideas about how to ease Bucky's anxiety... (Part 1 of 💙 Pressure)

Under Pressure by darter_blue/ @darter-blue​ (Shrunkyclunks | 6K | Explicit): Bucky is still high off the sexy encounter he experienced with the super hot guy from his flight yesterday.Only today is not turning out quite so great. He could really use some more of that stress relief that Steve doled out so graciously on the plane.And he left Bucky his number right? Which means Bucky could just call him... See if he's busy...He's doing it - he's calling him. It's ringing. (Part 2 of 💙 Pressure)

High Pressure System by darter_blue/ @darter-blue​ (Shrunkyclunks | 8K | Explicit): So Steve ran out on him.Ran out saying 'I'll call, you' which everyone knows means Bucky just got ghosted. Except it turns out his booty call might be more than Bucky bargained for. How deep is he willing to dig to chase the answers to his questions? And why is he finding it so impossible to say no to this guy? Steve Rogers, who ARE you... (Part 3 of 💙 Pressure)

Pressure Rising by darter_blue/ @darter-blue​ (Shrunkyclunks | 7K | Explicit): Waking up in a farmhouse, on an apple orchard, in the arms of a man who could bench press a minivan, with eyelashes like a disney princess and shoulders like a greek god is Bucky's fantasy turned reality.Except this is sort of a kidnapping.And his life might be falling apart in the real world.And Bucky might not give a shit, because Steve Rogers is like a drug, and Bucky just can't get enough.Also, it turns out, maybe Bucky is a drug for Steve too... (Part 4 of 💙 Pressure)

Pressing You Down by darter_blue/ @darter-blue​ (Shrunkyclunks | 8K | Explicit): Steve Rogers is a master tactician, a supersoldier, a born leader. So why is it, as the team are closing in on an epic mission, two years in the making, that Bucky Barnes (and his thighs, lets face it, men have bled for less) and the possibility of he and Steve having a future together, might be enough to compromise everything his team have worked so long for.Actually, maybe it doesn't have to...Maybe everything is about to work out exactly the way Steve wants it to.Well... A man can dream. (Part 5 of 💙 Pressure)

💙 and the next by mcwho (Time traveling | 12K | Explicit): They have him in the common room of all places, and they won’t let Steve see him. or: a time-travel glitch lands 1936's bucky right in 2025 steve's lap

Reading in progress

Adorably awkward by darter_blue/ @darter-blue​ (Shrunkyclunks | 32K | Explicit): The one where Bucky uses Steve's car window as a mirror and Steve can appreciate the view...

WIP

💙 Heirloom by 2bestfriends/ @addyetc​ (Royalty AU, Arranged Marriage | 4/5 | 17K | Explicit): King Steven Grant Rogers of Aphekion is only 20 years old. He relies on the wisdom of his advisors, the strength and honesty of his people, and the love and kindness his mother left to him. He wants nothing more than to honor them all by bringing peace to his kingdom. So much has been sacrificed already. If he must sacrifice his hope for love, then so be it.

💙 Revenance by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel​, SinpaiCasanova (The Old Guard AU/The Song of Achilles AU | 2/? | 5K | Mature): And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone. Or, the one where Steve and Bucky are immortal and used to be known as Achilles and Patroclus.

💙 With Only You by brucespringsteen (Time Travel | 6/9 | 35K | Explicit): Steve, semi-retired and still a bastard who doesn’t follow rules, touches a cube that sends him to 1938, eighty-six years in the past. He takes it well. Bucky, twenty-one and baby-faced, takes it even better.

💙 Sergeant Barnes and Colonel Rogers: Lessons in Lust, Longing and Inappropriate Erections. by darter_blue/ @darter-blue​ (Shrunkyclunks | 1/4 | 5K | Explicit): Bucky Barnes is a decorated (though young) Sergeant in the United States Army, a Ranger with the 75th regiment, a sniper of unparalleled skill; he still expects his first day as an Avenger to be challenging. He is not at all prepared for the greatest challenge to be one hot as fuck, steely eyed, Colonel Rogers. More specifically, he is not expecting the greatest challenge to be keeping his dick under control whenever Colonel Rogers, with his broad shoulders and his authoritative command and his fucking thick, gorgeous beard, enters into Bucky's immediate vicinity.

💙 Tender is the Ghost by Hark_bananas/ @harkbananas​ (Post-WS | 6/12 | 70K | Explicit): This thought is uncontrollably followed by another one: I’m not alone anymore. He looks over his shoulder, through the kitchen door, to where Bucky is sitting at his usual place at the head of the dining table, and he feels an unconstrainable smile breaking out across his face, the barest hint of threatening tears along its bright edge. Bucky is still looking past Steve’s left ear, but slowly, gingerly, one side of his mouth quirks up. Steve feels giddy, he wants to shout, or faint, or something to relieve the carbonated pressure that is bubbling up inside of him. Instead, he laughs, short and cheerful, and opens the oven door. (Part 2 of Tender is the Ghost)

💙 A Call to Motion by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel​ (Uni AU | 2/? | 16K | Explicit): He was a jock, he did ballet, what more can I say? (aka: Steve’s football coach sends him to learn ballet to improve his game, Bucky is the dance TA tasked with teaching him).

💙  Bespoke by the1918/ @the1918​ (Shrunkyclunks, ABO AU | 7/10 | 72K | Explicit): “I love you, too. So fucking much,” Steve answered. His voice sounded cracked and exhausted, an exposed nerve ending in the shape of a man. “Some days I still don’t believe you’re real. Feels— feels like somehow, I’ve always loved you. Even when I didn’t know you.” Bucky smiled softly at that and felt his heart threaten to explode. Still straddling his lap, he reached a hand up to cup Steve’s cheek. “You’ve always known me,” he stated, simply. “I was made for you, remember?” (Part 2 of 💙Compatible)

💙 Songbird by chicklette/ @chicklette​ (Singer Bucky, Fake relationship | 13/15 | 61K | Explicit): At 43, James Barnes is a washed up old man. He’s got a dozen Grammys in the hall closet, an agent that can’t get him a deal, a decade-old case of writer’s block, a moody teen-aged daughter, and the gorgeous actress Natasha Romanova for an ex-wife. Enter Steven Grant Rogers, struggling twenty-something, orphan, and someone who has no idea who Barnes is. The two men meet by accident, doing nothing more than passing the time in a quiet bar. But when a pap gets a shot of the two men embracing, Bucky takes it as a chance to finally come out as bisexual, and his agent makes him a proposition: Ten new songs and one very sweet boyfriend will get him a new record deal that will maybe, just maybe put him back on top. Now all he has to do is write the songs, convince the kid, and not fall in love. Should be easy, right?

[mssleepy876b]

Family Ties Chapter 5

Summary: Family can be a positive and negative force in one's life. Detective Jay Halstead knows that personally and he helps a new Intelligence family member through it.

Requested? No. But promised @resanoona that I would post mine once she posted hers.

Word count: 1734

Warnings: domestic violence, PTSD possible

A/n: Unedited Sorry for any mistakes

Family Ties Chapter 5

Brielle’s father and Hank continued their discussion as the rest of Hank’s unit helped Brielle relax. “Damn it, Hank. It’s Brie. Why the hell didn’t you call me before? She’s been with your unit for hours.” He said sitting down on the couch in Hank’s office taking his head in his hands.

Hank moved to sit near him. “Jack, I didn’t know she was your Brie until I reached out to you. We didn’t have her name or address until about 8 this morning. Then I still didn’t want to assume until I saw her face to face and saw Alice looking back at me. I wasn’t with her when she cleared out of DiLeone’s place. Two of my detectives were. They helped her clear out photos, clothes she wanted, jewelry, and documents. They were looking over her documents in the last 20 minutes to see if they could find a way to get her on her feet and support herself without him. He was a leech. Her checks from the Center went to his accounts. Her cards, documents, and ID were all in his safe. He had his guys following her everywhere. She was never alone. Bet she never got to talk to you without him, did she?”

“I didn’t see it, Hank. I should have. I feel like I failed her. I should have gotten her out before he put his hands on her.” Jack said shaking his head.

Hank put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Trust me, Jack. I’ve been there. I have lost Camille, then Justin, and Erin moved to New York. My team and I will not let anything happen to Brie now that she is with us. She is family now. Michael is already in lockup. We are processing the paperwork for her formal statement; we have the medical documentation from Med. He is not going to see the streets for a while. Plus, I’ve been thinking, we have an opening here for a civilian administrative assistant. Her skills fit that bill plus who knows what else she can help with. It would make my team happy; Halstead seems to have taken her under his wing. It would let her rebuild her life on her own in Chicago and you would know someone was watching out for her.” Hank said.

“I won’t let her feel forced into anything, Hank. It has to be her choice. If this is it, I know she will be safe. You and Halstead have reputations for being out for blood if they hurt anyone close to you according to my old contacts.” Jack said.

“I promise we will let her decide. Dr. Choi warned me as did Halstead she shows signs of possible PTSD, so we are being cautious. She has built a trust with Halstead and Upton. The other girls just met her. We will keep her safe, Jack, I swear it. You know how protective of family I get.” Hank said. “Do you want to try to see her?” he asked standing.

Jack nodded and they left the office. Hailey, Kim, and Vanessa were talking to Brie making her feel comfortable and secure. They entered and saw the girls together. Brie was partially smiling. Brie’s eyes met her father’s and she paled slightly. “Dad?” she whispered.

“Hiya, Princess.” He said as Hailey, Kim, and Vanessa all turned to see him and Hank at the door.

Brie stood and went to her father who met her halfway and pulled her into a hug. Hailey, Kim, and Vanessa quietly slid out as Brie and her dad reunited. He helped her sit on the couch. “What did the Doctors at Med say, Brie?” he asked her as he held her hand.

“Dr. Choi said I was lucky. Nothing major other than bruising. It could have been so much worse, Dad. I swear he had never hit me before, Dad. He had yelled, thrown things, but never put his hands on me until last night. I ran once I could. Found my way here. I guess Detective Halstead saw me first. He made me feel safe. He has helped me with the dreams and memories too. It is so scary, Dad.” She said leaning against his shoulder.

“I’m so grateful that you are safe, Brie. When I went to the house and couldn’t find you or your pictures, or your personal stuff in your sitting room, I was scared out of my wits. Michael wouldn’t answer my calls. I knew you weren’t at work because I had gone there before the house. I had no clue where you were, but I knew something was up when I saw your engagement ring was sitting on the table with your house keys.” He said holding her closer.

They sat together for a few moments before Jack spoke up. “It must be luck that you ended up here with Voight’s unit. He and I worked together years ago. I knew him back when he met his late wife Camille. They were great friends of your mom’s and mine. We had lost touch after Camille’s passing due to cancer. I thought he had hidden you from me at first when I got here. That is why I was yelling. I’m sorry we upset you, Brie. But I must say that Detective has quite a backbone to stand up to both Hank and I for you. It was very surprising.” He said.

Brie smiled. “He seems like a good man, Dad. Everyone seems to respect him. Even at Med, they respected him and his brother there.” She said quietly.

Jack moved to look in Brie’s eyes. “You know you can’t go back to the Charity Center, right, Brie?”

“I do. I hate it. I loved that job. But it would be too easy for Michael to find me.” She said.

“Hank had an idea. They need an administrative assistant/office manager up here in Intelligence. He thought your skills might be a good fit and it would give you a chance to get back on your feet in a place where you feel safe around people you know.” Jack said.

“But where will I stay, Dad? I can’t come to you and mom. He will look there first. I can’t risk you getting harmed. I don’t have any money right now. He took it all. Convinced me to let him handle it all.” Brie said with tears in her eyes.

“Let me talk to Hank. See what we can do temporarily for you until you can get funds on your own and Michael has been formally charged.” Jack said rubbing her arm as she pulled away from him. She nodded and watched as he stepped into Hank’s office next door.

Hank and Jack had Brie stay with Hank for a few days. It was nice for Hank to revisit the memories with Brielle and Jack. Alice came into town the next day to join them and helped Jack and Brielle as Brielle began to heal from her injuries. Hank smiled coming home that next day once Alice arrived. He missed the feel of friends in his house and Alice’s warmth reminded him of Camille. Alice was grateful to Hank and would ensure that they all had meals at night until they could find Brie a place to set up as her own and feel safe with.

Brielle spent a few sessions with Dr. Charles from Med who helped her move past her assault as well as the controlling behavior Michael had used to isolate her with. He helped her create a plan for rebuilding her life and moving past the memories. She started to feel more solid and stable in her life.

The intelligence unit had taken Brie under their wings and introduced her to the groups at Molly’s and widened her circle of friends she could get help from. She found them all warm and made her feel as if she was safe again. She began to search out a new life for herself and knew that her place seemed to be at the 21st with the intelligence unit.

Kim, Hailey, and Vanessa all took Brie under their wing and she quickly felt like part of the girls’ group which at times included the girls from 51’s 2ndshift and Med’s ED. Brie decided to take the position in Intelligence if Hank would allow it. She enjoyed this group of people who seemed to want to help her and let her create her own life while having her back if she needed them. Jay became a familiar face for Brielle and Brie found in him a kind person that she could respect and feel like a man that she would be proud to call a friend.

Hank and Trudy quickly got the paperwork set for her to take the job in Intelligence. Brie quickly had things organized and ready to go and at the Unit’s fingertips any time it was needed thanks to her skills from the Charity office. She also had managed to assist the unit with her accounting skills to track down how a payment had been made during a case. She had an apartment of her own that she was able to rent not far from Jay’s and was beginning to feel like her life was her own.

Only once had Brie heard from Angelo DiLeone. His message told her that Michael’s actions were not approved of and the family would not keep him from serving the sentence he had received. She felt a little more reassured since Angelo had never lied to her and had said more than once that she was someone he respected even if others didn’t.

Michael had yet to find her or even contact her. She still screened her phone calls as well as watched her surroundings for suspicious activity. Jay, Hank, and Hailey taught her skills to help her feel safer. Hailey had actually helped her learn self-defensive techniques that she felt would help in an emergency.

She had rebuilt her relationship with her parents only seeing them in Chicago when they chose to come once she had finished her recovery at Hank’s. They always met out in public and never at her apartment as she knew the time would come when Michael would be out of prison and she feared that he would only want revenge.