#nostalgia always looks better in the rear view you know

[wwxsflutesolo]

Something something an aspect of stick season I don’t see talked about much is how, you might not, but even if you *do* leave your hometown, it never really leaves you

[onyxheartbeat]

Diary entry, February 20th,

I went to see him because it had been three days. I missed him so much. I didn’t tell him I was coming, I think because deep down I knew he would’ve said today wasn’t a good day. I stopped at the beach first. There were so many people out there today, walking on the Great Highway. There were cirrus clouds, so I hoped maybe there’d be a decent sunset, if I couldn’t stay the night. The sun was shining. It wasn’t that cold, compared to how it’s been lately. I messaged him that I’d come and that I was at the beach, but he said he was having a bad day. He told me to give him 20 mins. I told him I didn’t have to stay long, although I wanted so much to spend the night. I walked to the water and let my feet feel that familiar chill. I listened to The Cure in my earphones. I still can’t believe that I’ve come full circle. I realized my love for this man while walking on that beach years ago. I lost my phone which was filled with his messages there. The ocean drowned our Saturday night conversations. It drowned his phone too. The earliest parts of our story are lost somewhere in those waves. I walked back to the Great Highway, and he messaged me I could come over. When I arrived, he had his frankincense burning again. I wonder if he truly loves the scent or if he’s simply seeking nostalgia due to his mom’s passing, or perhaps he’s finding a relationship with God again. It could be all of that. I was melancholy when I saw him. His energy was a little different. Still, it was nice to see him sober. I hugged him and I think he sensed that I really wanted to be there. I put the duck confit I’d brought him in his fridge and saw that the kitchen was much emptier. He said he’d been getting rid of stuff over the weekend; kitchenware that’s older than him that he’s had sentimental attachment to but didn’t want to move across country. We sat on the couch together. He was in a great deal of pain, not from his back or rib this time, but his left arm. We don’t know what happened. It was sore the last time I saw him and he’d been wearing a sleeve for it. I thought maybe he was wearing it to help with his shakes from the withdrawals but he says it’s a nerve or something from his upper shoulder down to his elbow. He says he’s experienced it before. I hope it doesn’t have any relation to his disease. Any left arm pain he has will always make me worry. We talked a bit, but I was quiet for the most part. I wanted him to pick up on my loneliness about him leaving and comfort me. For a change, I wanted to be the one broken and needing. But he couldn’t sit still, and kept moving his arm and getting up to walk around. He told me he was sorry to ask for a short visit this time. I acted like it was fine, but I wanted so badly to just lie down in the bedroom. He asked “What prompted the visit?” I said “I just missed you.” He went into how it’s for the best we get used to that. But I don’t see what good that does to build anticipation, or emotional preparedness towards him leaving. It will never make sense to me. I just want to be present with each other until the last possible moment. I held it in and just concentrated on his hand massaging my head. I put my head on his lap for a while. I wasn’t there long, but he did tell me he was sorry and that we would have another night together. “Hey,” he said, and paused to make me look him in the eyes to tell me that we’ll have another night. His eyes look much better. So much more clear and focused, but I didn’t look at them long. I think he was embarrassed by the pain he was going through. I also couldn’t look at them today without feeling an intense sadness about how we must part. It feels real now. It gets more real every day. It shouldn’t happen. He shouldn’t be leaving. I told him I called my ride, and we kissed goodbye. I cried on the way home. There was a pretty sunset in the rear view; golden with a little blush coming off the cirrus clouds. I just wanted the car to turn around. I wanted to drown myself in the ocean so I never live in this world without him again.

[mangodestroyer]

I think I'm getting to the point where my nostalgia for old media is wearing off.

I get that it was all made during a different time, but a lot of things from the 80's, 90's, and 2000's that I used to indulge in just didn't age well. There's just too much casual misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia, for one. Not all shows, books, games, etc. were like this, ofc. Some media, you could tell was kind of making fun of discrimination and wanted to secretly support the LGBTQ+ (but couldn't openly do so for obvious reasons). And there are also tons of good female characters in old media who were not shown in a misogynistic light.

But then you see all the jokes about how awful, catty, impulsive, and emotional women are. How it's always implied that men are just the superior sex/gender, and the only thing women have over them is that they are... more nurturing ig??? Some sitcoms are just unwatchable because they especially tend stoop to this level. All the women are the same. Barely able to tolerate each other, very emotional and bitchy for "no reason," and overly obsessed with the idea of having babies and being with a man.

I'm not saying we should cancel this old media or whatever. I am fully aware that people are able to separate fiction from reality. I know people who can watch this content and still not be an a-hole. Although I also know people who still carry views like this about women, or get mad over "men in dresses." And yeah... I don't talk to those people if I can help it.

But for me personally? After hanging around in the real world for a while and realizing how rampant discrimination is, I can't stomach that content anymore.

It's more than just discrimination too. The old conservative views are also just unappealing to me. Being overly judgmental of anything that's outside of the norm, worshipping work culture (glorifying toxic practices and mocking those who can't work full-time/want to live a simple life), thinking it's stupid for people to care about the environment and world peace, etc. Ig this was all supposed to be funny, but this "boomer humor", as some people call it, really isn't funny. Speaking of bad humor...

"I can't stand my wife!" Gross! It's especially gross since men during that time had even more power over women than they do now. A wife was also a free servant and free childcare 24/7 back in the day. Sometimes, women worked and did all the child rearing and housework. And anyone who's been around the block also knows that the bedroom stuff was 100% on the man's terms. Actually, there are still relationships like this nowadays. But it brings me joy knowing that less and less women are getting into relationships because they don't want to be treated like that anymore (yes, studies are showing that more women are single and refusing to have kids or get married).

Idk, there just tends to be a general vibe in some of this media that rubs me the wrong way. It's very clear to me that it was written during a time when less people were aware of the problems with the world. I mean, the characters just act like they're very sheltered and ignorant.

I like how newer media works to correct some of this. Especially indie projects. They tend to embrace diversity more and accept reality for what it is. Plus, story telling as an art form continues to evolve over the years. People nowadays seem to focus more on character arcs on top of writing a compelling story. Many stories from the past seemed to use characters as tools for the plot rather than showing them as people. They didn't want characters too seem "too weak" or whatever. That's how it feels to me, anyway. I think people realized that slice of life elements can actually be fun and build on the characters, rather than slog the story down.

I know people are afraid of change. Sometimes, I am too. But sometimes, it really is for the better. I know people like to look at the past and say that things, especially stories, were better back then. And that maybe be true with how companies keep messing around with writer's these days. But when given the freedom to do what they want, I think writer's have actually gotten better at their craft.

[green-ville]

This is 13k words because I kept adding scenes from the movie. Disclaimer, I tried to make it as close to the movie as possible but I've only seen it twice. It's not entirely accurate. It is more a short story because there were just a lot of scenes I wanted to have, but for the most part, they focus on Hangman and Junior's interactions.

Songs in this work that I recommend: In The Navy and Macho Man (Village People), Surrender (Cheap Trick)

18+, minors DNI

__________________________________________________

“Its been ages since I’ve been here,” Junior observed, standing from the bike and passing her helmet to her dad.

“I bet you can say that about a lot of bars.”

“That’s uncalled for.”

He grinned at her.

They walked in together and while he took the place in, her eyes went straight to the bartender. Last she had been here she knew the bartenders on a first name basis. That had been years ago though and she expected new ones to have come.

This one was new alright. Junior knew her anyway. She elbowed her dad lightly. “2 o’clock.”

“You tryna find me a date already?. . .Oh.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, patting him on the shoulders, pushing him forward. “This is gonna be good.” It was going to be great. She sat him at the bar, taking a seat beside him, and it wasn’t long before the famed Penny was turning their way.

Her dad was still in disbelief.

Junior’s grin slipped into a smirk. “Penny, it’s good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too Junior. Still flying?”

“Haven’t crashed yet.” She crossed her fingers. “You work here?”

“I own here. A beer?”

“Please and thank you.”

A beer found its way into her hands. Junior stood, prepared to part, when a trio came in. It was a night of nostalgia, apparently, because she recognized them. She whistled at the head of the group, making it sound like a catcall.

The girl’s head whipped over, fury burning, and Junior was laughing as that fury evaporated.

“I’m sorry, I had to.”

“You haven’t changed at all Junior.”

“I like to keep consistent Phoenix.”

They met in a hug, hard pats on the back filled with love. Phoenix was dressed in her beiges, the epitome of put together whereas Junior matched a pair of shorts with a tank top. It was too hot and humid to deal with long pants when she didn’t need to.

“Payback, Fanboy, you keeping her out of trouble?” Junior asked, pulling them into their own hugs.

“Please, they get me into more trouble than I ever started.”

“Untrue,” Fanboy disclaimed. “It’s a shock we haven’t been kicked out yet. I don’t know why we were called back when it’s nothing but trouble with this one.”

“I wonder why you were called back too,” a fifth voice joined in the mix, calling over the background music.

Phoenix’s face fell already, taking on that standard, characteristic unimpressed look. She pivoted on her heel and Junior followed the group forward, taking up the rear.

The man that had spoke was tall, large, and confident. Sandy hair, blue eyes, sun kissed skin. His personality screamed open book and he didn’t mind, knowing he backed everything he presented.

“Guys, this is Bagman.”

“Hangman.”

“Whatever.”

“Phoenix, always a pleasure. I didn’t realize you had friends.”

“It makes sense you’d have trouble recognizing them. Maybe one day you’ll get your own.”

“Don’t hurt poor Coyote’s feelings,” Hangman frowned sarcastically, eyes on the two silent men in the group. “Do they speak on their own or do they need commands?”

“Do you like treats better or squeaky toys?” Junior asked.

Fanboy snorted, hand over his nose from the beer that came out of it. She smiled, Payback moving out of the way to give the other two a better view of her. She could’ve done without that, but it was her fault for speaking up.

“And who do we have – “

The doors opened just loudly for attention to be pulled away from her. They all turned, and when she spotted the newcomer, that was her turn to dip out. Her head ducked and as he made his way forward, she disappeared into the crowd on the other side of the post. She told her dad she was going for a walk and he nodded, telling her to be safe.

He was distanced. He had spotted the newcomer as well. Looks like the night wasn’t going to be what either of them thought. They didn’t know they’d spot him so soon, and he was bold. A Hawaiian shirt and aviators to contrast everyone else in their beiges.

He looked like the pictures of his dad.

Junior knew in that moment that it would be messy. Iceman was a good man, but she didn’t know if he made the right decision bringing her dad back to Top Gun. Especially with everything that had happened between him and the Bradshaw family.

~

“Is this seat open?”

“For you? No.”

Hangman sat in it anyway, smirking to her. “Didn’t realize I’d be seeing you here.”

“I could say the same for you.”

“I was top of my class sweetheart. I’m right where I belong.”

“I should’ve clarified; I’m surprised you’re still allowed in after what you did last night.”

“And what did I do last night?”

“I’m sure the brain in that pretty little head of yours will figure it out soon.”

Admiral Cyclone arrived, and they were silenced. He started the introduction as the shoes of her dad signaled his entrance. Leisure. Easy. Confident.

Heads turned to look behind them. Junior was the only one to never look away from the Admiral. She smirked, hearing an ‘oh shit’ sigh behind her.

The man beside her looked like he wanted to hang his head.

She leaned towards him; words quiet, grin massive. “Hang in there. I’m sure the old man is forgiving.”

He gave her a look. “Daughter?”

“I knew there was a brain in there.”

~

“Well if it isn’t the life of the party,” he greeted, the smirk naturally coming up to set on his face. He rested against the pool stick, muscles tight in his fitted shirt.

He had an infuriating smirk. It triggered everything inside her, though she wouldn’t admit to even half of it. He wore that smirk like he wore his uniform. It was part of his personality and it would never leave.

“Is there a mirror you’re looking at behind me?” Junior asked, leaning against Bob. She turned her head, finding the post beside her. It had a head sized mirror. She clicked her tongue. “Well lookie there.”

“I was concerned for a second,” Phoenix said. “Thought Bagman was actually complimenting someone besides himself. How stupid of me.”

“Well I wasn’t going to say anything,” he grinned to Phoenix. “I figured bottom of the class knows they’re bottom of the class in the same way top of the class recognizes they’re top of the class.”

“And I do,” Junior answered, nodding to him. “It feels good being the best of the best, thank you for acknowledging me. My life is complete with your recognition.”

His eyes sparkled. Absolutely infuriating. Her skin crawled.

“You think earlier was best of the best material? You lasted two minutes before getting shot down. Even Rooster got three.”

“I’m not surprised you’re a time guy. The quality of the flying is more important than the time flown.”

Phoenix raised her fist. Junior bumped it.

He held up his hands, chuckling in a way that had her wanting to break that pool stick over his back. “I’m a diverse man; quality and time are both important. I didn’t mention quality because there was nothing quality about it. Maybe Pops should’ve pulled your papers instead of Roosters.”

He was good. Damnit. Phoenix hadn’t been lying.

“Big talk now,” Junior began, eyes on him, never leaving him. “But that mission’s coming up real quick, and I know who dear old Pops is gonna pick.” A slow smirk came up, almost malicious in its presence. “And it looks like Hangman’s gonna be left hanging.”

She turned, the sense of accomplishment she felt immeasurable. She knew he was still watching her as she left the bar and she’d never forget the feeling of absolute victory.

~

The whistle was blown. Sand kicked back. Bodies rushed forward with a single goal.

Phoenix caught one of the two footballs in play and before she could be taken down, she threw it to the spot Junior would soon be. Junior snatched it from the air and side threw it to Bob. He did a poor job of hiding his surprise and was slow to run. He was tackled before getting them their point.

Junior shook her head, arms crossed over her chest as Hangman popped up from the pile of bodies with Coyote. They chest bumped as she turned away, calling her group in. They huddled, heads together.

“Hangman’s an issue,” Junior said. “We need to take him out before he can take us out.”

Halo pulled out a knife.

Concerning.

“I like the enthusiasm; let’s call that plan B.”

She put the knife away.

“We take out Hangman and we should have a clearer shot,” Rooster said. “Junior, that’s your job. Phoenix or Halo, get yourselves open. You’ll have an easier time getting around so I’m throwing to you. Everyone else, that means you’re clearing the way for them.”

“Break.”

They took up their positions. Hondo blew the whistle and they were on.

Junior made a beeline for one man, ducking and weaving under arms, and jumping in front of him, effectively breaking his line of concentration. He brought them to the ground, unable to stop himself in time and colliding with her hard. His body was against hers; hot, sweaty, covered in sand.

She rolled them over, on top of him with a smirk on her face. “Better luck next time Hangman.”

He had a smirk to match. “I’m feeling pretty lucky right now.” Behind the sunglasses, his eyes struggled to remain on her eyes.

The sports bra had been intentfully chosen. It had a nice way of pushing the girls up and he seemed to appreciate this just as much as she appreciated his lack of shirt.

She gave a singular ‘ha’ getting off of him and holding out a hand for him. She looked back, smirk deepening. “And the point is ours,” she said, turning back to face him.

The height difference. She knew several words that could describe it but the two best ones were ‘fucking shit’.

“One point now, but you’ll never make another one, because your ass is mine now baby.”

“Oh, promises promises.”

They set up again. She knew he was watching her like a hawk and she made sure to never look back. But her crouch did lower, her ass sticking out more.

The whistle was blown and she bolted, smaller figure than the built males giving her an easier time slipping through the mix. She turned, running backwards, and the football was thrown to her.

She jumped up, spotting him from a mile away. Running at her, a man on a mission. He’d tackle her the second she got the ball and she’d be hitting the ground hard, not in a run. But that was what she wanted.

Her decision was made before the play even started.

She caught the throw. His shoulder was in her gut. The air was out of her lungs, and the ball was out of her grip, thrown directly to a waving Phoenix. A quick maneuver that she was prepared for, ducking below Payback and running her way to touchdown.

Junior stood corrected. She wasn’t slammed into the ground, Hangman kept her on his shoulder.

“That’s another point for my team Hangman,” she called, twisting her head to look at the back of his. His hands were on her thighs and she was wearing shorts; it was fairly distracting.

“I believe I said you’d never make another point Junior. And uh – “

A scream shocked out of her, hands on her hips and pushing her off. Gravity took hold and she fell into water. Cold water due to the blazing sun that she’d been soaking up for well over an hour.

Her head went under and she spluttered coming up, baby hairs clinging to her forehead, short braids longer now.

“You didn’t make the point sweetheart,” he finished, smirking.

“Dick,” she said, her smartest response. She held out her hand and he made to help her up, but she yanked with all her might and brought him down with her. She knew he didn’t fall without wanting to; she was half his size and in an unstable position.

He fell anyway, and she rolled on top of him, laughing as his head went underwater.

“Junior!” Her dad called. “You coming back or what?!”

“Just a minute!”

“. . .What’re you doing?”

“Nothing – ah!”

And just like that, she was off him again, splashing beside him as he broke the surface. He inhaled deeply, head shaking to the sides and water splashing her. His hair was fluffed by the ‘air dry’, not exactly a bad look on him.

“Were you drowning Hangman?” Her dad called, a smile on his face. “Junior, this is a trust building exercise.”

“Trust me sir,” Hangman called back. “She doesn’t have the strength to hold me down.”

“Why don’t we get back to the game and see who’s strongest then?” Junior asked, standing up, offering her hand. Her shorts were wet now. She knew they were hanging a little lower, exposing more of her stomach, and he sure did take his time accepting her hand.

When he did, he grinned down at her. “Game on Junior. You’re going down.”

She led, glancing back at him to ask, “on who?” with a wink.

~

She was aiming for the red solid, and that was what went into the pocket. The door closed loudly for her second hit and she missed that one, almost knocking the eight ball in. Bob whistled, setting himself up for his shot.

“Junior,” Hangman greeted. “Maybe if you spent as much time in the air as you spent here you’d finally be like Pops.”

“With how many buttons you try to push you’d think one of them was ‘off’.”

He came up right beside her, keeping close as Bob took his turn.

“This isn’t me pushing buttons.” His blue eyes looked down. They met her a second later. “Not yet, at least.”

She clicked her tongue, brows high. “Extra cocky today I see. That earlier bit of flying wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would it?”

“That earlier bit of superior, impeccable flying?” He corrected, head tilted up in thoughtful consideration. “It just might. Fly high, ride high, and I’m riding very high now. So high that I’m offering my help.”

“Pray tell, what help are you offering and why would you consider it help?”

“You’re losing the game,” Hangman observed, smirk in place. “On top of being an expert fighter pilot, I’m also an expert pool player. Allow me to teach you a few things.”

There wasn’t a cockier man in existence.

She turned to him, not even a foot of space between them. Any other time she wouldn’t be so bold with herself in public (the audacity of herself to think this after the beach game), but Phoenix had pulled Bob away for something. They had the pool table to themselves for a short time.

Which is why she faced him; head angled up in contrast to his angled down. Even his eyebrow was cocked.

He had the most punchable face and she’d risk being banned from the bar just to land a solid punch on it.

“I think I’d rather have Bob teach me a few things.” His grin slid into a smirk. His cheeks dimpled. “Afterall, he is the one winning and you’re not even in the game.”

“Not even in the game? Honey, you started the game.”

She clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about Hangman. I started this game with Bob. He’s so. . .intelligent, kind, handsome.” With each word, she could see the determination setting in deeper. He smelled like gum and aftershave. An insufferable combination for an insufferable man. “Strong too.”

“Well I tick three of those,” Hangman nodded once, “let’s tick that fourth now.”

His hands were on her hips, soft but leading.

She would have jumped him right there if they weren’t out in public, and she knew he knew that too.

Her grip on the pool stick left her knuckles white. He faced her away, stepping closer yet and when she bent down, he was right over her. His arms were around her, his voice near her ear as he told her to loosen up on the stick.

“Careful now,” the words took their time coming out because any faster and they’d be hoarse. “One call from Penny and Pops is coming.”

“What could possibly be more innocent than teaching a helpless damsel a few pool tricks?”

Her hips pushed back.

“Whoops,” his breath had caught and she was failing to hide her grin as she returned to place. “Slipped. Which hole are you aiming for?”

“Either is fine for me.”

He led the hit, but she held back, and so when the ball was struck it stopped just in front of the pocket.

She was sympathetic as she stood, apology as sarcastic as his kindness. She leaned against her pool stick, perfectly at ease while everything inside of her was on fire. “Looks like you came up short Hangman. No hole tonight.” She passed the pool stick over, patting him on the side of his arm. Even relaxed it was solid muscle. “Say, Mr. Kind Guy, why don’t you finish up this game with Bob while I get some more flight time in? You know, to improve my quality.”

“Have fun Junior. Don’t miss me too much.”

“I’ll try to contain myself.”

~

“What is this between you and Hangman?” Phoenix asked. “Because I hate it.”

“Friendly competition.”

“Friendly?” She snorted. “I thought you were going to ride him on the pool table.”

“Exactly, friendly.”

She rolled her eyes. “And what does the Captain have to say about this?”

“The Captain has no say in my, term used loosely, love life. He does not comment on it and I don’t comment on his.”

“Whatever you say Junior. Just don’t give his ego a boost. I can hardly handle him now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it Phoenix.”

That was where the normal stopped.

The day’s plans changed.

They attended a funeral instead.

Back at base, she waited well over an hour for him to return from a meeting. She couldn’t move from her position. One hour became two. Three.

He came home and she stood.

In the darkness, she looked at him. He was looking down.

“I don’t like that look,” she said, quiet in effort but loud in the silence.

He nodded his head once, a little smile forming. “Yeah, you won’t.”

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I may only be a Captain, but that’s still above your rank.”

“Give it a year,” she said, and he smiled at her, going to bed.

The next day she found out what that look in her dad’s eyes was.

Admiral Cyclone addressed them. He would be teaching them from now on. He was changing the time limit, the speed they’d be flying, the height they could fly to. He was increasing their risk of death with each decision, and she should have guessed that her dad would pull something like this.

An F-18 flashed into existence on the screen. Her dad’s voice came from the hidden speakers.

Admiral Cyclone turned. They rest of the flyers leaned forward. Junior put her head in her hands.

The time moved from 4 minutes to 2:15.

Her head never raised.

The timer stopped short, preceded by a perfect hit. Finished by a perfect execution.

She waited in a dark room again. This time her wait was shorter. An hour instead of three.

He came in and she didn’t stand. She looked at him from her seat.

He stopped. “You’re mad at me.”

“When am I not mad at you?” She asked.

“What did I do?”

“Why did Admiral Cyclone talk to you?”

“I’m no longer grounded. I’ll be leading the mission.”

“And you’re taking Payback, Fanboy, Phoenix, Bob, and who,” she asked, knowing the answer. “Rooster?”

“You don’t think it’s a good decision.”

“I don’t think either of you should be flying.”

“You’re upset about being grounded – “

At this she stood, because the very idea set off a fire inside her so deep she wanted to punch a hole in the wall. “No.” The word was ground out through tight teeth. Her fist was balled at her side. “No. Don’t you think for one second that I ever expected to fly this mission. I knew the second you were given your orders I’d be grounded, and I made my peace with it before we did our first dogfight. What I’m mad about, is your thinking.

“I get it, you care about Rooster. A part of you will always blame yourself for Goose’s death; but fucking up with Rooster now is not how you make up for it. You pulled his papers because he wasn’t ready. He may hate you but at least he’s alive to hate you. Now you’re trying to compensate by letting him go; but he’s still not ready. He’s gonna screw up and then it won’t just be one person not coming back, but the entire team.”

She breathed in through her nose. She exhaled, none of her anger leaving with it. “Do whatever you want dad, but don’t pretend for one second that Rooster is the better option over Hangman.”

She left him in the dark, restraining herself from slamming the door.

~

He stood there, official. Presentable. Actually looking like a teacher and not someone that wished they could avoid higher ranks.

She blocked out his beginning. How it was an honor to fly with them. He did it because he had to. He didn’t want to. He did it because his longest friend had asked him to and not because he wanted to rise up to the challenge.

He always faced challenges himself. If he took the hit, at least it was him taking the hit. Then he didn’t have to blame himself for anyone else.

When the names came, they were exactly as expected.

“Payback and Fanboy. Phoenix and Bob.”

They were great, it wasn’t a surprise.

“Rooster.”

There it was. Selfish. To right a wrong he thought he made, but he’d really only saved the idiot. He wasn’t ready then, he still wasn’t ready now. The fact that neither of them could acknowledge it was what boiled her so much.

“And leading the mission; Junior.”

She blinked.

Phoenix turned, staring at her in shock.

Junior wasn’t functioning.

There was movement next. Fist bumps. Pats on the shoulder. Nods of surprising approval.

What the fuck.

~

“Junior.”

She stood, making sure to not hit her head on the underbelly of her jet as she faced the Captain.

“Yes sir.”

They were the same height but carried themselves differently. He was relaxed. The lines around his eyes from laughing, not stress. The grey softly streaking in his hair. She was a tighter relaxed. On edge which was only visible by the people that knew her best.

“You’re still mad at me.”

“I only question the reasoning behind your decision, sir.”

“Only?” He smiled; her phrasing humorous to him. The smile slipped as he took a more serious tone, something as foreign to him as being told ‘yes’ the first time around. “I. . .It’s my fault that you never believed you’d fly this mission. Everyone started with equal chances and my placement as the teacher shouldn’t have led you to believe you were disqualified. My decision is not entirely based on what you said, rather the validity of your skills. Just as I know Rooster is the man for this mission, I know you’re the woman to lead it.”

He had to get the last part in there. He knew Rooster was the man for the mission.

“And Hangman, sir? What disqualified him.”

“Certainly not skill,” he disclaimed. “Hangman is a great pilot. Rooster can be a great one too and I believe this is what he needs to get there.”

Maybe there was a brain in that head of his.

She nodded to him.

He pat her on the shoulder, smiling to her one final time. “You got this Junior. We’ll go for ice cream when you come home.”

“I’m not six anymore dad.”

“I saw the ice cream you have in your fridge, don’t pretend to not still like it.”

He pinched her cheek as he stepped away and she slapped his hand, laughing. “Stop it.”

“Maybe ice creams a bad idea, have you put on weight?”

“Oh you’re one to talk! With all those push ups how could I put on weight?”

“Hey, maybe you should’ve flown better.”

“I’m kicking your ass when I get back. Respectfully, sir.”

“It’s like staring in a mirror sometimes.”

She was smiling as she turned away, and it felt like she had just finished her exterior check when she was in a shadow.

She turned, head raising to look him in the eyes.

The silence was heavy. The uniform she wore was already heavy and she was sweating a grotesque amount. Not anything she wasn’t used to, but it certainly hadn’t gotten any nicer as the years flew on.

“I’ve got your ass if you need it.”

She smirked. “I’m sure you’ll be watching it the entire time.”

“What can I say, I’m a man that likes a view.”

“How about a game of pool when I come back?”

He whistled, eyes to the sky, the blue shining. “Careful now sweetheart, kinda forward there.”

“Someone had to be and it certainly wasn’t going to be you taking charge.”

He slapped a hand against his heart. “Words hurt, dear Junior. Not as much as getting your ass kicked in pool. You’re on. Be prepared to lose.”

“I’ll have you eating your words before the nights over.”

“That’s not the only thing I’ll be eating.” He winked at her and walked off.

She couldn’t wipe the grin off her face.

There was a gag behind her and she moved around her plane, spotting Phoenix halfway up the ladder. She and Bob were looking at her.

“Were you seriously listening the entire time?”

“No,” Phoenix answered. “Most of the time. I still hate this, by the way.”

“Junior, really? Him?”

“Don’t judge me Bob and get in the jet. I’m ready to take off.”

~

It was hard to describe the feeling of taking off of an aircraft carrier because she still, to this day, had not found something like it. There was taking off a runway, there was taking off out a field, there was nothing like taking off a carrier.

That pull. The weight in her hands. The wind the fighter jet sliced through that never hit her, but it still felt like it could be on her. Blowing her hair back. Wiping the sweat from her face.

Dagger 3 flanked to her left.

Dagger 2 joined at her right.

Dagger 4 took the rear.

They descended below the clouds as a group, going below radar. The ocean below them was so close she could have tipped to the side and made a streak in the water. The horizon formed land. Hills. Mountains. She saw the stretch of green. She saw the snowy tops.

“Line ‘em up boys.” Junior said, mask hanging to the side, visor up. She was still in the lead, but now they were in line. Dagger 3 directly behind her, and behind Phoenix and Bob, Rooster, then Payback and Fanboy.

She nodded her head, all to herself and for nothing more. “Alrighty then. Let those birds fly Admiral.”

“Birds in the air Dagger 1.”

Well, there was no turning back now. The missiles were on their way and when the runway was blown, it would be hell. Controlled hell because they planned for this, but hell nonetheless.

So she grinned, muscles relaxing through the stress.

“Let’s rock and roll guys and gals. Nothing like a bit of easy going flying to kickstart the day.”

“Easy going,” Phoenix repeated, a chuckle in her tone. “Exactly what I call it. Let’s show the guys who’s boss Junior.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“You show us who’s boss?” Payback laughed. “You may be lead, but we’ll school you Junior.”

“2:30 on the clock Daggers. In 3, 2, 1. Dagger 1 set.”

“Dagger 2 set.”

“Dagger 3 set.”

“Dagger 4 set.”

They were in the danger zone now.

It was exactly how they practiced. Each turn was like her skeleton was being compressed. The air struggled to come in. The sweat drenched her. Her eyes had to scan everything at once but now there were objects actually on the hills for them to locate.

“SAM 1, high up, 3 o’clock.”

“SAM 2, left side, 11 o’clock.”

Controls alerted them of 2 bogeys in the distance. Flying high, standard patrol. They weren’t seen yet.

“Rooster, talk to me.”

His response was slow. The dumbass was still thinking.

She switched sides, flipping so all her weight pressed down on the left side.

“They haven’t seen us yet. Proceed as planned.”

“Smart boy. There’s hope for you yet.”

“Rooster, we’re twenty seconds behind schedule. Speed it up a bit,” Payback said, and Junior stood corrected.

The idiot was going slow. She tried to give him a boost of confidence the only way she knew how.

“Phoenix, increase speed.”

“We’re on your tail Junior, don’t worry about us.”

She pushed forward, weaving through the hills, spotting all the SAMS that would be on their asses in less than three minutes. A party for later. A bridge popped up, and she flipped again, blowing through it and letting out a shaky laugh as she passed.

“Mind your head Phoenix.”

“Dagger 2, increase speed. You are behind schedule.”

“Dagger 1, the runway is gone. Bogeys are veering away.”

They were in the final stretch. Six more seconds and they’d be climbing the mountain.

“Dagger 2, increase speed.” Junior ordered, the mountain growing larger and larger the closer they neared.

No response.

Her anger flashed. She snapped, “Rooster, get your head out of your ass and be a pilot your dad would be proud of for once.”

And she began the ascent.

Her muscles bulged. She kept breathing, forceful exhales and tingling inhales. Black spots covered her peripheries. Snow blew behind her but she trusted Phoenix to stay on course. She trusted no one more than Phoenix to be flying directly behind her.

“Woah Rooster! Not that quick buddy!” Payback exclaimed, and as she inverted, blood rushing to her head, there was a grin on her face.

She’d be damned. Her dad was right.

“Bob, where’s my laser?”

“Working on it Junior, one more second. . .Got it!”

The alarm rang in her ears. She had a locked target. “Missiles away,” she addressed, and let them fly.

Then she pulled back, breaking the sharp descent for a mind melting ascent. She kept her head forward, forcing her eyes open, forcing breaths inside her because if she held her breath now, she’d pass out for sure and she was coming home. There’d be no one stopping her from coming home.

“We have a hit!” Bob exclaimed, and another breathy chuckle escaped her, cheeks red, energy draining.

“Miracle one’s done boys,” she addressed to Daggers 2 and 4. “Finish her up.”

“On it Dagger 1,” Rooster answered. “Heading down now.”

She broke through the mountain’s protection. The SAMS locked on her. A second later, the SAMS spotted Dagger 3.

“Smoke in the air!”

“Fanboy, where’s my laser?!”

“Somethings wrong Rooster, I need another second!”

“No good, firing blind.”

“Wait Rooster – “

“Phoenix, on your 6!”

“Missiles away.”

She released her flares, turning back around to keep an eye on Dagger 3. She wanted to look down in the mountain but that would pull her away from the more important issue at hand; the smoke in the air.

“We have a hit! Miracle number 2 is a success!”

She couldn’t help the cheer that escaped her. “Atta boy Rooster! You sure know how to prove a girl wrong.”

“You doubt me Junior?”

She let out a long, truthful laugh. “Immensely. I doubted you up to this very point.”

“Can we change your call sign to Richard?”

“We get out of here alive, I’ll consider it. Dagger 3, deploy flares.”

Then they joined the dog fight, bursting from the mountains cover. They shot into the cloudy sky, her eyes tracking them for a split second just to count that there were two planes, and then she was back on surveillance.

“Flares deployed.”

And then it was a controlled mess.

Six voices talking all at once and every voice being heard. Flashes of red and balls of fire lighting up the sky. They flew away from mountain, making their way back home, and her nerves were oozing away. It didn’t matter where she was, she knew her back was had in the same way they knew she had their backs.

She smiled despite being wrong. Her dad said he was a great pilot, and she should’ve trusted him. Rooster was finally shinning, covering his friends asses and flying without thought.

Until it landed him as a target.

“Smoke in the air Dagger 2,” Fanboy called.

“Got it.”

She caught him maneuvering, but he wasn’t deploying flares. He wasn’t getting behind it either for a missile.

“Dagger 2, deploy flares,” she ordered, wanting to look behind her because he was on her tail now, but that would land her straight into a mountain.

“I’m out!”

The alarm was in her ears. In her head like she was there. Like she was the target.

There was no thinking, just like her dad always said when he told his stories. It was action. It was second nature. When you’re up there, you think and you die. You have to do. To trust your body to know the right course of action.

And Junior didn’t have a single doubt when she pulled the same maneuver her dad had done in dog fighting to ‘kill’ Rooster. It was ironic. The same maneuver that had killed him was now the one that was going to save him.

“Well shit.”

The nose of the jet tipped up, she went perpendicular to the ground, and then Rooster was passing beneath her.

“Junior no!”

Her eyes were to the sky, her heart hammering in her chest, and she deployed her flares.

It was a nice view.

The missile was caught in her flares, but so was her jet. As her engines blew up, and as she ejected, she flew into the sky, free from the protection of her jet.

The cold air hit. It was a whirlwind. The snow covered ground came quick. She was already low to the ground from the ceiling they were flying beneath, and that put her at a disadvantage.

When she landed, it was hard, and the black spots in her peripheries won.

For like, ten seconds until she woke up.

The snow was nice on her sweaty skin. Her movements were slow. She unlocked her helmet and shoved it off her head, breathing in the brisk air.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

She rolled onto her back.

“Dad’s gonna fucking kill me,” she breathed out, eyes wide. “Oh my God what did I do. Fuck. This is why you think before you do! Oh that is such shit advice. Honestly, this is his fault. His advice, his genetics; I’m here because of him. . .”

That sounded like a helicopter.

Why did that sound like a helicopter.

There was a helicopter twenty feet off the ground, a thousand feet away. As it rounded a patch of evergreens, its nose pointed to her.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. Shit.

She scrambled up, nearly toppled from her parachute. She unclipped her parachute and ran forward, helmet in hand but not on her head because it was going to help her a lot more in her hand, and not on her head.

She threw herself (not at a man, surprisingly) behind a fallen tree as the gunfire rained down. It blew off chunks of the wood then stopped, and she knew it was coming around.

Because lookie there. It had come around.

She breathed hard, staring at it. Waiting for the gunfire to start up again.

It didn’t.

A missile blew it up instead, and she watched as a familiar F-18 circled in the sky. SAMS locked on it. Smoke rose in the air. The dumbass still didn’t have any flares and it hit. Who could have seen that coming. Certainly not the idiot in the pilot’s seat.

“FUCK-ING IDIOT,” she screamed, spotting his chute as he ejected from the scraped jet.

She took off running, hating the stupid snow beneath her, hating the world, hating her stupid father and his stupid advice of ‘don’t think’. This is what happened when you don’t think!

She was another example of what happens when people don’t think!

Now was not the time for self-deprecating humor. Even if it was hilarious.

She ran through the forest, wishing he had crash landed a shorter distance away because as she was closing in on him, her energy to break her helmet over his head had depleted.

“ARE YOU OKAY?” See? She showed restraint. She didn’t call him dumbass.

“FINE, ARE YOU?”

“OH FUCKING DANDY.”

When she came up to him, she shoved him. She couldn’t help herself there. He deserved to land in the snow.

“What the hell!”

“Are you stupid?! What the hell are you doing here?!”

“I saved your ass!”

“And now we’re both fucked instead of just one of us! Didn’t think that through, did you!”

“Your dad told me not to think!”

Her dad caused every problem in her life. She was not exaggerating.

Her hands went in her hair, she puffed out, looking around. She pulled at her sweaty locks, at a loss for words.

“Well,” she began. “Fuck.”

“Any smart plan mission leader?”

“Of course I have a plan,” she snapped. “It’s just about as smart as you coming down here.”

And he agreed with her when they were laying in the snow, staring down at the blown up runway.

“The F-14,” she said, the jet covered in shadows from the untouched hanger. Smoke billowed around it, but she was free of damage, not important enough to land a hit. Men ran around the rubble, filled with purpose and working as a well-oiled machine. “I’ve never flown one before but my dad has. I figure since I’m like, 94% him anyway, it’ll come pretty easy.”

“That’s not how that works.”

She pat Rooster on the arm. “I fly planes. I don’t make Punnett squares. Let’s get going.”

She was heading down the hill before he even got up. He called her name, protesting the plan, but he didn’t have any other options, so he followed. They walked through a broken gait.

“There’re guys over there,” Rooster said.

She smiled confidently, like she belonged.

“There’re guys over there too,” Rooster continued.

“Let’s start running.”

“Yup.”

They started running, making their way to the abandoned jet with surprising ease. Then it was like her dad was with her, coaching her on what to do. She spoke to Rooster in the same way, giving him simple orders that he could follow. She climbed up the ladder, sitting in the cold seat that hadn’t been touched in months.

Good news! The engines started.

Rooster followed his tasks to perfection, joining her in the jet before she taxied out, humming to calm her nerves. She was nodding her head back and forth, a nervous movement because they were quite literally sitting ducks right now.

There was no runway. They had blown that shit to pieces.

It’s funny how things always came back to bite her in the ass.

Her hands were moving. She was trying not to think right now, like a damn hypocrite, because she was already humming to calm herself down and she was running out of ways to calm herself down!

“Junior, the wings are coming out.”

She nodded, lips popping. “The jets broken.”

“Why are the wings coming out? This isn’t a runway; this is a taxiway.”

“It’s no wonder you made it into Top Gun. That’s some expert observation right there.”

She opened a yellow and black cover. She pushed the hidden lever all the way forward.

“Don’t worry Rooster, getting home won’t be the problem.” It would most certainly be a colossal fucking problem. “My dad’ll be the bigger issue.”

And they were moving.

Gaining speed.

There was a stone archway at the end of the taxiway. She did not like how close it was getting.

She was pulling up. She was squinting, face pinching as she prepared to hit –

They were free!

They had lost their front wheel.

They were free!

“Did you ever doubt me Rooster?” She laughed, feeling like death.

“Immensely,” there was a grin on his face, she heard it. “I doubted you to this very point.”

“Get us hooked up to radio, kay? I don’t want my dad thinking I’m dead for too long; he does irrational things when he’s emotional.”

“Roger that.”

The flight was smooth for all of twenty seconds. Enemy aircraft rose to her right. A partner rose right behind it.

Rooster pointed it out, and Junior nodded, going through what she thought her dad would do.

“Masks on Rooster, visors down.” Her voice altered beneath the mask. “We’d be dead if they knew who we were.”

She waved to the person beside them.

He did a hand signal.

“What does that mean?” Rooster asked.

“Absolutely no clue.”

She knocked on her helmet, giving a thumbs down.

The man did a second signal.

“What about that?”

“Yeah, still no.”

“You know what we have to do Junior.”

“That’s not a good idea Junior.”

“It’s what Mav would do.”

“I’m not half the pilot Maverick is,” she tried another hand signal to keep stalling. “He might be able to pull off a dogfight, but I can’t.”

“You’re not half the pilot Maverick is. You’re 94% the pilot.”

A slow laugh. “That’s not how that works.”

“C’mon Junior. You really want Hangman to be top of the class again?”

Somehow he knew exactly what to say to her. A steely calm washed over her, jitteriness dissipated. Her muscles were still. Her brows set.

She turned away from the pilot beside her. The plane diagonal to them shifted behind them. They knew something was wrong.

It was now or never, and she chose now.

She flipped them, hanging over the man to their right. She slowed down and flipped again, on his ass. She fired, bullets rattling to the side, and it was a solid hit. The jet’s engines blew and they slid into a snow covered hill as Junior pulled away, shooting forward.

“Woo! There we go Junior, show me some dogfighting.”

“Get us on that radio Rooster.”

“There are 300 switches back here, I’ll need a minute.”

The jet was on her ass. It locked on them. The sound blared in her ears. She dipped to the side, Rooster called smoke in the air, and the missiles caught on one of the SAMS as she passed narrowly overhead. Then it was a dip to the left, and she dove into the weaving hills. The low height would confuse their tracking systems and hopefully get them a minute of time.

Then they started shooting regular bullets at them, not missiles.

Better. Still shit.

She pushed for more speed. Rooster called a hit.

More speed. They wove seamlessly just like when they had first entered the valley. They passed over a river. They brushed a waterfall.

Rooster called another hit.

The nose tilted up, she pulled back, and her abs had never been tighter. She shoved down, behind the jet, and fired. Fired until she saw that burst of red. She stopped, hands on the yoke as they broke free from the valley.

They passed over water, seemingly in the clear for now.

“That’s a hit! That’s some damn good dogfighting Junior! I’d even go as far as saying 97% like Maverick.”

“Ha. Ha. How’s that radio coming along?”

“I think I’ll just have to sing to compensate.”

“Please tell me you know a song other than Great Balls of Fire.”

“That’s a classic and I won’t hear otherwise.”

“Do you know how many times I heard that song growing up? I can sing it backwards. Sing something else.”

“Uh. . .well I got one.”

“Let’s hear it Rooster.”

“Where can you find pleasure, search the world for treasure, learn science technology?”

She laughed, loud, singular. “Oh Jesus. You found a song worse than Great Balls of Fire. Congratulations.”

“Where can you begin to make your dreams all come true, on the land or on the sea?”

She joined in with him, an unbreakable smile on her face. “Where can you learn to fly.

play in sports and skin dive, study oceanography? Sign up for the big band or sit in the grandstand, when your team and others meet?”

Their alarm was in their ears. Their singing stopped. Rooster searched for the jet that had locked on them, and Junior did to, heartrate spiking in surprise.

The radar popped up, and that was when she saw it.

“They’ve gotta be behind us.”

She shook her head. “They’re on our nose.”

And coming in hot.

She fired at them. There was no response. She was out of bullets. She deployed her last missile. She flipped to the side, blowing through the explosion of her last missile. She narrowly missed a head on collision with the attacker.

“I’m out of flares and missiles Rooster.”

She pushed the jet as fast as she could go, but against the fully equipped newer jet; the pilot didn’t matter. The jet was on her ass again.

It fired. No amount of maneuvering, swerving, flipping was going to get them out of it.

Rooster called another hit.

There was no other option.

“When I give the go,” her voice was sturdy, determined. “Reach above your head and pull the eject. Above your head, see it?”

“Junior, there’s gotta be –“

“When I give the go,” she ordered.

Another hit. They couldn’t handle another one.

She started to climb. The sun greeted them, bright, yellow, warmth miles away.

A nice view, just like the last time. Maybe she’d get a second chance again. She didn’t want to hope on that too much. Her heart thundered, her stomach in knots, and the anticipation was perhaps the worst part of it. Knowing the inevitable and having no more options but acceptance.

The alarm sounded.

“Eject!” She ordered.

The canopy didn’t pop off. The pilot behind her wasn’t ejecting.

“Eject!” She snapped.

“It’s not going!”

She had lied, then. Getting home was going to be a problem, and not facing her dad afterwards. There was going to be no afterwards.

They continued their climb, her head hanging in failure.

The alarm shut off, an explosion sounding from behind her.

Her head snapped up, looking around her, and another jet rose beside them.

“Good afternoon everyone, this is your savior speaking.” That cocky mother. . . “It’s a beautiful day with a high of 74 and a mild breeze. There’s a high chance for praise and admiration later today but besides that, it should be a smooth landing.”

Hangman.

“Guess you really did have my ass, huh Hangman?” She asked, removing them from the steep climb.

“I told you I’d be watching it Junior. Someone’s gotta take care of it.”

“You look good Hangman,” Rooster greeted, no blatant resentment in his tone.

“I am good Rooster,” he agreed, nodding. “I’m very good.”

“We’ll see about that,” Junior challenged, the underlying meaning heavy in her voice, jet levelling out a two hundred feet above the water.

Hangman whistled. “Careful there Junior. Let’s get you back to the carrier before you make any more challenges.”

His jet was faster, there was no questions about it. He let her take the lead, keeping close on her tail.

“I know my ass is nice but if you keep riding it I’ll charge you.”

Hangman laughed, sweeping beside them. “F-14 huh? Didn’t that runway get blown up?”

“We made do with the taxiway.”

“You’re missing your front landing gear.”

“It’s just a scratch.”

“Let’s see how you do with landing her,” Hangman finished off the conversation, and headed onward.

He reached the carrier before she did. He was already landed by the time she was shooting overhead, sending out a few orders for the barricade to come up. It was as she was finishing her turn, lining up with the landing strip, that they had left engine failure.

“Don’t tell me we have engine failure.”

“Alright,” she agreed. “I won’t tell you. . .in the navy,” she sang lightly. “Yes you can sail the seven seas. In the navy, yes you can put your mind at ease.”

He joined in, giving in to her attempts. “If you like adventure, don’t you wait to enter, the recruiting office fast. Don’t you hesitate, there is no need to wait, they’re signing up new seamen fast.”

They crash landed. The barricade caught them. Their nose was to the ground. The jolt sent a shock right up her spine and would definitely leave a bruise on her ass. As they skidded to a stop, she maintained a constant wince, waiting for something to blow up and kill them.

For a second, silence.

They were alive!

She sat back, hands leaving the yoke for the first time.

She exhaled; eyes wide. She pulled the mask from her face, breathing in the air stuck in the canopy.

“I honest to God cannot believe that worked!”

“Don’t tell me, you doubted your dad’s plan too?”

“I doubted so much shit,” she laughed, opening the canopy, standing up. “Jesus, that fucking worked.”

It was a miracle.

Standing up, she turned back to him, and gave him a hard high five. Then the screaming crowd reached them. She got down, in the mix and momentarily forgetting that her dad would be arriving to beat her ass with the finest of wooden spoons.

Phoenix threw her into a hug. Her other Daggers clapped her on the back. Her ‘savior’ put an arm around her, tilting his head down to speak to her.

“Exceptional flying, second best.”

“Why thank you, savior. I thought it was moderately decent myself.”

“One day, you may even be okay at it.”

She grinned up at him, loving that stupid smirk on his face.

And then her dad was in front of her, pulling her into a choking hug.

It surprised her. He had done a lot of surprising things lately, but the hug surprised her most of all. It wasn’t that they didn’t hug, but there was a considerable lack of yelling at her prior that caught her off guard.

And then she was held at arms length, his eyes on her, searching for any damage.

“Are you okay?” He asked, annunciating, his panic showing in ways she had never seen before.

“I’m fine dad.”

“Can you even begin to fathom how much trouble you’re in right now?” He asked, annunciating, even slower this time.

“I’d like you to reconsider because really, I just did what you taught.”

“Wrong answer.”

“You chose me to be mission leader, the decisions I made were based on what I thought the best pilot I know would do. I regret none of my actions.” She regretted so many.

“You’re grounded.”

There it was. She tried for distraction, voice raising, bringing attention to her. “Roosters hurt!” She grabbed her dad’s shoulders, steering him towards Rooster, “You should go check on him. He pulled his pinky finger being a halfway decent pilot. He said something about unbearable pain.”

“You’re grounded Junior!” He called, disappearing in the mess of people.

She turned back to Hangman. He put his arm around her shoulders again.

“Were you singing In The Navy as you landed?” Hangman asked.

She blinked at him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

~

The shower she took was the best thing since sliced bread. They were back home, had been back for an hour or so. Her dad drove her home, they had had a nice long chat about ‘don’t do as I do, or as I say, do something a smart person would do’. She asked for a rain check on the ice cream. He gave her a look.

“The Hard Deck?”

“Where else?”

“With Hangman?”

“Let me guess. Rooster got the radio up and a few comments were heard?”

“The relief I felt in hearing your voice was quickly skewed by standing in the same room as Admiral Cyclone as your comments came through. Your ass was involved in many of them.”

“What can I say, it has a way of getting involved.”

“And I think I remember some comments about ‘I honest to God cannot believe that worked’. Something about you doubting my plan – “

She was laughing as she shoved his shoulder. “That was interference. Yeah, I think the frequency was hijacked or something.”

“Or something, definitely,” he said with a grin.

“You can come with me,” she offered. “Come see Penny.”

“I. . .I’m actually meeting her. We’re going on a sailing trip.”

“Were you ever planning to take me for ice cream?” She wondered.

“I was going to ask for a rain check.”

She snorted, walking past him, patting him on the way. “Have fun dad.”

“You too kid. You’ve earned it.”

She shaved. She moisturized. She put on her cute underwear. Her clothing choice for the night was a plain v neck tucked into shorts. She wasn’t about to put on a dress or shove her legs into jeans. Junior was taking the bet that she wouldn’t be wearing the clothes for long anyway. She did put on her tallest wedges however. It wouldn’t make her as tall as Hangman but hopefully now she’d at least be shoulder level.

Phoenix picked her up, grinning at her with a sparkle in her eyes.

“You’re wearing a push up bra,” she noted. “You’re not sagging like a 70-year-old anymore.”

“My girls don’t sag. You wouldn’t understand because you’ll forever be size mosquito bite.”

They looked at each other. They laughed freely as Phoenix pulled away from the house, beginning the journey to the Hard Deck.

“So what is this with Bagman? When the hell did that happen?”

“I could ask you the same thing about Rooster.”

“Me and Rooster? It’s simple. Friends with benefits. Now you and Bagman. Thought you wanted to give him an ego check, not an ego boost.”

“I owe him for saving my life Phoenix,” she took on a faux sympathetic tone. “I’d be dead if he hadn’t swooped in and saved me. It was so heroic how he shot down that plane, and then immediately asked for praise and recognition.”

They laughed again, turning the music up and singing without restraint as they drove on.

“Mommy’s alright, Daddy’s alright, they just seem a little weird. Surrender, surrender, but don’t give yourself away.”

The wind in her braided hair. The smell of salt water in her nose. The warm golden sun with the light humidity. They neared the Hard Deck, noting how it was already busy with their friends and the other regulars.

The music picked up, the refrain circling again, their voices carrying louder. The music changed as they left Phoenix’s car, entering The Hard Deck where the bar was scattered, the dart board was taken, the booths were filled, and the pool table was crowded.

Macho Man was playing. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Hangman!” She called. “You hijack the music already?”

He turned away from Coyote, smirk in place. “Junior, finally made it in. Thought you got lost again. Would’ve been a shame if I had to come and rescue you twice in one day. Maybe we should change your callsign to Damsel.”

“Rooster’s already petitioned to change it to Richard and I’m more partial to that.”

“Fitting, isn’t it?” Rooster asked, turning away from the dart board.

“I like to think of myself as a motivational speaker,” Junior corrected. “I got your ass in shape, didn’t I?”

“And we all heard it,” Hangman said. “Just like we heard you and Phoenix talking about ‘showing the guys who’s boss’ before you got your ass blown up.”

It was confirmed; Hangman was an ass guy.

“Well I needed an excuse for you to come rescue me sweety.” She came up beside him, smiling at him sweetly, and taking his pool stick. “I took pity on you. You looked so sad getting left behind.”

She was just above shoulder level. The shoes had given her some much needed height.

His smirk never died. “1 round. Set em up, I’ll get you a drink.”

“Such a gentleman.”

He walked behind her, discretely grabbing her ass and proving her previous statement wrong. It was discrete because as soon as they started talking, everyone had distinctly turned away.

She looked at them after he had gone to the bar. “I have no intention of jumping him on the pool table, people. You’re all ridiculous.”

“You’re the one screwing him with your eyes,” Phoenix responded, leaning against Rooster.

“I’m wearing sunglasses.”

“They’re not enough.”

They were all ridiculous.

She set the pool balls up. He returned with a glass for her, and they clinked together before the first shot.

It was a mess from there.

The songs, the liquor, the sly touches in order to ‘get around’ the other person, because there clearly wasn’t enough space. When she bent, her shirt hung low, his eyes always on her. Her legs looked exceptionally long when she straightened, muscles tight in the best way.

He distracted her too. The way his shirt was pulled over his shoulders. Tucked in at the waist for that clear outline of his figure. His gaze burning a hole straight to her core.

It became a chore to keep her word and not jump him on the pool table.

He called his final shot, and she didn’t look away from him as he landed it, the eight ball zipping into the pocket. He straightened, head rolling in a fluid motion to stare down at her.

“I just can’t seem to lose.”

“Confident you’ll score tonight?”

“I like my chances.”

“It’s a shame. I’m getting kinda tired and my ride’s over there playing darts.”

“Unfortunate. You find yourself stranded a lot, don’t you Junior?”

“What can I say, I like being saved by big, strong, handsome men.”

“Now you’re just sweet talking.”

“Oh no,” she clicked her tongue. “If I was sweet talking, I’d mention how I’ve got the house to myself tonight, Pops is out of town. I’d also mention the bottle I put in my fridge in case I came home with someone. And I even pulled out the matching set.”

“If only you were sweet talking then.”

“If only,” she agreed.

“I’ll close the tab.”

“I’ll find your bike.”

Phoenix raised a fist as she was on her way out. Junior permitted the bump, ignoring the rest of the looks she got. Outside, she knew his bike and leaned against it, stretching her legs out, putting her hand in her pockets and facing the now setting sun.

The rocks beneath his feet slid together with each step, alerting her of his presence. His shadow alerted her he had arrived, and she opened her eyes, grinning up at him.

“I’m surprised you found your way all on your own. I was worried you’d get lost.”

“I just looked for the bike that screamed ‘I belong to a cocky asshole’ and ended up here.”

He whistled. “Such strong language for the guy that saved your ass.”

“Forgive me?”

“Persuade me.”

“The quicker you get me home, the quicker you get me out of these clothes.”

“Persuaded.”

He got on his bike. She got on behind him, scooting closer than necessary. Her front completely pressed against his back. Her arms tight around his torso.

“Can’t wait till we get home?” That infuriating smirk was back up.

“Haven’t I waited long enough?” Her hand rubbed his torso. She could feel him clench, she could feel him chuckle when she pressed her chest against him again. “Or are you not good enough to drive with a slight distraction?”

“Back at it with those challenges Junior. Wasn’t losing pool bad enough?”

“My head wasn’t really in the game. There was this distracting man on the other side of the table that kept stealing my thoughts.”

“Thoughts, plural? Didn’t think you had it in you.”

She pressed her hand against his pants. That shut him up.

Her head came up beside his, she looked at him. “We can do this with me behind you instead, if you’d like.”

“Setting course for your house.”

The tires rolled and they were off.

Her hands never did stay in place. They breezed over hard muscle. They pressed against his pants.

Her lips pressed against his neck. Her teeth bit into his shoulder.

She whispered ideas that could quickly become reality into his ear.

They pulled into her driveway. He helped her off, holding her hand as she swung her leg off the bike. She walked ahead to the front door, key out, stride long and slow as he turned off the engine, following after her.

Junior never made it to the kitchen. Hands were on her hips, a body coming to press behind her.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t love the feeling of him behind her. Large. Warm. Sturdy.

His head dipped low, lips against her ear. “Haven’t I waited long enough?”

It wasn’t the worst thing in the world for her words to be used against her.

His hands travelled up from her hips, holding her by the waist. In its wake, her nerves sizzled, hairs raising on her exposed arms and legs. She leaned against him, ass pressing back into him. Getting a glimpse of what was to come.

“I’d be a bad host if I didn’t offer a drink.”

“I’m sure I can find something else to drink.”

She tilted her head up and back and his lips found hers. Simple at first. Then she was turning. His tongue was in her mouth, he was holding her closer, it wasn’t close enough. Her hands were on his collar, pulling him down. One leg hooked around his hip; he got the idea and planted his hands firm on her ass, giving her a boost up.

There was a buzz in her head and electricity all over her body. Not even a third of the credit deserved to go to the alcohol.

“Hallway,” she said, pulling away, lips going to his neck. Teeth scraping rough skin. “First door, right side.”

He was moving, hands squeezing her ass tighter when she bit down on his neck.

“Never took you for a biter.”

Her door was opened.

“Gotta leave my mark so the girl you have lined up tomorrow knows I had you first.”

He ‘tsked’ her, kicking her door closed. “Who do you take me for?”

“6’3 hot guy with, hopefully, a big dick.”

He slapped her ass, knee pressing down against her bed as he leaned them over it. Her body was entirely held up by him until he put her on the mattress, his weight all on her. His lips were on her neck, kissing in the same way she had done to him, but sucking instead of biting. “Lucky you,” he said between kisses, “you get to find out.”

“Will I?” She questioned in return. “It’s taking an awful long time to get there.”

“Gotta take my time. Don’t know how often I’ll get this chance. The daughter of Maverick underneath me.”

Her fingers wove into his hair, pulling his head up from her chest. “My dad knows I’ve got my eyes set on you. You’re stuck with me now.”

He plucked away her sunglasses, setting them on her bedside table. The last bit of sunlight hit the right side of his face, showcasing his sparkling blues.

“Is that a challenge, Junior?”

“If you can handle it.” She looked down towards her hips, conveniently covered by his own. “And right now, she’s drying up. Quick, show me a picture of Rooster so I can get ready again.”

“Is that how it is Junior?”

“Well, he was the one to heroically save me from becoming swiss cheese.”

“He was the reason you almost became swiss cheese. I, on the other hand, saved you without ever having put you in danger in the first place.” His hips dug into hers, excitement searing. “Cause I’m just. That. Good.” Each word getting softer until it was a whisper, his ego drenching each syllable.

They kissed again, her legs squeezing him tight, wishing fewer clothes separated them. His hands moved from her hips to pull off her shirt, lips removed from her again to go lower. On her chest. Nipping soft skin.

Her nails scratched his scalp.

He sucked on her stomach.

Her fingers pulled sandy hair.

He reached her shorts, unbuttoning them, lips ghosting the exposed skin. Her hips raised, her shorts coming down, and he threw them off into the distance of her room.

Blue locked on her again. “They are matching.”

“And they’re my cutest set, so be gentle with them.” It was important when engaging in acts such as this to lay down the law. Cute underwear did not deserve to be caught in crossfire.

“Of course,” he nodded. “Of course.”

His fingers slipped under the sides, pulling them down. They were thrown to the side just like her shorts.

It momentarily seemed unfair that she was in such a state of undressed when he hadn’t conceded any clothing. When his mouth was on her, the thought left her head. She could wait to strip him.

His arms were underneath her raised thighs, hands pressing against her hips to keep her in place. It was natural to want to move but she couldn’t do that, he made sure of it. Her stomach stayed taut, a breath only ever half building up before it stopped.

“Finally putting that mouth of yours to good work,” she exhaled, shaky, airy. “I knew it’d be as good at this as it was with a retort.”

“I like to think they’re fairly evenly matched,” that smirk was up again. It aided in the process of getting her worked up, as if he needed any help. “But please, go on about how you knew I’d be good at this.”

Phoenix would hate her for boosting his ego but he was making her feel too good to not give a compliment.

He sucked; the breath left her lungs.

“There’s too types of cocky; the emotionally damaged cocky, and the justified cocky. And I’ve seen you in action.”

She was feeling him in action too and it did not disappoint.

Her eyes fluttered shut, forehead knitting, a flicker in her abdomen.

“There’s nothing hotter than a guy taking charge who knows what he’s doing.”

It built, and she didn’t know how he knew, but he did, because he did everything to the extremes as the orgasm shot up her nervous system, an elated rush that left her feeling unusually easy going. Her clit became too sensitive and he made no sign of wanting to stop attacking it, so she pulled at his hair, leading him back up.

She kissed him hard, tongue in his mouth this time and one leg wrapping around his waist in preparation. One arm propped him up, the other pressed her waist against his. Her head buzzed, her skin crawling, and it was a swift maneuver that surprised her in its success.

One fluid motion; she was on top.

She leaned back, grinning down at him, hands pressing against his torso. His hands rested on her bare hips, thumbs moving back and forth over the exposed, smooth skin. His callouses were a noticeable contrast, one she appreciated.

“Too slow.”

“Do you really think you could flip me without me wanting to be flipped sweetheart? I thought I already told you, I like a good view.” His gaze was every definition of sinful.

“My view’s obstructed.”

“Then do something about it.”

She rolled her eyes, pulling at his button downed shirt. It wrinkled, out of his pants now, and she took her time unbuttoning it. She scooted back the more buttons became undone, coming down and pressing soft kisses against his abs. The buttons were free and he lifted up partially to help remove the clothing. Now it was her turn to throw it to the side.

Her hands roamed free. She bit where she pleased, licking with full eye contact up his sternum until she was at his neck again. She bit there too, smiling when her bra loosened.

She leaned back, clasp on her back undone, brow raised.

Hangman was the picture of innocence. “Faulty clasp.”

“I’m sure.” She threw her bra away, eyes rolling at his cocky grin. “But I’m the impatient one,” she nodded, scooting down and away from his greedy hands. She undid his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped the slacks, and pulled down, throwing them to the side and fitting herself between strong legs.

Naturally she had been right about her earlier guess. She wasn’t about to verbalize that a second time.

She grabbed him and his length disappeared in her mouth. Her tongue pressed against him, her saliva coated him. She downed as much as she could and pushed on, eyes shut until he was all the way gone. She popped off, hands pumping him, and then down again. Her cheeks hollowed, she sucked, her teeth grazed the smallest amount.

Junior repeated. She twisted with her hands and replaced it with her mouth. She applied more pressure until her jaw hurt again, and she returned to her hands. One hand slipped lower. Her eyes lit up when he sucked in a breath, her hand gripping his balls.

She had the most wicked grin she had ever worn before. She couldn’t help herself. “Goodness gracious great balls of fire.”

He laughed, loud, clear, the sound the best thing she had ever heard before. She laughed herself, watching his head tilt back into her pillows, hands on his face. His fingers dug into his hair, the muscles on his arms bulging as he smiled at her.

“Rooster is exactly the man I want to think about as you’ve got my dick in your hands.”

“Great. You’re welcome.” She winked and went down again.

It was a combination of her hands on his balls and her hallowed cheeks that finished him off. He sputtered in her mouth, her tongue pressing against him with her swallows. She righted herself, finally letting him go and wiping her wet lips.

She swung her leg off him, standing and stretching her back muscles. There was a low whistle behind her.

“Don’t tell me, you’re done after 1 round?” He asked. “This is why you’re second best Junior.”

She turned back to him, the sight of him laying on his side, watching her, almost making her return to bed.

“I was being polite and giving you time to get hard again. While I get drinks, finish up your refractory period, kay sweetheart?”

“Does it look like I’m going through that?”

She had to break away to check. It was annoying that he was right. She turned to hide her face, walking to the door anyway. “I put the bottle in the fridge for a reason, I’m getting the damn drinks.”

His laugh was her exit music.

She pulled the bottle from the fridge, the cold hitting her and sending a chill across her. She brought out two glasses and opened the bottle there, pouring in a hefty serving. Her goal wasn’t to get so plastered she didn’t care who she was screwing, rather to maintain that buzz that added to the experience.

The bottle returned to the fridge and she returned to the bedroom. He had scoot over for her and she passed him his glass, sitting down beside him before partially laying down on her side, propped up by one arm. He was on his back, one arm behind his head, the other holding his glass. It was the arm closest to her that moved from behind his head to pull her closer.

“Oh, sorry,” she dragged out the word, moving to lay against him. “Was I not close enough?”

“Am I inside you? Then no.”

Goddamnit.

“Do I not get a drink break?”

“It’s no surprise you can’t multitask. Women do have trouble with that sort of thing.”

She snorted, almost spilling her drink. She’d hit him if she didn’t know he was saying that just to get a rise from her.

“Audacious coming from the man making me do all the work.” She sat forward, a warm, calloused hand leaving her shoulder. She swung her leg around again, only this time, she straddled his hips instead of sitting between them. She took a sip of her drink, gazes locked as she sat down, rubbing against him.

“I’m giving you your moment to shine sweetheart. I have every intention,” he was smirking, “of blowing your back out later on.”

She clenched at the very idea.

His smirk deepened. “See, it’s what gentlemen do. They give their girl a moment to shine, and you are shining right now.”

It was a combination of the compliment, and the ‘their girl’. The things those words did to her, put in her head; unspeakable. She sipped again, the cool liquid burning, adding to her buzz.

She raised up, on fire from his gaze, and guided him to her entrance. When she sunk down, one of his hands came to her hip. She rolled, circled, testing the waters.

There’d be no saying she wasn’t ready for him. He had slid right in. He filled her up like a lake filled a cup.

“God you feel good,” he whispered, thrusting up, her gasp sinful. If the grip on her hip didn’t leave bruises, then it wasn’t tight enough.

She rolled, head falling back, searing the experience into her head right now. She lifted up and fell down and that hand finally tightened, dick hitting a spot deep inside her. She repeated the move, lifting and falling, her drink swaying but not spilling.

“Watch it fucking disappear. Just like that mouth of yours did.”

His hand left her hip for a second. In that second, it did one thing; slapped her ass so hard the sound filled her room. A stinging pain was left behind that went straight to her throbbing core and she slammed harder, adding a roll of her hips. She cursed; one hand pressed against his abs to stabilize her.

“Gonna fuck you so hard you can’t get up to get another drink.” Another slap. If he ever said he wasn’t an ass man, he’d be a filthy liar.

“Is that a challenge Jake?” She gasped out; voice higher than normal.

“No,” he answered, slamming into her again, apparently a power bottom instead of a sedentary one. “That’s a promise.”

She could see his hits against her damn stomach. The fact that she didn’t cum right there was a surprise, knowing it was building and knowing she couldn’t hold on much longer. In a bold act, she paused her riding, staying at a high position and knocking back the rest of her drink. Her baby hairs stuck to her head as she reached over him, staring him down, to set her empty glass on the table.

Then she gave her legs the workout of her life. Her chest bounced. Her hips rolled. He shoved into her with all his might and there was no questioning his might now.

Her concentration was on not collapsing. She reached for one of her hands, knowing exactly what she was doing when she grabbed the now glass free hand, and held it exactly where he was hitting her.

“That’s you,” she gasped, knowing his ego was going to inflate in the most preferable way possible.

She was damn right.

He pulled her from him, pushing her to the side roughly. Her face was to the mattress and her ass was to the air. She would’ve flipped, but she knew this was exactly how he wanted her. His hands grabbed her by the hips, pulling her across the mat like she weighed nothing. His thighs pressed against hers and then he was inside her again, ramming her hard enough for the bed to shake.

His hand cracked across her ass again, the other side now. She cursed, the sound hoarse, her cheeks red from the heat. He was keeping his word, her back taking hit after hit and begging for more. Her ass shook from his thrusts and his slaps. He grabbed her several times, a greedy fistful before he slapped down.

“The guy you have lined up tomorrow’s gonna know I had you first,” he said, pulling her hips back with each of his thrusts. “It doesn’t matter what he does; you won’t be able to finish until it’s me buried inside you again.”

“I’m sure Rooster could manage 1 orgasm – fuck!”

He was railing her into the mattress, his hips brutal against her ass. He was right, she knew it then; she wouldn’t be able to get up for another drink. Her thighs were quivering, she was clenching around him. Her abs had been tight ever since they began and she had forgotten what it was like to have a full breath inside her.

He slapped her across the ass, a broken moan leaving her.

Her eyes were shut, sweat sliding up her back because her ass was higher than her head. The pillow against her face was no longer cool and refreshing and despite showering earlier, she foretold another shower in her future.

“I’m getting there,” she whined, the pitch up several notches and desperate. The pleasure was white fireworks inside her, bursting throughout her before the real deal even came, and then it came.

The sound that came from her was embarrassing. It was loud, hoarse, high. Her fists were tight in the sheets and his hands were even tighter on her hips. He rammed into her, pace never changing, until he was coming undone to.

His breathing was loud and ragged when he was pulling out of her. He gave her ass one last slap, significantly weaker than all the others, before he collapsed to her side. He made his way onto his back, hair filled with sweat and maintaining that fluffy, fucked look. His cheeks were flushed, strong chest rising with each inhale.

She slid down, weak below her waist as she turned onto her back. She was covered in sweat, her skin was blotchy from the heat, and her hairs were raised.

“You got plans tomorrow?” He asked, breathless.

“No.”

“You got plans tomorrow.”

She grinned. “What about that other girl you have lined up for tomorrow?”

“I think she’s gonna need time to recover after I finish with her.”

His words weren’t subtle.

He wasn’t done.

She let out a laugh, hand pushing her hairs out of her face. “Shit, how many more do you have in you?”

“How long do we have this house to ourselves?”

And she laughed again, wondering if she was going to get any sleep tonight.

[childe-the-harbinger]

Genshin Characters As Mitski Songs (+explanation !)

╰┈➤Angst

╰┈➤Heizou , Kazuha , Yelan , Jean, Traveler , Diluc , Venti , Hu Tao

╰┈➤Anorexia mentions in Kazuha's, Story spoilers, Angst , Death mentions in Jean's , Venti's Heizou's , And Hu Tao's, Suicide in Venti's

masterlist

For Heizou I was really stuck between Once More To See You and Humpty, but I decided on Once More To See You, specifically because of his vision story, regarding his friend. Though this song is more on the topic of love, I focused my decision more on the fact of how such bonds between people can end in you being alone, like how Heizou's friend died in his arms one year after they met at the festival.

For the line "In the rear view mirror, I saw the sun setting on your neck" may refer to how he couldn't look directly at or even see his friend the same way after he admitted to committing crimes and lying to Heizou, but Heizou still keeping the "green pebble" from him under his bed, perhaps just as a way to remember him.

For Kazuha, similar to Heizou, I was a bit stuck on his. I kept changing his, but I settled on Square, specifically the solo piano version.

The song is mostly about a decaying relationship. I connected this to Kazuha by thinking of his friend that passed. Since he is dead, his relationship with Kazuha will never change and he will slowly lose the memory of him.

There is hinting of the singer being anorexic in the song lyrics, so that could be connected to Kazuha as him struggling to do even the small things after his friend passed and him trying to rekindle the vision to keep the image of his old friend with him.

Yelan's was fairly simple for me. I chose Pearl Diver for hers, and for just one single reason.

The song is about always wanting more of something. This something for Yelan could very well be information. In the chasm quest, it could be information on her relative. Outside of that, it could very well be information about others, or even herself.

Jean's was slightly done without me thinking, but I do not regret which song I chose for her, which was Old Friend.

If you read Lisa's lore, you'd know she has a curse that shortened her life span. Though the song has no mention of a friend that has passed away, I thought some of the lyrics could maybe apply to her, but it may be a stretch.

For the Traveler's, I had changed last minute. Theirs is Class of 2013 but specifically the audiotree live version. They have no mention in their parents in the storyline but it could just possibly refer to missing family and the nostalgia of being with them when you were younger.

One of the last lines "I'm chasing for the other girls to persue" could refer to them constantly wanting what others have and trying to become better and constantly wanting validation, perhaps.

Diluc's. I chose Dan the Dancer mostly because of one line. "He liked her more than life itself"

There was a slight reference in the Golden Apple Archipelago quest where Xinyan said "The person that lives in that manor (the winery) must love life" and Paimon was just sorta like "Yep.. For sure!" which led me to decide this song.

My decision for Venti's just felt right. Carry me out. The song is literally about carrying out the singers casket, as there's suicidal ideations built into the lyrics, and as we all know, Venti took the form of his friend, who had passed away, which really hurt Venti, but also gave him his seat in Celestia.

Considering how Venti reacted when Signora stole his gnosis, he probably doesn't care as much about things as much as a result of it and he just wants to get rid of that memory of his friend impaled with the arrow.

In Everyone, It mentions how the singer didn't immediately get support for her career, just like Hu Tao and how people don't respect her attitude towards death.

The song also mentions how the singer quickly gained popularity and proved those people wrong. Hopefully that happens for Hu Tao, but as of now, it hasn't.

[fruitcoops]

Have you ever seen where they get kids to ask the players tough questions and there all dress up and have fake beards and stuff. Maybe you could do that with Jules and Katie asking the team all these really hard questions?????

Thank you for giving me an excuse to spend an hour and a half watching adorable kids ask questions and melt the hearts of celebrities. You’re my hero. There are no fake beards here, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Sweater Weather characters belong to the incredible @lumosinlove!

“These chairs are so small,” James said as he scooted closer to the table. He nearly knocked Talker over with his elbow as the four of them squeezed in; the two kids on the other side shared a look.

“Ready, everyone?” Dorcas asked. When she received six thumbs up, she turned to the camera with a cheerful smile. “Hello, Lions fans, and welcome to Lion Pride! We have a couple of very special guests today to do the introductions.”

“Hello! I’m Katie and I’m six!” She held up six fingers and all four hockey players melted a little bit.

“I’m Julian, and I’m ten.” He waved, a little shy.

Dorcas smiled. “And how are you two related to our favorite Lions?”

Katie lit up and pointed behind the camera. “That’s my dad!”

There was a chuckle in the background. “Can you tell them my name, mon chou?”

“Pascal Dumais, but everyone calls you Dumo.” She swung her legs and her tulle skirt fluffed out.

“Remus Lupin is my older brother,” Jules said with a grin. “But Finn thought he was my dad.”

“It was an honest mistake!” Finn protested around a laugh. “Cut me some slack, Little Loops!”

“Do you want to do the intros for the guys, too?” Dorcas asked. Katie tugged on Jules’ sleeve.

“Can I go first?” she whispered. When he nodded, she hopped out of her chair and ran to the other side of the table, tapping each player on the shoulder. “This is Pots, Talker, Harzy, and Sirius.”

“Aw, man, I didn’t get to do any of them,” Jules pouted.

“You can ask the first question,” Dorcas said, hiding her smile behind her clipboard. “A quick reminder for our Lions: if you refuse to answer any of these, it means you hate children. Take it away, Jules!”

“Okay.” He cleared his throat and looked across the table with a solemn expression. “How many sticks have each of you broken?”

“Oh, that’s a tough one,” James mused. “A lot, but not always on purpose.”

“I haven’t broken that many,” Talker said. “I’ve forgotten to return quite a few to the rink after games, though. I think I have about five in my trunk that I keep meaning to put back.”

“Maybe…ten? Fifteen?” Finn rested his chin on his hand. “I should start a tally board.”

“Too many,” Sirius laughed. “I need to be more careful.”

Katie wiggled in her seat as she picked up the question card. “Why do you swear so much?”

Matching expressions of shock painted all four players’ faces. “Have we sworn in front of you?” Finn asked in a small voice.

“Yeah.”

“Mon dieu, I’m the worst person on earth,” Sirius murmured as Talker leaned his forehead on the table.

James opened and closed his mouth a couple times before answering. “Uh. Well. I don’t know, Katie. Instead of answering, I’m going to take this time to personally apologize to you and your dad, who is laughing his a—his rear end off in the back, as well as promising to form better habits.”

“If you could be any superhero, who would it be?” Jules asked, seemingly unfazed by the previous question. Wordlessly, Sirius gestured to his Captain America t-shirt.

“Spiderman,” Finn said without hesitation. “He’s the coolest.”

James unzipped his jacket to reveal a Superman shirt. “We didn’t coordinate this,” he said, tilting his head toward Sirius. “But yeah, Superman’s the best.”

Talker thought for a moment. “I really like Hawkeye. Are we talking Marvel or DC here?”

“Anything.”

“Anything? Hmm. I’m going to go with the Flash, then.”

“Nice.” Jules reached over to give him a high-five.

“I got Jules’ approval, everyone else can go home.”

“What’s your greatest fear?” Katie asked, still swinging her legs.

The table went silent. Sirius turned to Dorcas. “Is this the plan? Get us rolling with fun stuff and then give the hard ones to the five-year-old in a princess dress?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Cool. Well, munchkin, I don’t like bugs and I’m not a huge fan of the dark.”

“Vegetables,” Finn said sagely, which sent both kids into a fit of giggles and made all the adults break into sunny smiles. “God, you guys are cute.”

“Pomeranians freak me out,” Talker answered once they had calmed down a bit. “They have those tiny little eyes and sharp teeth.”

James shrugged. “I’m not a fan of heights.”

“I thought you wanted to be Superman?” Jules frowned. “He flies all the time.”

“I think I’d be less afraid of heights if I knew I could fly.”

“So you’re afraid of falling, not heights.”

James looked to the camera. “And now I’m getting psychoanalyzed by a ten-year-old. Uh, yeah buddy, I guess so.”

“Hmm.” Jules looked back to the question card. “Who would win in a fight, you or our moms?”

“Your moms,” Talker said immediately as the others nodded. “No contest.”

“How would we even get in that situation?” Sirius asked. “What the did we do to make the nicest women in the world that mad?”

“Stole brownies,” Katie said with great gravity for one so young. “Mom says you four are the worst about it.”

“Mom wouldn’t even have to fight you.” Jules cocked his head to the side. “I feel like she could just give you a disappointed look and that would be enough. Katie, your turn.”

“Yay!” She brightened again. “What is your favorite cereal?”

Sirius smiled. “Fruit Loops.”

“Cheerios,” Talker said. “They’re good for you physically and emotionally.”

“I’m with Talkie on this one,” James agreed.

Finn gave them all disappointed looks. “You’re so old. Mine’s Lucky Charms.”

“Okay, Leprechaun Boy,” James snorted. Finn reached over and smacked the back of his head. “Hey!”

“Do you ever play hockey at home?” Jules asked. “I feel like Sirius doesn’t have to answer this one since it’s so obvious.”

Finn laughed. “Does tapping a puck around on the carpet with brooms counts?”

“Yeah, that counts.”

“Then yeah, sometimes.”

“I have no space in my apartment to play hockey,” Talker said. “Though I plan on moving someday and then the answer will be yes.”

“I made a rink in my backyard.” James smiled slightly. “Lily likes to skate sometimes while I run drills.”

“My turn, my turn!” Katie scooted her chair closer. “Okay. Out of everyone on the team, what two people would you take with you on a dessert island?”

“Desert,” Jules corrected quietly.

“Desert island. Are there deserts on islands?”

“I think they mean like super sandy beaches with no people on them.”

“Oooooohhh.”

James mouthed a thank you to Dorcas, who gave him a thumbs-up in return. The other three looked at the kids with unbearable softness. “Well, I’d feel awful if I took your dad with me, so I think I’m going to go with Finn and maybe Kasey. We’d have a blast.”

“Nice, dude.” Finn fist-bumped him. “Unfortunately for you, my choices are going to be Leo and Logan, since I already know we could live together without starting a war on the third day.”

Sirius thought for a second. “I think Nado would actually be able to survive on a desert island, so I’ll bring him along, and for the second one…maybe Kasey? Yeah, Kasey’s cool.”

In the ensuing silence, Jules gave him a significant look. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”

“You’re not on the t—” The realization hit him like a truck; his eyes went wide and he slumped in his seat as the others burst out laughing. “Oh no. Oh, no, no, no.”

“Your own fiancé.”

“Please don’t tell him.”

“He’s gonna laugh so hard,” Jules cackled, leaning back in his chair. Even the camera crew was losing it in the background. Dorcas had to step out of frame. “You’re never going to live it down.”

“Well, the first person I would bring with me is Remus Lupin, because he’s read a lot of books and definitely knows how to survive on a desert island,” Talker said around his snickering. “And then I’d bring Cap, because God knows that would get entertaining after Loops finds out about this. The sarcasm would be off the charts.”

“Okay, next question.” Dorcas came back into view, still grinning. “Jules, go for it.”

“Can I ask Katie’s question again so Sirius can give a better answer?” he asked gleefully. Dorcas hesitated, then shook her head. “Bummer. What was cool when you were young that isn’t cool now?”

“When?” Finn looked scandalized. “I’m 24!”

“Yeah, and?”

“Ugh. Um, maybe Furbies? People were really into Furbies when I was in high school, though I can’t say I’m sorry to see them go out of style.”

James bit his lip in thought. “Tamagotchis.”

“I loved those things!” Talker said excitedly. “My sisters and I used to go nuts with those things!”

Sirius smiled. “Lite Brites.”

Finn’s eyes went wide. “I forgot about those!”

“Regulus and I each had one and we loved them. That was the only thing we agreed on and we used to sit—” He paused for a second to laugh. “—we used to sit in the middle of the ice rink in the backyard, still in our skates and everything, and do Lite Brites for literal hours.”

“That’s so cute, oh my god.” Talker shook his head. “What a nostalgia trip.”

Katie knelt on her seat and rested her arms on the table. “Who skates faster, you or me?”

“You,” all four answered in unison.

Jules rolled his eyes, but he was clearly hiding a smile. “How many push ups can you do?”

“How many can you do?” James countered. A flash of competition lit on Jules’ face and all the guys grinned. “Uh-oh, there’s the Lupin glare.”

“How about we have a little competition?” Dorcas suggested. “See how many everyone can do in thirty seconds?”

“Absolutely,” Finn said. The four of them had a little bit of trouble getting their knees out from under the kid-sized table, but eventually they succeeded and gathered in the middle of the room. “Katie, are you joining us?”

She smiled innocently. “No, I know I’d win.”

“Get ready.” Dorcas pulled her phone out as they knelt. “On your marks, get set, go!”

The guys went easy on Jules from the outset, but they made it look like those pushups were the hardest exercise they had ever done in their lives. Talker took a second to dramatically wipe his forehead and James’ wheezing was almost comical; Jules, however, was giving it his best shot. When the timer finally went off, Finn collapsed with a groan. “I forfeit.”

“Did I win?” Jules panted, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“You did, congratulations!” Dorcas put her timer away and winked at the camera as they headed back to the table. “Great job, everyone. Katie, your turn.”

“Do you live in a mansion?”

“I live in an apartment,” Finn said.

“Same.”

Sirius shook his head. “My house might be big, but it’s not a mansion.”

“Does a two-story house count as a mansion?” James asked. “No? Then no, I don’t.”

“Who is your least favorite person on the team and why?” Jules turned to Sirius with raised eyebrows. “Are we going to have another desert island problem?”

Sirius threw his hands in the air, speechless, as the other three cracked up. “Jules, can I adopt you?” James begged around his laughter. “Please?”

“You’ll have to fight my mom for that, I think.”

“My least favorite person on the team is James Potter,” Sirius sighed. “Not the person I’m getting married to.”

“We could get married. Lily might mind, though.”

“Full offense, but I know way too much about you to ever consider that.”

James ruffled his hair and turned back to the kids. “My least favorite person on the team is Remus Lupin, because he ran me over in practice the other day.”

Finn side-eyed him. “Didn’t you trip him after he stole the puck from you?”

“He ran me over.”

“Sure, Pots. Um, my least favorite is Kasey Winter. He threw ice at me while we were in the ice baths.”

“Logan took my Gatorade last week and hid it all over the rink,” Talker said. “I’ll never forgive him for such a crime.”

“Oh, I like this one!” Katie exclaimed as she looked at her card. “What’s the best birthday party you’ve ever had?”

“My tenth birthday was at Red Robin and I got a Power Ranger outfit.” Talker grinned. “I was the coolest kid on the block.”

“My eighteenth birthday was pretty fun,” Finn said. “There was a bouncy house and Alex almost broke it because we were jumping too hard.”

“Does it have to be my birthday?” James asked. “Because my son’s first birthday party was awesome.”

“Why?”

“He threw cake in Sirius’ face and a food fight broke out in the backyard.”

“That was a pretty great day,” Sirius agreed. “My last birthday party was my favorite.”

“You spent the night with us!” Katie said happily.

“I did, yeah,” he laughed. “And I had a really good time.”

Jules perked up when he read the next question. “I love this one! Do you have a lucky pair of underwear?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, totally.”

“Of course I do.”

“Is there a superstition I don’t have?”

Jules looked especially pleased with those answers as Katie picked up her card. “This is the last one,” she warned. “And it’s super important and super hard. What kind of dog would you be and why? You can take your time, I don’t mind.”

“Thank you, Katie, we’ll need it,” Talker said as he desperately tried to contain his smile. “I’ll go first, if nobody minds. I would be a border collie because one, I love them; two, they have a lot of energy; and three, they love making friends.”

“That’s a good one,” she said seriously. “They’re also very soft.”

“Yes, they are.”

Once Finn managed to suppress his quiet laughter, he raised his hand. “Can I go next?” Katie nodded. “I’d be an Irish setter. They have red hair and they’re really affectionate. Plus, I met one the other day at the park and haven’t stopped thinking about him.”

“This was a tough question, Katie, but I think I’m going to go with a golden retriever,” James said after a moment. “They’re good family dogs and they like to be on the ice with those big ol’ paws.”

“That’s what I was going to say!” She beamed at him. “Sirius, you don’t have to go. I already know what you’d be.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking highly amused. “Do you now? Can everyone else know, too?”

“Well, it’s obvious,” she said. “You’d be Hattie. She looks just like you and she gives the best hugs.”

A small puff of air left Sirius’ lungs and he blinked as James reached over and patted his shoulder. “Oh. Okay.”

“That wraps us up,” Dorcas said, looking between them with a soft smile. “Any closing statements from our guest stars?”

“Ready?” Jules muttered to Katie, who nodded rapidly. “On three. One, two, three!”

“Go Lions!” they shouted in unison with matching grins. The camera crew cheered and the players applauded, all laughing.

“Thank you for tuning in, everyone! Remember to like and subscribe for more content.”

[thexfridax]

Wynonna Earp Boss Hopes Syfy Finale Made You Feel 'All the Things' — Plus, Scoop on One Happy Wedding Accident

By Matt Webb Mitovich, tvline.com / April 9 2021, 8:02 PM PDT

The following contains spoilers from the Syfy finale of Wynonna Earp.

After four years of protecting Purgatory with her Peacemaker, Wynonna Earp got to quite literally ride off into the sunset. And she did so while straddling a motorcycle, with Doc Holliday seated behind her.

Mind you, the two almost didn’t wind up together. Following the simply beautiful “WayHaught” wedding, Doc (played by Tim Rozon) was determined to put Purgatory in Charlene’s rear view mirror and get to living life as “just a man,” and Wynonna (Melanie Scrofano) felt compelled to stay put as Purgatory’s protector. But with an empowering nudge from li’l sis Waverly (Dominique Provost-Chalkley), Wynonna caught up to her man and professed her love, after which they decided to travel light, for the first time in a long time, and pay their daughter Alice a visit in MIracles, Montana.

TVLine spoke with series creator Emily Andras about crafting this very fine finale, at least one “happy accident” that wound up stirring many emotions, and more.

TVLINE | The finale has just aired…. What emotions do you hope the fans are feeling at this moment?

Just head-to-toe body warmth, and love, and affection, and wistfulness…. And a little bit of bittersweetness. I feel like joy has to be paired with nostalgia, so I hope they’re feeling all the things. But hopefully not hungover!

TVLINE | At what point over the years did you ever envision Wynonna and Doc riding off into the sunset?

Ahhh! I almost never even let myself envision it, you know? It’s so funny — when you start doing a show, you have all sorts of ideas about what pairings are going to rise to the top, who’s going to end up with whom, and one of the joys of Earp is that so many different things have happened. But those two characters have certainly earned the chance to try to be happy, whatever that means to them. I never knew that I would be allowed to end such a romantic pairing with the woman driving the motorcycle and the guy on the back.

TVLINE | I’m watching that final sequence and it almost feels alien, seeing the two of them head off into what I think of as “the real world.” But I also found that viscerally exciting, to see so much ahead for them.

That’s so lovely, thank you for saying that. I feel like having the world ahead of them and being such an unusual couple, I would love to see what happens next for them. I’m sure there will be lots of crazy sex and crazy arguments and crazy laughter. So, godspeed! Godspeed.

TVLINE | When throwing a season-ending wedding, what is Emily Andras’ marching order? “Above all else, this wedding has to be…”?

It has to honor to all of the characters — and by that, I mean it has to try to find a moment for every special pairing on the show, not just WayHaught. I think it’s important to pay due respect to how far Waverly and Doc have come; she never gave up on him, she always saw a better man in him — and now he gets to be the best man! Nedley (Greg Lawson) and Nicole’s (Kat Barrell) relationship, that paternal/daughter bond is so special, so honoring that was very important.

And at the end of the day, I still think the real love affair of the show is the Earp sisters, so I ended to make sure that that was honored. I really love the parallel with the pilot, where Wynonna came into town against her will and was so hungry to leave but was forced to stay. And now you have Waverly secure enough in how their relationship has evolved, that she knows Wynonna deserves to leave again — because she’ll come back.

More than anything, it was about giving every character a moment of happiness. Even Jeremy (Varun Saranga) becoming deputy chief of Black Badge and maybe finding a new date…. It was all about finding everyone a moment of potential joy, after they’ve gone through so much after four seasons.

TVLINE | Talk about the decision to have empty guest chairs laid out with the names of those who are no longer with us or didn’t make it to the wedding.

That was such a happy accident. We were on-set, it was very much in the middle of the pandemic, and we knew we were going to have a limited number of people for the wedding. But then we put out chairs so you could understand where the aisle was, and they looked really empty. So my incredible director, Paolo Barzman, who also did the pilot, and my art director Trevor Smith, pitched this idea to me. I had sort of joked about, “Wouldn’t it be cool if you had the ghosts of characters past?” In the moment, they said, “What if we hung names on the chairs?” and it was just one of those goosebump moments, like, “That’s brilliant.” So then we have people writing up these cards, rushing them out, and it’s honestly one of my favorite things. Whenever I see that Dolls chair, I just can’t help but feel things.

TVLINE | But Mercedes (Dani Kind), to be clear, is still with us.

She’s just out, like, being her best vampire self. She’s out being an amazing vampire, yeah. I still have that spinoff if you want to help me sell that!

TVLINE | If anything caught me a bit off-guard, it was us getting a song from Rachel (played by Martina Ortiz-Luis).

The thing about Martina is that she is a phenomenal singer. She is the anthem singer for the Toronto Maple Leafs — so she’s quite a star here! — and she was on Pilipinas Got Talent back in the day…. It seemed like a waste to not have someone with such an exceptional voice perform! And what better song to lay over the necessary wedding montage than a WayHaught classic (Fleurie’s “Wildwood”), the song that was playing the first time WayHaught kissed. It’s a bit of an Easter egg for those hardcore WayHaughters!

TVLINE | I don’t think anyone would have ever felt like a “Dark Angel Waverly” detour was missing, if you hadn’t spent time on it the episode prior. Why did you feel it was important to go there during one of the final hours?

The truth of it is that honestly we’ve been balancing the spectre of whether we were going to have a Season 5 or not. When we started breaking Season 4 two years ago, we were looking down the barrel of about 24 episodes, so [when you get half that] you’re like, “What are we going to keep, and what are we going to pitch overboard? What can we live without learning about?” I would argue that this idea of Waverly having a darkness inside of her did have to be highlighted after four seasons. I completely agree that in a perfect world I could have done eight episodes of Dark Angel Waverly, exploring that and seeing it come to pass. But if we ever get more story, I don’t know if Waverly has complete control over that part of herself. I dont think it’s “gone.” If Nicole puts mayo instead of mustard on her sandwich, who knows what’s going to sprout out!

TVLINE | I mean, if only to see what other outfits Dark Waverly has.

As long as she keeps her thigh holster, she’s ready to go.

TVLINE | Looking back at these last few episodes, what are you most proud of?

‘m so proud of this cast. It’s so boring, but God, just to see them grow and thrive and shine…. performing comedy and emotion, seeing their commitment to the show, and the feelings…. It’s just been such a joy to see such an amazing group of people get their due. They really are that wonderful, off-screen as well.

I’m also pretty happy — in this day and age, and despite all the fights the show has been through — that if this is the end, I feel like that’s a pretty nice finale, a pretty good topper on the cake. I feel like the fans will feel like they went on a journey, and they left the characters in an interesting, good place. And look, that’s really rare in TV, to end your story the way you want. How can I be anything but grateful, at the end of the day?

TVLINE | When I was writing my tweet the other morning, I wanted to call it a “very fine finale,” but I worried you’d think I was saying it was only “fine.” But it was a very fine finale!

No, you have to keep me hungry! You get to challenge me, Matt. Listen, I just didn’t want to risk…. I’m the queen of 75 cliffhangers, but I feel like the fans have worked so hard for us, for so many years, that it was more important that they got closure, just in case. But there’s always another demon, there’s always another thing to trigger Dark Angel Waverly. There’s always more story, but at least you have this, no matter what.

TVLINE | And if some network or streamer does ride to the rescue, would there be something that brings Wynonna and Doc back to Purgatory? Or might a Season 5 be without the two of them?

Look, the show is called Wynonna Earp, so you need Wynonna Earp. She’s still the champion, she’s still got the magic gun and the best hair on the show — sorry, everyone else!

There are a couple of unresolved issues. We still have Eve, who we kicked out the the Garden very early in the season, and who can kind of shapeshift; she could take on the appearance of any one of our characters! That would certainly throw a wrench in the works in Purgatory. There are a million different reasons to bring Wynonna back, to help out her sister.

TVLINE | And lastly, was there anything you had to cut or just didn’t have room for, or any returning cast you couldn’t fit in?

Oh, tons. But look, you kind of hit the nail on the head earlier. I’m always striving to be better, and some stuff at the end felt a little rushed, with Dark Angel Waverly. I think if it hadn’t been a pandemic, there would have been more people at that wedding. I would have loved four more episodes to round the bend there. But look, that’s Wynonna Earp, man — perfectly imperfect! So that’s what we did, and what a ride it’s been. The ride of a lifetime for me.

[illdesigns]

30 magcharles👀👀

“I never cheated on you! How could you even think that?!”

Charles’ eyes followed Magnus as he paced and ranted - it was a wall of noise that he could barely register and keep up with, and he probably couldn’t even if he had wanted to do so. Which he didn’t. There were bigger issues at hand (literally so, Falconback documents rustling as he shuffled them from time to time) than whatever Magnus had burst through the door with. But it was Charles’ decision to bring Magnus back so he was sort of stuck listening to him complain. If he had decided on buying a new puppy he would have had to put up with accidents on the carpet from time to time. He viewed it the same way.

But eventually, dogs were trained. It had been months of this now and Magnus’ more egregious behaviors remained unimproved.

“And the food sucks,” Magnus snapped finally before stopping in his tracks. “Well?”

“Well?” Charles repeated calmly, head tilted to the side. “Improve your behavior and you get better food.”

“That is the least of my fuckin’ problems and you know it!” he retaliated when faced with an immediate comment on his behavior. “I...we...you-you always did this!”

Did he? Point out Magnus’ issues, problems, behaviors before? He didn’t remember that at all. The opposite, really. Charles remembered many waves of his hand when Magnus would blow up, or sulk, or show up too drunk or high to listen at meetings or play at practices or shows. He remembered he put up with quite a bit from him.

“One...one pack of cigarettes,” Magnus suddenly said. “That’s all I want. I’ll make it worth your while.”

Charles reared his head back with a look of disgust.

“The way you were brought back fixed your body in multiple ways, including the...chemical dependencies...you picked up over the years,” Charles shook his head. “You shouldn’t start the habit again.”

Magnus folded his arms over his chest in a pout.

“You always did this shit back in the day, just...shut off,” he said sullenly.

“I’m sorry, is me asking you not to start up smoking again and delicately avoiding how you propositioned me...shutting off?” he repeated with a dry tone.

“...Yeah,” replied Magnus after cutting his eyes to the side. “Fixed my body and not the eye, huh?”

“We can pick and choose,” he looked at the door. “Do you have anywhere to be?”

Magnus paused. Opened his mouth as if to speak, before closing it again. His arms remained locked around himself as he shifted his weight on his feet, looking at the lamp on Charles’ desk instead of him. Charles had hoped he would have taken the hint, but instead he watched as Magnus all but rooted himself onto the floor of his new office.

“I miss you,” his voice was small and soft, odd compared to the anger from just a moment before. A sudden open vulnerability as if he was rolling onto his back and displaying a soft underbelly to sharp teeth. “How you were...before…”

Charles folded his hands together and looked at the lamp as well, as if it was a way of making eye contact.

“Have you not considered that I feel the same?” he asked. “For better reasons?”

“Before you cheated, I can see that, yeah,” Magnus scowled as the bitterness seeped from his voice.

Wait.

Charles remembered plenty of things. He had an excellent memory. No history of memory problems, no long-standing blackouts from substance abuse, no want to make himself forget - as hard as he tried to. And Charles did not remember cheating.

Charles did not remember having a monogamous, romantic relationship with Magnus Hammersmith in the first place.

“I never cheated on you,” he said flatly. Magnus looked up at him. “How could you even think that? We weren’t ever together.”

Magnus opened his mouth again before baring his teeth in a frustrated snarl. His face flushed dark and ruddy as he stood, still and unmoving like a tree.

“Magnus?” Charles began. “You know that we weren’t, right?”

“I don’t...I don’t remember…” Magnus finally said.

“What do you mean, you don’t remember?” he leaned forward in his seat.

Brain death, a lack of oxygen, synapses corroding, memories burning to ash as Magnus’ corpse sat and languished until it was found. Charles hadn’t had that problem. But, Charles had come to the Church far more...fresh.

He looked at Magnus with a furrowed brow and watched as Magnus picked on a scab on his arm with an intense gaze at his shoes. A pang of guilt sank in his stomach and pooled throughout his body. It had been months since Magnus had been brought back.

And all this time, he had thought-

“I remember we...we were close. I remember being in your house a lot. Your bedroom. I know that I l…” Magnus stopped himself. “I remember you stopped taking your shirt off, around me, even when we-“

The brand on the back of Charles’ neck had a phantom itch. It was years old - bestowed upon him with a proper initiation. The first Gear. Prestigious. And received when Magnus, ignorant of prophets and stars and churches, was still sharing his bed. Even when Charles became more familiar with the prophecy, when he spent long days at work in a law office and long nights under Ishnifus’ tutelage.

“So I thought you...you, uh, I dunno, really? I thought we were together and you were sneaking out. Gone a lot. Canceled plans,” he was still going. God, he was still talking. “And you fuckin’ brought me back, man! I figured you, like, gave a shit-“

He stopped. He looked at Charles and snorted suddenly.

“Thought the guy who brought me back from the dead who I used to fuck, like, cared about me. Just did it to laugh, huh?” Magnus’ posture switched suddenly, hunched and inward, hands in his pockets. “Or did you used to?”

“I-“ Charles began.

“You pick and choose that, too?” Magnus threw up his hands. “Y’know what? I do have somewhere to be. Later, dude…call if you wanna reminisce or laugh or...or whatever you have me here for.”

Charles winced at the door slamming shut. Rubbing his eyes under his glasses, Charles sighed and looked down at his papers. He was going to read. He was going to read, and forget.

Magnus was right.

Charles was going to read.

Hours and days and weeks and months of time, spent together. Years of secret trips, of hotel rooms, of Charles’ house, of just existing together.

He was going to read.

Magnus was brought back stupidly, selfishly, against the advice of the other priests. For the want of Charles’ own nostalgia that he remembered with a vividness not granted to the man that he had missed. The smile he remembered and had yet to see again, the hair that he had yet to pet and preen and pull again, the skin that he had touched and kissed when it was cold and hard and not flushed with new life.

Charles watched as a drop fell onto the paper below him. It crinkled the page, smudged the ink, rendered the first half of a word unreadable. He did not read - instead, he held his head in his hands and wept.

[oakandcirrus]

a hallmark movie but better and gayer

inspired by ‘tis the damn season and my own aching heart.

rating: pg

word count: 1.6k

description: you’re going home for christmas, rekindling an old flame, discovering small miracles.

read on ao3: sunshinecorvid

you’re a writer living in LA and you have to go back to your hometown for the holidays. you aren’t looking forward to it, you didn’t leave on good terms and you haven’t been back in years. the flight is a short one but it felt like days. you stared out the window, lost in the nostalgia and the freedom laden haze of your teenage years, the love and the friends and finals and sneaking beers up to clark’s point to watch the sunset, your first kiss, your first heartbreak, your father telling you to get the hell out as soon as you were eighteen.

you land. it’s cloudy like it always was, the mountains white with fresh snow instead of the green of spring or the golden fire of autumn. there’s a pang of regret, regret that you ever left, regret that you ever came back. you had no idea what was waiting for you but you were sure it wasn’t anything good.

your parent’s house hasn’t changed one bit. simple white lights around the porch, an evergreen wreath on the front door laced with red ribbons and holly. your father opens the door. he greets you with a hug, that’s new, you thought. he welcomes you inside, tells you your old room upstairs is all done up and ready for you. there’s the smell of mom’s minestrone.

you head upstairs and almost get knocked over by the overwhelming deja vu, memories coming at you like an ax to your skull. 

you sit down, you don’t unpack. you aren’t staying. 

instead you go through old journals and yearbooks you left behind, seeing faces you no longer had memories to go with, going oh he’s dead now, or she hated me, they liked me. 

you stopped when you came to his face. sharp smile, bright eyes, soft heart. you remember his lips against yours, you remember being shoved away, the only time you’ve ever seen fear on his face, you remember being grabbed and held and loved.

you close the yearbook. dinner should be ready now.

your parents finally grew up. they didn’t understand at first, your father was livid at first, but he understands now. they both do. they ask about anyone back home. you smile, shake your head, and they exchange a glance. 

it’s better than yelling. and a part of you wanted this. you ignored that part.

you eat dinner, they catch you up on what’s changed. the bakery closed down. oh no, you say, we loved that place. there’s a Starbucks there now. you frown, you eat your soup. it’s quiet. you mention it. your sister will be here tomorrow. enjoy it while it lasts, your mom says. 

you have a beer, watch the sun die. just like you used to. you feel as if nothing has changed, but everything has changed. you tell yourself lies. that you are happy. that you enjoy your life. that you don’t miss this.

you are afraid of missing this. nothing has changed, everything has changed.

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

you see him. you turn around and head in the opposite direction. no no no no. you keep walking. you pray he didn’t see you. 

you pray he did.

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

your dad is out of butter. there is not a single stick of butter in the house. apparently this is cause for war. mom needs butter for pie crust, dad needs butter for turkey and dinner rolls. you head out to buy butter.

it’s freezing. never got this cold in LA. ever. you had to buy warm clothes just to come home. 

home. it had never been that before. 

you walk into the corner market. the one that had always been there, a staple, a place locked in time. phil greets you at the door. phil looks like he should be dead by now, but for all you know he’s part of this place’s time magic too. you look over towards the refrigerated section and-

and you’re stupid. you’re the stupidest person alive. 

you saw the truck. you saw red paint and mud-stained tires and the necklace you gave him hanging on the rear view mirror. you saw it parked outside the market. and you walked in. why did you walk in?

you see him. he sees you. he smiles, god that smile, wide and toothy and crooked, he waves. left hand, no ring. he’s wearing an apron that says marjorie’s market, he’s restocking the fridge. henley rolled up to the elbows, tight around his biceps and forearms. why are you noticing this? you aren’t.

you buy your butter. you leave.

you walk in the front door. lean against it and catch your breath, try not to lose it. there’s a log on the fire, the place smells like pine sap and smoke and sugar. your sister walks by. what’s up with you, she says. you scowl. some things never change. 

you head upstairs. you aren’t thinking. you refuse to, you can’t. 

but he’s there on the inside of your eyelids, lodged in your thoughts like the sly little fox he always was. not little, your lovely brain supplies helpfully. 

no, not little. he had grown. boy was a man now. from scrawny muscle and narrow hips to strong arms and broad shoulders. same eyes, same smile. 

did the same things to your heart.

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

there’s a knock at the door. you look out the window. you panic. 

there he was with his hands in his blue jeans and the always-too-big trucker jacket he’d finally grown into. he was nervous. you smile, you curse yourself.

your mom gets up, starts walking to the door and you cannot let that happen no matter what.

it’s too late.

there you are, she says with a smile, wrapping him in her arms. hows you and your father, she asks. dealing, he says. there’s something off in him, an ache in him that sparks an ache in you. you’re curious. your body remembers and it craves. to comfort, to hold. you missed part of the conversation.

mom closes the screen door, he stays right there, rocking on his heels. 

like the air before a thunderstorm, charged with power and potential destruction, you feel your mom’s presence. she snaps your name, scolds you in a way mother’s always can, no matter how old you are. you’ve seen him twice, and you just left? she sounds appalled. she tells you to go talk to him, now. never leave a boy standing out in the cold, she says, bad manners. and with that, she heads back into the dining room to finish a puzzle she started last night. 

you swallow your pride, your nervousness. everything that comes with seeing his face again, hearing his voice again. 

you’re in a sweater, a sweater in a color that he always said you looked good in. that was an accident. you didn’t mean to bring it, you didn’t mean to put it on this morning, but here you were. here he was. 

hey, you say, opening up the screen door and stepping out onto the porch. 

hey, he says. you missed his voice. you hate yourself for it.

it’s awkward. there’s no debating it. you feel like jay and daisy. the tension of silent years and unspoken words and feelings hanging between you, tangling you together. 

you can almost feel mom and dad’s eyes on the back of your neck. your sister was probably watching too, the little devil. 

you ran away, he says, breaking the silence. he laughs, and you missed that too. literally, you ran away from me.

you bury your head in your hands. i’m sorry, you say, you’re laughing too now. you can’t help it. his laughter has always been contagious. the kind that makes you roll on the ground with stomach cramps. 

you tell him you were nervous. 

why, he asks. 

everything, being here, it’s a lot of memories and... it’s a lot. a lot to remember. 

how can you say everything you’ve ever wanted to say without saying a word? how can you tell someone how much they meant to you, how you crumbled when the space they occupied in your heart was empty, how can you tell someone all of the bruises and burns you had gotten because you had made a mistake?

though it wasn’t a mistake, leaving, it was beginning to feel like one. 

he looks at you, into you, sees it all, like he always has, like you’ll always let him. but he doesn’t say a word except, do you wanna go for a drive?

you bite your lip. bad idea. this was a bad, bad, bad idea. you smiled, said let’s go.

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

new roads, same destination. 

his arms, his lips, his bed. 

kissing under stars in the freezing cold.

minutes felt like days felt like seconds.

snowfall and fireplace crackle and small-town Christmas. 

it was Christmas Eve, Christmas day, the day after. all in the blink of an eye. 

Christmas Eve spent with him, spent sharing drinks, spent hands linked. 

Christmas day, snowed in, he was home. talking to your dad, cooking with your mom. his dad came over, a sad sight without his wife, but we ate around the table, talking and laughing, it felt right. it felt like every day, it felt like nothing, it felt like everything.

and then you went back to LA. back to the smog and 75 in December. you weren’t going to keep him waiting if he didn’t ask you to stay. you had a life, sort of, he had a life, sort of. it wasn’t going to work. it couldn’t. because boyfriends don’t run to the airport to stop you from leaving just before your flight, and boyfriends don’t fly four and a half hours to show up outside your door drenched in rain and with a bushel of roses. grand romantic gestures don’t happen. huge miracles don’t happen. 

but little ones do.

a phone call. a bag packed. an empty apartment. a plane ticket.

a home.

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

tag list:

@caffeinatedmlm - @thewitchinghour445

ask to get added or removed. thanks for reading!!

[demonprosecutor]

OVER THE RIVER AND THROUGH THE WOODS... YOU KNOW THE SONG.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

innocence, like all things, succumbs to the touch of death and time - both in conjunction and never not coexisting with each other. it was a difficult pill to swallow at times, but the naivety of childhood could never weather the storm that the real world presented. a sad notion, but a necessary one. your thighs had ached and chafed with the hours of riding upon amydros - you had never ridden this far nor this long without rest. “alright, let’s rest.” you say aloud, pulling on the reins until the horse trots to a stop, towards a bend in the path where you slid down its back, and tied the leather strips around a sturdy branch.

even if winter had always made you nervous on principle (you’ve heard stories of bodies contorted in the throes of winter as lord thanatos had claimed their souls, or of crops failing and leaving a town starving for the next spring), you find relief of the cold on your aching muscles, a brief respite really. By then, your anger had cooled and subdued into a faint irritation. You were never someone who could hold their anger for a sustained amount of time without being weary.

with the edge of the cloak, you brush off gently-fallen snow off of the surface of the flattest rock you could find there, and carefully made sure that the cloak was at your bottom before sitting down. you had always taken your oaths seriously, always taken the truth seriously, but now? amid the snowy emptiness, placing yourself at the forefront of your secret fears of having to traverse the outside world without a safety tether was frightening.

maybe zagreus thought that your inherent fears would force you to remain in the town? that hypothesis makes you flush with indignation, crumpling the cloak between your hands. how dare he?! you weren’t... some... some civilian in distress that needed saving, you were an independent person capable of holding their own in any scenario.

“maybe lord hermes could glean more answers?” despite the distance between the two towns, you found that they held a camaraderie with each other that resulted in frequent trade during the warmer months and therefore, you had managed to catch the information that there was a rather robust temple dedicated to lord hermes. it makes sense, traveller towns tended to venerate that god above all else, well, the aspect of travelling at least. amydros nickers quietly, ears flicking. 

“at least you listen.” you stand up before the chill could seep through clothing and onto skin, walking over to stroke the strong flank of your horse. “zagreus never bothered to listen. always talking, always stumbling through conversation like a newborn fawn...” your hands curl into fists, pressed against the warm fur. “--- but he was always so kind.” zagreus’ warm smile came to the forefront of your mind, mismatched eyes twinkling like stars. “always made me feel like i was... like i was an equal.” 

by then, a flush rises to your cheeks. “and he is, erm, handsome... and sweet and endearing. like a puppy!” a look up and you see amydros leveling a rather judgemental look. as if to say: really? you were angry at him and now... you’re gushing about him

you slap your cheeks hard enough for it to sting, shaking your head. That was... a moment of weakness! you were still incredibly angry with him and you were going to give him a piece of your mind. Once you saw him. Then you’d hug him tightly because you were worried. zagreus did not know how terrible mortals could be, and you’d feel a lot better with him around.

you are alone.... 

amydros, to the horse’s credit, does not rear back in alarm at the voice that echoed around the clearing. too much like anura, you hold your steed’s reins close, heart thundering to the beat of amydros’ panicked breathing. even then, the most prominent thought that manages to sluice through the anxiety was: again?!

a nearby tree creaks, a mighty oak standing tall and bereft of its leaves, yet it shifts - the whorls on its trunk shifting into the closest approximation of a face. a dryad, an ancient, prideful one, if you had to guess. but most of all, something within your chest eases gently, unfurling like the drying wings of a butterfly. as though you were a child that had roused from a nightmare and found solace in their parent’s arms. they were good. above all, this dryad was a kind one, you could tell.

the stiffness of your shoulders lowers slightly, the smile upon your lips warm and assured. “gentle dryad, it is... wonderful to see you in spite of this bitter winter.” you never forget your manners and rifle through your bag, extracting a slice of bread that was given by menelaia before you left, and held it out - an offering to a near-god.

the dryad shifted its eyes to peer at the bread before the trunk cracks open with a thunderous sound, a gnarled wooden arm unfolding from the depths of the tree like an insect leg that carefully plucks the offering from your hand and returns. the air warms briefly, a signifier of its delight, its ineffable gratitude at recognition. nowadays, people forgot to thank the everyday spirits that resided in this world, ones that aided the gods and kept the earth and oceans as verdant and thriving as it was. “thank you, sapling.” it speaks in an ancient tongue, one that you should not understand, but with the magic of the divine, you were able to. a language so ancient, and so lost, it made your bones shudder at its strangeness. “you seek someone.”

you nod, eyes downcast. “yes.”

“a precious someone.” they say gently, a rumble of thunder in the distance, and you cannot help the aching smile on your face. “someone you care and adore.” they unfurl your heartstrings and read between the lines like the ancient rings of its home. wise because of its years and kinder because of it.

“yes. how did you know?” sometimes things weren’t meant to be asked, but you couldn’t help questioning this matter of mind-reading. “is it that obvious?”

a branch creaks downwards, a lone green leaf brushing over your hair, “love is the easiest to see, always so bright and vibrant. yet...” it brushes away a tear at the corner of your eye. “you are filled with such a terrible sadness, sapling.”

and you chuckle at that, tilting your head, “since when is that a new thing? are not all living things with terrible sadnesses?” you grab your arms, crossing them and rubbing them as a way to comfort. “he left me behind. to protect me from whatever evil this journey will birth. but i was ready to be there next to him! i was ready to protect him in my own way.” you weren’t exactly sure what that looked like, but you were prepared to sacrifice - after all, it’s not like you had much at stake.

the dryad stares at you, eyeless sockets like the void, but infinitely more comforting. before it sighs, “i will help you--”

“why?” you interrupt, cautious as ever.

“i do not have long on this realm and you were the first being that had shown me kindness, is it not fitting for one birthed from love to return love?” the ground breaks, a root curling upwards, breaking through the winterfrost that made it forest floor unmoveable. upon closer, you see a circle of gold hanging from the curve of the root. “forged from deep within the earths, when i used to boast more beauty than now. it is meant to guide you to your heart’s desire.”

you look at the ring, the metal warm and lovely - as though you held your hands against a flickering hearth. “how does it work?”

it laughs softly, a whisper of a breeze, bringing the smell of spring before demeter’s winter dominates once more. “bring it close to your chest and allow your heart to guide you, the ring will show you the way.” you pull back and offer your gratitude with a smile, a nod, watching as the dryad heaves one more mighty sigh before the trunk seals shut and the face fades into obscurity, once more like the trunk it was before.

you stand there, the ring clutched to your chest, just above your heart. it was strange to speak to a dryad that wasn’t speio, shaking your head to dismiss the cobwebs of memory that persisted. there was no point in sinking into nostalgia, it was better to do so when everything calmed down.

as the dryad had instructed, you closed your eyes and allowed thoughts to fall away from your mind - leaving you with the blissful emptiness that allowed your heart to speak freely, without obstruction. the ring warms, hot enough that you grow alarmed, eyes snapping open and peering down at the metal. it shone like a miniature sun, whispering sweetly before a beam of light shoots forward, between the trees and to the great beyond. “what the---” your brows furrow, as you wave a hand through the beam of light, disturbing it like ripples of water, yet remains steadfast in the direction it pointed.

was this what the dryad meant by the ring showing you the path to your heart’s desire?

suddenly buoyed by the thought of your journey made easier, you grin and untangle amydros’ reins from the branch and leapt onto his back, kicking your heels into his flanks. “follow the light!” amydros tosses his head, kicking up dirt and snow underneath his hooves.

the woods thicken, branches so numerous that it blocked the sn, the darkness illuminated by the magical glow of the ring, casting away the shadows that lingered at the edges of your vision. it was wise to allow the both of you to rest, but wolves prowled about in these woods - that and untold dangers. and you weren’t willing to boast your admittedly-pathetic fighting skills.

you had been following the path of the light, unwavering, wind stirring your hair and breath frosting in the air - but then it veers sharply to the right, into a darker path. “shit!---” you yank on amydros’ reins to halt his run, backing him up until you were in full-view of the deviation of the path. “why here?” the ring is brought to your face, pulsating with warm life, pointing into the darker woods, the branches curling about like an archway. unnatural, yet not. 

was this your heart’s desire?

with the reins clutched tightly in your hands, you turn your steed towards the dark void of the path, branches and rotted wood curling about. amydros flicks his ear uneasily, and you stroke his neck carefully. “easy. there must be something there.” with a deep breath and no small amount of courage, you both turn onto the path.

the trail was craggy. interrupted by fallen branches, stones and grooves. this told you that it was a path not regularly traveled by horse or by man, a thought that does not comfort you. after all, danger does not only lie with the mortal realm.

the thought to turn around arose the deeper you went down the path, but considering how tight the squeeze was, it wasn’t an option. trees shuddered, darkness encroaching and stifling enough that you couldn’t breathe. visions of red and crimson flashed before your gaze, screams shrilling in your ears, body shaking and fists curled tightly enough that it bit into your palms.

red and gold, red and gold. only the union of gods and mortal so bold ---- can end this all.

blood flooded your mouth, spilling down your chin, and when you think you cannot handle anymore... you stumble into an open meadow. the air was still, the grass and flowers frosted, yet alive - suspended between life and death. purple butterflies floated about, lingering at your side before floated off. the ring warms, the light pointed towards the figure standing in the middle, draped in reaper’s cloth and scythe held like a harbinger above the hood of lord thanatos.

he looked surprised by your appearance, just as you were by his. “what are you doing here? and... where is zagreus?” lord thanatos looks past you, expecting to see the prince stumble after you, but after realizing that he wasn’t there, golden eyes snap to you.

you slide down with shaky legs, wiping the blood away with the edge of the cloak, approaching lord thanatos and dropping to a knee. the cold immediately sunk into your knee, head bowed. “lord thanatos, i did not expect to see you here.” nor did you expect to have the ring show thanatos to be your heart’s desire, but you kept that fact wisely to yourself, face reddening. “---the prince isn’t here. he left me behind at a town, intent on pursuing his---” you pause, lifting your head before pushing yourself to your feet. was it wise to reveal why zagreus left? or were you going to set things in motion that should not occur.

“well?” he asks impatiently, his features deadpan, yet betraying enough that you knew it was better to speak. besides, zagreus had always spoke about the steadfastness of thanatos, about how he was to be trusted. you quickly pray that he was right.

“prince zagreus went to pursue his missing mother. in a place heavily shielded by magic. lord hermes had given him a map and i intended to follow, but he left me behind. i was given this,” you show the glowing ring, the beam of light disappearing into the darkness of his garb, “and it led me to you. it was meant to show my... heart’s desire.” it was said fast, yet your face warms. “the times are growing stranger, my lord...”

lord thanatos takes everything in, eyes falling shut in thought. “mmm. interesting, this is quite troubling news.” he hovers above the flowers, brows furrowed in a tight knot. death incarnate does not speak for some time, long enough that you shift in place uneasily. "things are changing. things are not dying and ancient evils are speaking within the wells of tartarus. zagreus' mother disappearing is the first step. the olympians will not intervene unless they need to," lord thanatos says this with a curl to his lip, derision evident. "instead they will use zagreus and whatever foolish individual that follows as tools."

(you suspect that he's speaking about you...)

"nonetheless, we cannot leave the fool to die. or meet a fate unknown." his scythe swishes in the air, purple eye blinking at you magnanimously. "i will aid you in your quest, groundskeep." lord thanatos was an imposing figure and to have him as an ally was.... well, it was comforting. there was no figure, no deity feared more, than this god before you. even the olympians feared what he could do; for through his touch, they could find their deaths as well.

"wait--- you're helping me?" your mouth drops open in shock, and this! coming from someone who had threatened you weeks ago....

lord thanatos arched a brow, "was i unclear in my declaration? i'm going to help you find zagreus and subsequently, his mother. it is a pain to have things... not die." there's something in his eyes that told you that there was something more to this, but you don't pry. the machinations of gods were not your concern. "i will speak with lord hermes and see if he could replicate the map he gave zagreus, let your magic ring guide you to him. meanwhile, here." lord thanatos reaches into his chiton, producing a small, little tattered mouse. patchworked with fabric and soft to the touch. it nestled comfortably in the circle of your arms. 

"... what is this?" you look up at death incarnate, cocking your head. why... was he giving you a child's toy?

much to your surprise, his cheeks took on a gentle, gold hue. as though he was embarrassed by your question. “his name is mort, use him if you are in trouble, and i shall come to your aid. but! only when you need it, i cannot always come. find zagreus, do not fail me. and, groundskeep? this is between us.” lord thanatos says this threateningly before disappearing in a flash of green light, temporarily causing spots to appear in your vision.

you are left alone, the earth heaving a sigh at the departure of death. the air stirred once more, the darkness lifting slightly and the strange, purple butterflies that danced in the meadows were gone. you looked at the little mouse, large enough to carry comfortably, and soft too! a quick look around told you that you were alone, save for amydros grazing nearby and took a slight sniff of the toy. 

it smelled of... lavender. of ash. the two smells of your dead town that dominated your nose. but instead of filling you with grief, you were filled with a strange sense of peace. you place mort at the bottom of your bag, where it wouldn’t fall out by accident and leapt once more onto amydros’ back.

the path that you had entered was brighter now, less stifling. the ring flickered to life and pointed northward - towards the town that menelaia had spoken about. you kick your heels and amydros thundered towards where he needed to be.

yet even with the ache of your thighs, the burn of your lungs, your thoughts went back to the god. what did he mean by things not dying anymore? what evil speaks in tartarus? perhaps these questions would be better answered with an oracle or a seer - if the town had any. “let’s hope we find zagreus by then,” you say aloud, amydros’ ear flicked back at you in acknowledgement.

but you weren’t that worried, zagreus had a way of avoiding trouble.

[thewatermelloncat]

Unimaginable Things   (Part 1)

Summary: The Hargreaves siblings have never really gotten along, but now they need to more than ever with the apocalypse looming. And with Five’s immune system compromised from time travel, hopefully they can come together to help him because if they can’t, what chance do they have of standing together against their impending doom?

Author’s Note: I wrote this fanfiction over a year ago now, but I wanted to post something Umbrella Academy related after just finishing Season 2, though I’m still waiting for inspiration to strike. I thought this might do nicely in the meantime as a bit of nostalgia, going back to the days I only specialised in sicifcs. How far we’ve come…

Warnings: This loosely follows the storyline of SEASON 1, so it contains SPOILERS for around EPISODE 3.

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

Hours upon hours of watching and waiting for any sign of life to disappear into MeriTech is starting to wear on him. Five arches his shoulders in an attempt to crack the stiffness out of his back then settles back down into the driver’s seat, bracing his elbow on the door below the window. He pulls his wrist up to sniffle wetly into his sleeve and grimaces as he swallows at the ache in his throat. Now is really not the time to be getting sick, he knows that.

He also knows that the headache he is sporting now isn’t only brought on by the time travel. It hurt to hold his eyes up straight ahead, so he settles for leaning his head back against the window feeling the cool glass on his skin and allowing his gaze the flow under his dark lashes.

Beginning to zone out and almost tipping towards the threat of sleep, he observes as a group of kids his age, well he would appear to be their age, walk in front of the van. He hates to admit it, he has a far greater purpose than partaking in immature and juvenile activities, but he is jealous that he missed out on the rest of his childhood. Well his childhood in general.

Pain spikes in his head and he draws his eyes away, closing them tightly. When he opens them again, he can no longer see the street. Buildings had toppled over, their rubble spilling over the roads and pavements. Fires around him intensify the heat of his fever. That must be it, he couldn’t be back. It must be some kind of fever dream - but he didn’t think he was that sick.

Maybe the Handler found him a brought him back here as a punishment for escaping her. He turns around his breath grating rapidly through his chest in panic, but he can’t see her, he can’t see anyone. Panic consumes him and he starts to yell something out before a faint voice calls something to him, drawing him back.

Gasping in a breath, the smoke of the apocalypse clears away. “Five?” he turns to Luther calling his name from outside, knocking on the door. He withdraws his gaze and looks straight ahead, trying to compose himself as his brother struggles to fit into the car.

“You okay?” Luther asks, leaning back in the too small seat.

“You shouldn’t be here” Five snarls. He needed to be alone for this. “How did you find me?”

Five follows Luther’s eyes to the rear-view mirror seeing Klaus’s reflection dancing in the back of the van with Delores. “Hey guys a little privacy, we’re already hitting it off back here” Klaus whines before dodging the empty coffee cup Five throws at him.

“Get out! You can’t be here, I’m in the middle of something!” he wouldn’t have missed if his head didn’t hurt so badly.

Klaus ignores him as he comes up to kneel behind his brothers. “Any luck finding your one-eyed man?”

“What’s he talking about?” Luther interrupts shooting Five a confused look.

“Doesn’t matter it’s Klaus” Five dismisses. “What do you want Luther?”

“Uh, so Grace may have had something to do with Dad’s death. So, I need you to come back to the Academy” Luther explains. “It’s important.”

“It’s important” Five repeats in a mocking tone, “you have no concept of what’s important.”

He zones out looking out through the window at passing cars thinking about how inconvenient this situation is. It’s only when Luther mentions that Klaus should leave the van that he returns to the conversation. “Luther’s got a point you can get out” he affirms much to his brother’s annoyance.

“Fine!” Klaus shouts as he slams the door and wonders off.

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

“What are you up to Five?” Luther demands looking back to his brother in the driver’s seat.

“Believe me you wouldn’t understand” Five discards quickly.

“Try me. Last time I checked I was still the leader of this family.”

“Well last time I checked, I’m 28 years older than you” Five defends, allowing a patronising tone seep into his voice.

“You know what your problem is?” Luther lowers his voice.

“I’m really hoping you’ll tell me” Five says his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You think you’re better than us. You always have. Even when we were kids.” The pauses between Luther’s sentences put Five on edge. “But the truth is you’re just as messed up as the rest of us. We’re all you have. And you know it.”

“I don’t think I’m better than you are, I know I am.”

Luther huffs and smiles shaking his head to himself.

If only he could see the things Five has done, then he’d understand. “I’ve done unimaginable things, things that you couldn’t even comprehend.”

“Right” Luther passes over.

“Just to get back and save you all” Five finishes in time for Klaus to run out of the store arms full of his stolen goods.

“Hey bitches!” he yells at them as he runs across the street.

“I’m starting to wonder if that was the wisest decision” Five wants to blame it on him not feeling well, but he knew even then he and Luther should have known it was a terrible idea to leave Klaus unsupervised.

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

The boots Allison wore echo every step as she paces throughout the lounge. She hadn’t expected a quick trip, especially not with Klaus involved, but she had thought that they’d have brought Five back sooner.

She sighs in relief when she hears the main door open and a group of footsteps make their way through the hallway. Hurrying out under the archway she makes her way towards the base of the stairs to greet them.

“HaRIsshoo!” a harsh sneeze sounds from around the corner where she can’t see.

“Bless you” she condemns as Luther steps into view.

“That wasn’t me” he dismisses as Five appears from behind him, nose still buried in the crook of his arm.

Allison draws her head back, eyebrows lifting in surprise. Thinking, how could a sound so strong come from something so small? Then she has to remind herself that he isn’t actually 13 anymore. But he looks so small now with his reddish nose and unnaturally slumped posture. Luther catches her looking at Five in concern and returns her with a knowing look of his own.

“Everyone else is in the lounge” she says without thinking, her eyes still looking into Luther’s. She’s vaguely aware of Klaus muttering that he needs a drink and brushing past them toward the bar.

“I’m going upstairs to do more calculations” Five mumbles, not looking at either of the glances his brother and sister give him, before heading slowly up the stairs.

Allison looks back at Luther as he watches Five disappear. By the way he doesn’t object to his leaving she assumes he doesn’t mind his sudden absence. Knowing that Five isn’t keen on attending the meeting anyway, Luther figures that it’s probably best to leave him alone considering he’s getting sick. He could be irritable even when he was healthy.

Part 2

[rkiverse]

growing pains, 2.

part one | part two | part three

Summary | Puberty wasn’t really your best friend until she introduced herself to you when you hit your early twenties. However, you wish puberty had befriended your seventeen-year-old self and gave you a huge makeover so that you could impress your long-time crush slash high-school quarterback, Jeon Jungkook. On a journey of finding confidence and self-love, you befriended fate, who had somehow drawn you back to nostalgia; to Jeon Jungkook.

Word Count | 10,044 words (that’s a long ass ride) also pls don’t read this on mobile it might crash!

Genre | lots and lots of fluff and a pinch of angst + quarterback!jungkook and basketballplayer!oc. this starts off with highschool!au but it’s mostly college!au, trust me. also i feel like this is sort of sliceoflife!au and a hint of coming of age.

author’s note: it’s been about a year since i’ve posted the first part. i know, it took me a year to get this up and after months of just putting it off and telling you that it’ll be up (and it doesn’t actually end up happening) here it is. she’s here in full form. but on a serious note, i know that putting this off was just a horrible thing to do to you guys and i know that i don’t owe you an explanation because you didn’t deserve having this being on hold for so long (for a year yikes). but here she is and i’m going to pull through and finish this! so i hope you enjoy this.

second year of university

Your first year of university was quite eventful. You had made a couple of friends in your biochemistry program and on your women’s basketball team. However, you had also become friends with puberty, and you had concluded that you were one of the late bloomers. You didn’t complain, though.

Even though your acne had cleared after updating your skincare routine, and even though your hair was finally tangle-free, you wish puberty never befriended you. Why? Because after your first year of university, you realized that out of all the insecurities you had felt during high school, it had only taught you a lesson to love your true self.

The woman that stares at herself in the mirror today, used to be a woman who dreaded how she looked in the past. She was a woman who tried to live up to society’s expectations, to look and act a certain way, even though it was against how she looked and acted.

It was just a matter of loving yourself. Behind those flaws and behind those traits that people label you with, was a woman who was slowly learning to love herself.

And although you were in a different country fulfilling your scholarship, it only took one heartbeat for you to transfer back to South Korea. Yes, you loved your university and the friends you had created bonds with, but you knew that going back to a place and to people who you call home, is the final road to your happiness and self-love. You had to make peace with your past.

And on top of that, if you were to be quite honest, you preferred the biochemistry program in South Korea better. But you weren’t going to let that defeat the whole main purpose of project self-love and happiness.

“Hello?” You grab your luggage from the luggage pick-up station with one hand and holding your phone against your ear with the other. “Where are you?”

“We’re at the pick-up station, your parents are outside at the pick-up lane.” Hoseok says on the other line, and you notice that his voice had gotten much lower.

You can hear Eunbi saying things in the background of the phone call, but you chuckle when you hear Hoseok hush her.

“I’m coming down the escalator!” You say.

As you head down the escalator with your things, you start searching for two familiar people and you spot them just a few metres away. They have their backs facing towards you, looking at the escalator on the other side of the waiting terminal. You giggle.

“You are? I don’t see you. Where are you?” Hoseok questions.

You hang up and slowly make your way towards them. You can already hear Hoseok yell into the phone before pulling it away from his ear to realize that you had already hung up. Before he dials your number again, you attack them from behind. Hoseok lets out a loud yelp and Eunbi squeaks softly.

As they both turn around, Eunbi stares at you with widened eyes and drops her mini umbrella. It clatters to the floor and you bend down to pick it up. Hoseok somehow chokes on air, and when he finally catches his breath, he starts poking your arm.

“Is there a reason for you to be poking my arm?” You ask teasingly.

“Y/N, is that you?”

“Actually, this is her imposter.” You reply.

“Yah, it’s Y/N, you idiot!” Eunbi exclaims, pushing Hoseok aside and crashing you into a hug.

As the three of you reunite after two years of separation, you decide to celebrate this reunion by crashing Eunbi’s dorm with nothing but burgers, fries, and a laptop to watch movies. After a couple of hours binge watching romcoms, you and Eunbi decide to catch up on each other’s lives while Hoseok had already fallen into a deep slumber on her small bed.

“Have you met someone there?” She grins, popping a chip into her mouth.

You scrunch your nose, shaking your head. “I mean, everyone is beautiful. Everyone is attractive. But I didn’t actually date anyone.”

“So, you’re single?” You nod your head. “And ready to mingle?”

“No!” You exclaim, and she hushes you. From the corner of your eye, you could see Hoseok squirm in his sleep to change into a fetal position. You lean in and harshly whisper at her. “No! I’m not ready, and I’m not going to let you or Hoseok drag me into blind dates.”

“That sucks,” she sighs.

“Why?”

“Because I know a really good candidate.” She teases.

You grab a handful of popcorn and throw it at her. She lets out a soft giggle.

“You’re funny.”

Grabbing your keys and phone from the counter top, you stretch out your arms a final time before heading out. There’s a new school year ahead of you, but you were more than ready to tackle it. Parked in your driveway is Hoseok, along with Eunbi in the backseat.

A ton of things have happened when you had studied abroad for two years. Hoseok was pursuing a kinesiology degree and played for the university’s co-ed basketball team. He proclaims he is still single, but he is open to spice his life up by having an additional person to enjoy his moments with. As for Eunbi, she was pursuing a major in English Literature, and in her Creative Arts class, she had gotten closer to her classmate who was surprisingly Kim Taehyung. Hoseok would always whine about how the two had strong feelings for each other but were too much of a fool to confess. But whenever you would try to encourage Eunbi to confess her feelings to him, she would always tell you that her status with him was a bit complicated.

As for you? You were still the same person. You had just matured. You bloomed in the middle of first year university after becoming friends with puberty. A late bloomer, was what your mother had told you after Skyping with her for two hours on a Sunday evening. But after listening to your friends talk about their love lives and relationships, you were hoping that someday and somehow, fate would befriend you next.

“Get in the car, I have basketball practice in half an hour.” Hoseok urges.

“Geez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

As you hop into the car, Hoseok begins to drive through the neighbourhood. You smile to yourself. The neighbourhoods looked so foreign, yet so familiar because of the memories you have engraved in your mind. From playing basketball on your driveway to sipping lemonade with your best friends on the curb, you knew that coming back was the right thing to do.

“Hey, Y/N, you never really told us why you decided to come back.”

You snap out of your gaze. Hoseok is looking at you through his rear-view mirror, waiting for an answer. Simply shrugging your shoulders, you flash him a small smile.

“I just need to make peace with the past. My past.”

After what seems like ages of driving to campus, you arrive promptly before Hoseok’s basketball practice. The campus field was filled with several sports teams doing their usual morning practices. To the left of the campus field, the track team were doing their stretching routine before hitting the race track for laps. Towards the middle of the field were the basketball players, practicing their shots and passes. Lastly, to the right of the campus field were the football players, practicing their throws.

“Tell me why I decided to attend Hoseok’s practices every other morning again?” Eunbi groans, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

From afar, the both of you could hear Eunbi’s name being called. You glance at a familiar guy, jogging towards the two of you. Kim Taehyung. As he got closer and closer, he looked at you intently until his eyes slightly widened with familiarity.

“Oh, right, it’s because I get to watch Taehyung practice too,” Eunbi says sheepishly, and it’s almost as if she was wide awake at the sight of him.

Once Taehyung approaches the two of you, he nods his head at Eunbi and sends her a flirty wink. Eunbi playfully punches his arm a bit too hard that he ends up letting out a loud yelp of pain. Taehyung looks at you and smiles.

“Hello, stranger.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

You salute him. “Hello, stranger.”

“You look so different, I almost didn’t recognize you.” He chuckles. “I see you’ve ditched the dad hat.”

“Well, not—”

“I hope you didn’t ditch basketball, though.”

“Now that, I didn’t.” You reassure him, and he grins.

Taehyung fist bumps you and nods his head. “Welcome back, Y/N.”

Before the three of you engage further in your conversation, the football coach is yelling at Taehyung to get back on the field. He apologizes for leaving so soon and pecks Eunbi’s cheek before running back to the field. Eunbi looks like she’s floating on Cloud 9.

“A bit complicated, huh?” You tease, nudging her side.

“Let’s just go watch them play, yeah?” Eunbi insists, still in a daze.

The both of you walk down the sidelines of the field, hand-in-hand, and you reach the football field moments later. As the both of you walk a few seats up the bleachers, you take a seat close enough to get a good view of the football players.

From a few metres away, you could see Taehyung walking over to a familiar guy whose face is covered by a helmet. As Taehyung starts talking to him, he pulls off his helmet and you feel your mouth slightly fall open in shock. Jungkook shakes his head and a few droplets of sweat drip off the ends of his hair, leaning in closer to hear Taehyung speak.

“Is that—”

“Yes, it is, Y/N.” Eunbi cuts you off, almost as if she’s read your mind.

You quickly look away, trying to occupy your attention with your phone. Although playing a quick game of 2048 or sending a random good morning text to your sister who could care less was your way of occupying your attention, it had only made you look a bit more obvious of the fact that you were just trying to avoid someone or something in a certain situation.

“Make peace with your past.” You whisper to yourself and Eunbi questioningly raises an eyebrow at you.

Courageously, you look up from your phone and shove it into the pocket of your sweater. The coach blows his whistle and the players are tackling each other. You can’t seem to tell who was who, unless you looked at names on the back of their jerseys. However, you tilt your head in confusion at the sight of one particular player who was just standing there. The player was looking around the field as if they were looking for someone or something. You squinted your eyes to read his jersey, and you feel yourself choke on air. He finally spots you, and he just… stands there, looking at you.

“Jungkook-ah, pay attention!”

But before he could even snap out of it, a football is hitting him straight in the face. Thankfully, the helmet prevents the football from hitting his actual face. He’s flying to the damp grass and lands on his back with a thud. The coach blows his whistle and everyone runs over towards him.

Out of instinct, you stand up and make your way down the field. It seems like you’ve drowned out Eunbi’s scolding voice, telling you to come back and just let the coach do his job, but you couldn’t help it. As an athlete, you learned to look after your teammates and even your opponents. 

As you reach the crowd of players, you squeeze your way to see Jungkook lying on the grass in astonishment. You bend down onto your knees and look at him to see if he was alright. Through his helmet, you could see his eyes staring right back at you. He lets out a soft breathy laugh and his teammates and coach sigh with relief.

“Are you okay—” His coach asks for the nth time, only to be cut off by a loud yell.

You feel yourself being pushed to the side, and somehow, you’re kneeling next to another familiar person. She’s pulling off Jungkook’s helmet and looking at him with nothing but worry.

“Babe, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? I literally just left to get us some coffee and I come back—”

“I’m okay, Mina.” Jungkook cuts her off.

It took you a couple of minutes to decipher the words that were coming out of their mouths. They were a couple. They were in a relationship. Jungkook was dating Mina. You snap out of your thoughts, slowly getting up from your knees. As you brush off the grass from your jeans, you realize that Mina doesn’t seem to remember who you were for she just stares at you with curiosity.

“Y/N-ah!” You look over your shoulder to see Hoseok jogging towards you with a basketball under his arm.

“Y/N?” You hear Mina say softly.

Looking at the football players and the coach, you bow your head and excuse yourself to meet Hoseok halfway.

“What’s up?”

“Coach wants to see this best friend of mine that I keep bragging about on the court.” Hoseok chuckles, tossing the basketball to you. “One on one, shall we? You versus me.”

Before the both of you could head towards the basketball court, you hear your name being called. You turn around to see Jungkook back on his feet. He nods his head at you, but never does he flash you a smile. Standing there questioningly, you hear him barely utter a word.

“Y/N, let’s go?” You’re the first to break the stare and you turn around to catch up to Hoseok who’s already a few metres ahead of you.

Hoseok throws his arm around your shoulder and you let out a loud sigh of relief. He erupts into fits of giggles before reaching out to your face to pinch your cheek. You slap his hand away and groan.

“I thought I was going to die back there,” you whisper to yourself.

“Oh, trust me, get used to it. Now that you’re back, you’ll be seeing more of him again.”

Suddenly, you stop in your tracks. Hoseok looks at you questioningly.

“Are Mina and Jungkook… dating, perhaps?” You ask softly and curiously.

Hoseok stares at you for a moment before bursting out into laughter. While he ruffles your hair, you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“It would be a miracle for Mina if she was dating Jungkook.”

“But back there… she called him babe and she even got him coffee—”

“Y/N, Jungkook never dated anyone since we graduated high school.”

When he saw you again after two years, the air was knocked out of his lungs… literally. He was sent flying to the damp grass after taking a football to the face. He wasn’t sure if what he had seen was a dream, but after blinking once, twice, and even pinching himself a couple of times, his answers were given the moment you came into his vision.

“You’re so whipped for her,” Taehyung mumbles after throwing a pillow to his face.

“Hey! I’ve already taken a football to the face; don’t you think a pillow is a bit overboard now?”

“Someone’s salty today.”

From his periphery, he sees Taehyung turn around on his chair to resume his task of completing his essay. Amid the sounds of typing and backspacing, Jungkook finds himself falling into another deep trance. On the ceiling of their shared dorm room were stars that he had stuck with clear tape. He smiles to himself.

“Stars… really?” Taehyung questions the latter who’s in the middle of cutting up tape to stick more stars onto the ceiling. “You know you could just go outside on the campus lawn and watch the stars from there, right?”

Jungkook completely ignores him, sticking the last star onto the ceiling. He smiles to himself.

“Do you think Y/N sees the same stars as I do?”

“Of course, Jungkook, we all live under the same sky.” Taehyung shrugs his shoulders.

“You really think so?” Taehyung diverts his gaze from the ceiling to his best buddy who’s too busy smiling like a little boy who got his candy.

Taehyung shakes his head to himself with a grin spread across his lips.

He takes another pillow to his face. He groans, sending a death glare to Taehyung.

“You’ve been staring at that stupid ceiling for half an hour now. If you want to go star-gazing with her, just go! What’s holding you back?”

Jungkook frowns. He gets up from his bed and grabs his phone from the bedside table. Taehyung watches his friend make his way to the door.

“Tell her I said hi—” Taehyung’s cut off mid-sentence by the slam of a door. “Or not.”

Jungkook pulls out his earphones and begins to play his music. As he heads out of the dormitory for a late-night campus walk, he notices that the lights of the basketball court were still lit up. His curiosity gets the best of him and he finds himself walking towards the court.

“Yah! Hoseok! You’re travelling!” His ears perk up at the familiar voice.

As he gets closer and closer to the court, he sees you playing one on one with Hoseok. You dribble the ball in between your legs, while Hoseok is trying to block you from side to side. Flashing a grin, you fake a left and go to the right. Hoseok is chasing you towards the net but he’s too late when you accelerate and jump up to do a slam dunk. Holding your grip on the rim for a few more seconds, you finally let go and effortlessly fall back onto your feet.

“Studying abroad really made you better,” Hoseok says out of breath. “I can’t even keep up with your pace. But when I do get the ball, you’re already snatching it away from me.”

You smile. “It’s just practice.”

“And obviously skill. I’m surprised you’re this good after only two years.”

You laugh, turning around to head to the bench where your practice bag was. It was getting late, the sky was no longer bright and the Moon had taken over for the night. As you open up your bag, you pull out your bottle of water and chug down what you had left. Glancing up at the stars, you smile.

“Hey, Hoseok, the stars look beautiful tonight—” As your eyes look away from the beautiful night sky, your eyes meet a pair of familiar ones. 

Jungkook was standing a few metres away. Your voice slowly trails off into a soft whisper, and you can’t help but stare at him. But as you’re about to wave at him—

“Jeon Jungkook, nice seeing you here.”

Hoseok throws his arm over your shoulder. Jungkook shoves his hands into his pockets and flashes a small smile. “Hey, I was just going out for a… late-night stroll.”

There was something about him that you admired. His demeanor. He was the same shy guy, hesitant with his actions and awkward with his conversations. He was always looking at others with his curious, doe eyes. But he had matured, his facial features more prominent than the last time you saw them. He had gotten much taller, in fact, much more taller than you.

His eyes meet yours. He flashes a wider smile. “Hi Y/N. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you too,” you mumble softly, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“We should hang out sometime before you go back to America.” He insists. “It’d be a shame if we parted ways again.”

Hoseok laughs.

“I think you’re getting something wrong here, Jungkook. Y/N is staying here for good.”

“You’re not Eunbi.”

You’ve come face to face with a girl much shorter than you. Her eyes are wide, and she looks up at you through the eye holes of her face mask. Biting your lip to contain your laughter, she tries to utter a few simple words so that her face mask wouldn’t fall off her face.

“I’m a close friend of Eunbi’s. She knows that I’m coming over, but I didn’t know I’d be arrive here first.” You explain and she nods her head. “May I come in?”

She nods her head vigorously and almost crashes into the closet door while making room for you to come in. As you hesitantly walk into the dorm, you could see her roommate run into the washroom and slam the door shut. Surprisingly, you let out a huff of breath that you had no idea you’d been holding the entire time. When you sit down on their small couch, you watch her roommate slowly come out of the washroom and hesitantly approach you.

“Are you… Y/N?” She asks, putting on her glasses.

You nod your head. “Yes?”

“Eunbi is right.” She says, quickly taking a seat next to you. “You’re much prettier in person, and your skin… what’s your skincare routine? Your skin is so clear and soft and—”

“Uh—I don’t think I got your name,” you cut her off and she clamps her mouth shut.

“I’m—my name is Inha.” She smiles.

“Nice to meet you, Inha.”

“And I am very much honoured to meet you, Y/N.” She squeals. You smile awkwardly, and her laughter dies down. “Are the rumours true?”

“What rumours?”

“You don’t know what everyone is saying about you?” She gasps. “I mean, they’re all really nice stuff, so don’t worry.”

“Nice stuff? I’m so lost—”

“Is it true that you and Jungkook are dating?” She whispers, as if there were people next door pressing their ears against the walls to eavesdrop. “Is it true that you guys had a fling or something two summers ago?”

You laugh. “Where are you getting this information?”

“People are talking about how you and Jungkook know each other,” she explains, “but trust me, they’re all good stuff! In fact, I personally think the two of you should date… you suit each other.”

“I—what—”

“Yah, yah, yah, that’s enough, Inha.” The two of you glance at Eunbi who’s just arrived with a pizza tray and a bag filled with drinks.

“S-Sorry.” Inha mumbles softly.

The three of you head over towards the small dining table set up in the tiny kitchen. Eunbi was never really close to her parents, simply because she didn’t pursue their dreams. Because she decided to pursue her dreams, they had decided to kick her out. And thus, she now lives in a shared dorm with Inha.

As the three of you are huddled around the pizza tray with pizza slices in your hands, Eunbi stares at Inha suspiciously. After two years of living together, you’d think that they’d be the best of friends. Hell, they’ve been paired up to be roommates by the Faculty because their personalities suit each other. But you had never expected this to be the turn out.

Eunbi takes a swig of her soft drink and clears her throat. “For the record, I think you and Jungkook suit each other too.”

You’re close to choking on your pizza. Inha’s too busy trying to finish what she’s chewing and by the time she swallows her food, she bursts out into exclamations of joy. “Finally, we have something to agree on!”

“Have you seen how Jungkook stared at you yesterday? He looked like a deer in the headlights.”

“Are you serious?” Inha whispers loudly.

“I think you guys are just overthinking and overseeing it.” You roll your eyes.

“Come on, I’m sure that crush of yours on Jungkook is still thriving within you—”

“No, it isn’t—” You argue back at Eunbi who has a playful smirk spread across her lips. As you slowly get up to avoid the conversation, you’re immediately pulled back to your chair by Inha.

Inha glances at you bewilderedly. “You had a crush on Jungkook?!”

“Yah, Inha.” Eunbi nods her head at her. “Whatever is said in this dorm, stays in the dorm. If I ever hear that you started spreading all of this to the whole campus, you’re sleeping out in the hallway for the rest of the year. Got it?”

You sigh frustratingly. “This is not going to end well.”

“Oh, it sure will.”

“Agh,” you suddenly groan, clutching your stomach. “Where did you get that pizza?”

Eunbi frowns. She stares at you for a few seconds while Inha is too busy trying to finish the pizza in her hand to grab the last one in the tray. You glance at her for a split second before blurting out another groan.

“I got it from the pizza shop across the road. What’s wrong?”

“I—wow, it’s not making me feel too good—I should... I should go.” You groan, bending over and smiling to yourself when you notice that the both of them are buying your act. “I’ll see you guys later, yeah?”

“Wait—Y/N!”

“See ya!”

You leave her dorm and slam the door shut. Letting out a soft sigh, you run a hand through your hair. From inside her dorm, you could hear Eunbi taking a few footsteps to the door and you don’t hesitate to make a run for the elevator. Luckily, before she could catch you, you’re already hopping onto the elevator. You’re out of breath, but you don’t notice the person standing on the other side of the elevator.

He clears his throat. “Y-Y/N?”

You shoot up, wide-eyed and startled to see Jungkook looking at you with the same expression. He’s the first one to flash you a small smile before you come back to your senses. Snapping out of your gaze, you play it off by returning a soft grin.

“Hey, Jungkook, didn’t see you there.” You chuckle, pressing the button leading to the ground floor. “What brings you here on this elevator on a late evening?”

“I was planning on going for a run around the track before hitting the books,” he shrugs his shoulders. You notice how he’s flat out avoiding eye-contact. “I can’t seem to focus. You?”

You shove your hands into your pockets. “I’m currently caught up on my readings, I just finished hanging out with Eunbi and her roommate, so I think I’ll head home.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. You take his silence as a sign to just shut up. Instead, you settle on fiddling with the ends of your sleeves, until you hear him clear his throat.

“Uh—would you like to—uh, would you like to go for a jog, or something? I can walk you home uh—right after since it’s getting late.” He stammers, and when you looked away from him, he can’t help but wince at how ridiculous he sounded.

You nod your head. “Sure, I have nothing better to do anyways.”

“R-Really?” He stutters. He didn’t expect you to say yes.

You laugh, and he feels his heart flutter at the beautiful sound. “Really.”

The elevator erupts a soft ‘ding!’ and the doors open to the ground floor. The both of you exit the building, walking side by side. You could sense that Jungkook was sort of awkward around you, for he had left a small distance between the two of you. He was quite timid and soft-spoken, and he was very hesitant with his words. But you didn’t mind at all, because you felt awkward around him too. There was something keeping you from starting a conversation, and you weren’t sure if it was the unsteadiness of your heart, or because you were just flat out shy too.

“You know, you’re literally being talked about all over campus.” He finally breaks the silence. You raise an eyebrow at him and he starts to internally panic. “I mean—not that it’s a bad thing—the things I’ve heard have been nice things.”

“Eunbi and her roommate were literally just talking to me about it.” You say softly. “I’m just worried that those things that they say and spread about me could suddenly transform into horrible things.”

He frowns. “If that happens, then they should be scared of what’s about to come at them.”

“What do you mean?” You question confusedly.

“I’ll give them a piece of my mind,” he shrugs his shoulders.

You gaze up at him, a smile beginning to spread across your lips. “T-Thanks, Jungkook.”

“Don’t worry, I got you.” He says reassuringly.

“Hey, I’m not the only one that’s being talked about all over campus.” You purse your lips into a tight line. “You too, Jungkook.”

“Me?” You hum in reply.

“You and Mina, specifically. I had no idea you guys had a thing going on,” you fake a grin.

He stares at you for a couple of seconds before bursting out into laughter. You glance at him, eyebrows raised, surprised at how he’s laughing so hard. He was literally quiet two seconds ago, and here he was, clenching his stomach and throwing a laughing fit right in front of you.

“Mina and I,” he says in between laughs, “we’re not together. We could never be together. I don’t see her that way… she’s not even my type.”

“Oh?”

“Disappointed?” He asks and you quickly shake your head.

“No!” You blurt out only to feel your cheeks fluster. “Uh—I mean—you guys look good together—so when people talked about the two of you being together, I sort of… believed it. But only because it seemed real!”

Jungkook was afraid that you could hear how loud his heart was beating. Your cheeks were flushed a light shade of red out of embarrassment, and he couldn’t help but stare at you a bit longer than he should. When he notices that you awkwardly look away from him, he snaps out of his trance.

“So, you’re not disappointed?” He teases. He’s surprised at his current behaviour. What is he saying? Where are these words coming from? Since when did he get so flirty?

“I—uh—” You stammer.

He chuckles, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “Good. I wasn’t interested in her anyways. I’ve been waiting for someone else.”

You find yourself looking at how bright his smile was. There was a certain charm that Jungkook had, and back in the day, you had fallen victim to it. But you’re not surprised that even now, you’re still a victim of his charms. There was something about him that you couldn’t move on from, and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Y/N?”

You snap out of your thoughts to see Jungkook already standing a metre away from you. He’s jogging on the spot, looking at you questioningly. “Are you not going to jog with me?”

“Oh—right!” You exclaim, jogging up to him.

Jungkook falls back onto his bed in a daze. Taehyung tears his gaze away from his laptop, turning around to glance at him. Jungkook’s staring up at the stars plastered on his ceiling, and Taehyung can’t help but smile at how stupidly in love he looked.

As he turns back around to finish his essay, he pulls out his phone and sends a quick text.

to: eunbi (10:23 PM) he’s so whipped for her. [img_1092]

As you run to your lecture room with a banana in one hand and a water bottle in the other, your eyes scan the room numbers to spot for yours. Just as you spot your room, you bump into a figure causing your banana and water bottle to fall to the floor. As you bend down to pick up your things, you bump your heads with the stranger.

“Oh! Sorry—” You exclaim, and it’s almost as if you had gobbled up your words. Looking right at you is a very… handsome guy. He laughs softly, rubbing at his forehead before getting back onto his feet. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“Oh, it’s no big deal. Are you okay, though?” He questions.

“Ah, yeah, I’m okay. How about you?” You ask, completely embarrassed. He nods and flashes you a reassuring smile. “Sorry, I have to get going, I’m late for class.”

He watches you as you give him one small smile before heading to the same lecture room he’s in. He tilts his head to the side in confusion, he has never seen you before. But something urges him to catch up to you, and he does.

“Oh—wait!” He says a bit too loudly. It catches your attention, and you stop abruptly with your hand on the doorknob. You turn over your shoulder with an eyebrow raised questioningly.

“Y-Yes?” You mumble.

“I’m in this class too! Biochemistry, right?” He smiles. You slowly nod your head. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, but let’s be friends, shall we? I’m Joohyuk.”

You blink, thoughts completely blank. Who did this guy think he was? You bow at him and give him one of your timid smiles. “I’m Y/N. It’s my first day in this class and I’m already running late, but it’s okay. Shall we head to class together?”

He nods his head in reply. As the both of you head into the class, the professor flashes you a harsh gaze before continuing his lecture. You’re scurrying to an empty seat that you spot near the middle of the lecture room. At the same time, you could hear Joohyuk following behind you. Just as you reach your seat, coincidentally, the seat next to yours was empty. Slowly turning around to find Joohyuk, you raise your eyebrows in surprise, for he was right behind you, heading for the seat next to yours.

“It’s a coincidence these two seats are empty, don’t you think?” He questions, and you let out a soft chuckle.

Your soft laugh dies down, however, when everyone around you seems to take note of your presence. Everyone’s whispering to each other, and you can’t help but feel yourself sink into your seat. Your gaze looks down your row of seats, and you could only confirm that everyone’s talking about you by the fact that they’re taking a quick glance at you before continuing to whisper to the person next to them.

Your heartbeat starts to quicken. Your breath is caught in your throat. This feeling of insecurity, vulnerability, and self-doubt had been absent since you studied abroad. However, you had never thought these feelings would come back. You hate attention, whether it was good or bad, because you didn’t want people talking about you. But you can’t stop people from doing it, and neither could you stop yourself from feeling insecure about the idea of them saying bad things about you behind your back.

Joohyuk, on the other hand, seems to notice how you’ve grown tense from the atmosphere. He notices how people are whispering to others, how they glance at you, and it leaves him curious. But he feels as if he’s somehow become part of the reason as to why people are looking at you, whispering about you. He notices that your breathing quickens, and he grows a bit nervous and anxious.

You’re too focused on calming down your breathing. You’re too absorbed by the sounds of whispers. You’re tapping your feet against the floor, hoping that it would help you focus on the lecture. But your breathing starts to quicken, and you’re afraid that—

“Hey, are you okay?” You feel a warm hand being placed on top of yours, and to your surprise, you calm down. Joohyuk glances at you with concern. “Do you need water?”

You let out a soft sigh, your body relaxing. “I’m okay, just anxious. Thanks.”

He flashes you a reassuring smile before fixing his gaze on the screen. A small smile starts creeping up on your face. Somehow, all of your worries fade away. Your growing anxiety and your growing pains scurry away.

And the warmth of his hand never seems to go away.

Class ends on the dot, and you’re already scurrying to get out of the lecture hall. Everyone’s taking their time, while you’re trying to squeeze your way through the aisles towards the exit. The whispering doesn’t seem to stop, and you know you’ll hate yourself forever if you decide to listen to what is being said.

Joohyuk watches you amusedly. You’re too occupied by your thoughts, and you were muttering things underneath your breath. As he just finished packing his things, he finds you already at the exit of the lecture hall. He tilts his head in confusion. He squints his eyes in suspicion when he hears the whispering yet again.

“Joohyuk’s so handsome…”

“I know, right?! She’s so pretty too… don’t you think they look good together?”

“I think they’ll be the couple of the campus, it must be fate that they both came to class late.”

“Yeah! They even ended up sitting together, what kind of coincidence would that be? I think it’s fate.”

Joohyuk purses his lips into a tight line. He starts to feel guilty, wondering if you had felt uncomfortable throughout the whole lecture because of everyone around you.

“Hey, but what about Jeon Jungkook? Isn’t he interested in her?”

“I thought he was dating Mina.”

“Yeah, me too!”

He shrugs off his thoughts, throwing his bag over his shoulder as he heads out of the lecture hall.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as Eunbi continues to belt out into fits of laughter. Her roommate, Inha, went back home to spend the weekend with her parents, leaving Eunbi all alone for once. Eunbi’s laughter echoes throughout the dorm, and you can’t help but look at her ridiculously.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Do you know who Joohyuk is?” She questions. You shake your head. “I can’t believe it! I really can’t.”

“Just tell me!”

“Joohyuk. Nam Joohyuk. He’s the top student, he has been on the Dean’s list for two consecutive years – and counting! On top of that, he’s on the swim team and never loses.” She explains, and your mouth slowly falls open at each fact. “You could tell the heavens took up so much time trying to build a perfect man like him. He not only has the looks, he has the brain of Einstein too.”

You groan, shoving your face into her pillow. Eunbi begins to giggle. “Are you kidding me? I literally embarrassed myself in front of him?! Please, just shoot me.”

“But listen,” she whispers, “he’s single.”

“So, what—”

“You didn’t let me finish!” She exclaims. “He’s single and ready-to-mingle.”

You frown. “And he’s definitely not going to be mingling with me, because I won’t mingle with him.”

“Stop being such a party pooper! I’m sure he’s interested in you,” she wiggles her eyebrows. “On the plus side, I think fate has all the reasons to explain why you both ended up in seats next to each other after showing up late to lecture.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not going to let the event of coincidentally sitting next to him determine my fate.”

“But that’s how I met Taehyung.”

“You’re the only exception.”

Eunbi sighs and falls back against her bed. As the both of you lay next to each other, she props herself up to look at you. You’re completely absorbed in your own thoughts, and you can’t help but feel bothered. There was no doubt that what had happened earlier between you and Joohyuk would soon enough be spread across campus. It makes you let out a frustrated groan, and you rub at your temples. 

“Everyone’s definitely going to be talking about it tomorrow, huh?” Eunbi grins at you.

“Of course.” Her grin suddenly falters. “But be careful. Words can be twisted up.”

Mina walks down the hallway as she heads to her next lecture, and she notices the eruption of whispers. Her ears perk up out of curiosity, but she’s surprised that she’s not hearing her name being the subject of conversation. Y/N. She purses her lips into a tight line and shrugs it off, entering the lecture auditorium to see none other than—

“Y/N,” she sees you seated a few rows up and flashes you a smile. The auditorium was still empty, the seat still unoccupied except for yours. “Nice to see you here.”

At the sight of Mina, you could feel your body tense up. There were gears turning in her head, and you knew that she was planning something. You prove your thoughts correct when she starts heading up to your row to sit right next to you, of all seats. As she grabs her things out of her backpack, she gives you a glance.

“Are you uncomfortable with me sitting next to you?” She questions and you shake your head. 

“Not at all,” you reply softly. She grins.

“Great,” she closes her bag. “Because you’re the only person I know in this class.”

Of course I’m the only person you know. You almost ruined my life. You thought to yourself as you try to make yourself look busy by finishing one of your assignments due this week. Mina clears her throat and it prompts you to give her a side glance.

“Did you know you’re being talked about all over campus?” She asks. “Must be nice to have people talking about you. But don’t worry about what they say, they’ve all been nice things.”

You nod your head to acknowledge her, before returning to your task. The auditorium slowly fills up with fellow peers, who don’t take long to realize that you and Mina are sitting right next to each other. It makes you feel uncomfortable. The whispers come back again.

Once the auditorium is finally full before the start of lecture, Mina looks at you again. “The things they say about you might be nice for now, but if I were you, I’d watch out. Nice things could turn into backstabbing rumours.”

You gulp nervously. She smiles at you, and you’re not sure whether she’s faking it or whether she’s just doing it to irritate you. “But let’s hope that never happens to you, alright?”

“I can’t believe you’re majoring in biochemistry.”

Hoseok huffs out, leaning back in his chair. The two of you are spending your afternoon in the library, catching up on weekly readings and assignments. There was one week left until reading week, where all the students had the opportunity to catch up on their readings. You raise an eyebrow at him before flipping to the next page of your textbook.

He leans in, whispering, “Eunbi told me about Joohyuk.”

“And?” You question, looking completely unfazed.

“There’s something you should know about Joohyuk…” He trails. “And Jungkook.”

“They’re best buddies, aren’t they?” He shakes his head and you frown.

“Well, you see, Jungkook and Joohyuk have always been rivals. Joohyuk is practically the perfect guy you could ever dream of. In first year, he attended the football team tryouts, and he passed with flying colours.”

“And where does Jungkook come in?” 

Hoseok dismays. “Jungkook also passed with flying colours. Both of them were on the same team, but it was almost like they weren’t teammates. They were like rivals, and it was all due to two reasons.”

“But Joohyuk’s on the swimming team?” You laugh, completely confused. 

“That’s the thing,” Hoseok mumbles. “Reason number one, Joohyuk was so whipped for Mina, who was whipped—and still is—for Jungkook.”

“And reason number two?” It’s too much for you to handle that you’re afraid that the second reason is much more worse than the first.

“Jungkook was the reason why Joohyuk was kicked out of the football team. This explains why he’s on the swimming team now.”

“What did Jungkook do?” Hoseok shrugs his shoulders in reply. 

You close your textbook and rub your temples. Hoseok’s revelation and the words in your textbook were both screaming at you to take a break, maybe think and worry about something else for once. But you can’t help but imagine Jungkook and Joohyuk as enemies, two of the most talked about students on campus. And now… you’re somewhat in the middle of it, which is probably why everyone’s talking about you.

“I’d be extra careful if I were you,” he suggests, “the moment Joohyuk finds out you’re connected to Jungkook in some sort of way, he’ll use you in his power to ruin Jungkook.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m sure Joohyuk isn’t that petty and bad to use me to ruin his enemy.”

Hoseok places his hands on top of yours. “Sweetheart, trust me, I’ve seen the two of them brawl, and it’s not the prettiest sight. And it definitely won’t be much prettier if the person they brawl over… is you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Y/N.” Hoseok waves as the both of you head back home.

You’re walking in the opposite direction as he is, and you plan on making a quick stop at the convenience store to grab some cup noodles. Since it’s almost midterm season, and that only meant that your fridge will soon be empty and your cabinets will soon be filled with cup noodles. It was university at its finest.

You come across the convenience store near your place, and you step in, your feet absent-mindedly dragging you to the cup noodle section. There was a huge variety of cup noodles that you could probably spent at least half an hour trying to pick one that suits your taste. But knowing you, you were on a crunch of time—study time to be exact—and here you were, grabbing anything your hand comes into contact with, and placing it in your basket. 

Once your basket is almost filled with at least a dozen cup noodles, you find yourself at the checkout desk with your eyes squinted at the total. You pull out a few bills and hand it to the cashier, receiving your change in return.

“Thanks,” you smile and begin to head out the convenience store. 

As you step out of the store, you immediately stop in your tracks when you hear the heavy pitter-patter of rain hitting against the concrete. You rummage through your backpack in search of an umbrella, but frown when you realize that you’ve left it at home. The weather forecast proclaimed a beautiful day and a cloudy afternoon, but you guess you could never trust anything at this point anymore.

Sighing to yourself, you decide to make a run for it. Besides, you didn’t live far from the convenience store. Just as you’re about to make a sprint, you hear your name being called. Standing a few metres away is Joohyuk, his umbrella shielding him from the rain as he makes his way towards you.

“Joohyuk, hey,” you smile softly. 

“What are you doing out here in the rain?” He questions, but he seems to answer his own question when he notices the bag of cup noodles in your hands. “Ah, I see. Are you headed home?”

“Yeah, but unfortunately I forgot my umbrella.” You laugh sheepishly, “I was honestly about to make a run for it. I don’t live quite far from here.”

“You live in this neighbourhood?” He asks and you nod your head. “Really? How come I’ve never seen you around? I live here too.”

“You’ve never seen me around because I’ve been studying abroad last year.” You laugh, and he gestures you to walk with him. “Oh, no, I’m good. I don’t live that far!”

“I don’t want you getting sick,” he argues cutely. “We live in the same neighbourhood, let’s just go home together.”

He takes your silence as permission and the both of you are now walking through the neighbourhood. He glances down at you every now and then, and you notice it. You’re too shy and awkward to start a conversation, for this was one of your weaknesses. Being a complete introvert made it extra difficult for you to make any sort of conversation with someone you barely even knew.

“I heard you’re best friends with Jungkook,” he begins and you gulp nervously, recalling the conversation you and Hoseok had earlier. 

You hum in reply. “Yeah, we went to the same elementary and high school. We’ve been friends for a long time.”

He smiles, and you look up at him. “I used to be on the football team with him, actually.”

“Really?” You try to act surprised.

“Really.” He laughs. “I’m surprised Jungkook never told you. I would have assumed he had already told you, since both of you are close.” 

“Oh, no, here’s the thing,” you explain. “Jungkook and I have been friends throughout elementary and high school. When we both went to university, we haven’t spoken to each other for about a year.”

“Ah, I see.” He nods his head, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, a lot can happen in one year, I guess.”

You nod your head in agreement. “I don’t want to be a bit nosy but, what made you switch to the swim team?”

You watch his smile falter. He plays it off by letting out a small laugh. “I guess a certain football teammate and I had some sort of fallout over a girl. Honestly, looking back at it, it seems extremely ridiculous.”

“A girl?” You question. He nods and you sigh. “I guess a lot of things do happen in one year.”

The two of you look at each other before bursting out into laughter. You finally reach your place, and you gobble up your words when he ruffles your hair. His eyes trail down to meet yours, and you swear he stares at you much longer than needed. You’re the first to look away and his cheeks flush a slight hint of pink.

“Uh, I’ll see you tomorrow in class, I guess.” He clears his throat. You look at him, is he nervous? 

He leans down to peck a gentle kiss on your cheek and your eyes slightly widen. You bite your lip, your feet glued to the ground. What was going on? Why was your heart beating so fast? Why couldn’t you say a word? 

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Hoseok, do you mind passing me a face towel?”

Hoseok goes through your bag and pulls out a towel. He tosses it to you and you wipe down the sweat from your face. As Hoseok starts going through his bag, he furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “I swear I brought my water bottle, where is it?”

“You’ve been quite out of it since this morning, Hoseok.” You chuckle. “Maybe you left it at home?”

“Ugh, you’re right. I think I am out of it.” He pulls out his wallet to take out a few bills. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go to the convenience store to get some water.”

You smile. “No worries. I’ll be right here.”

As Hoseok leaves you out on the basketball court all alone, you decide to fix up your layups. It’s been a couple weeks since you had an actual one-on-one basketball game, and you were getting pretty rusty with your footwork. You loosen up your legs and your ankles before beginning to dribble down the court. 

As you get near the 3-point mark, you dribble the ball a couple of times before making a shot. The shot goes in clean, an immediate swish, and you smile to yourself. From afar, you could hear someone clapping. You look over your shoulder to see Jungkook leaning against the lamp post.

“Jungkook, nice to see you.” You smile and Jungkook pushes himself off of the lamp post. 

“Went out for a jog,” he mumbles softly. “But I could definitely use up a quick basketball session.”

The both of you meet halfway through the court. This oddly feels familiar to you. 

“One on one?” He smirks.

“Sure.” You grin as you toss the ball at him, almost a bit too forcefully. The ball hits him in the chest and he groans in pain. You gasp softly. “Sorry!”

“Someone’s competitive,” he laughs. 

There’s no denying that you feel butterflies in your stomach or how you feel your heart leaping for joy. There’s that same feeling of nostalgia that you miss so terribly. 

Jungkook begins to charge towards the free-throw line. You take notice of how Jungkook’s surprisingly improved since the last time you played basketball with him. He dribbles the ball between his legs, almost as if he’s trying to distract you. You smirk, snatching the ball from him mid-dribble, passing the ball through his legs. You pick up the ball from behind him and begin charging towards the hoop. Throwing the ball up, you toss it into the hoop and it goes in clean.

You shrug your shoulders. “Zero-one.”

“I should step up my game, huh?” He teases. “It’s the only way I could impress you.”

You retrieve the basketball and begin dribbling it back outside of the three-point line. Jungkook starts to approach you, and you start using his method of distraction by dribbling the ball in between your legs. He tries to snatch the ball away from you, but he misses every time. 

You move side by side, and you decide to fake a left. But as you fake a left and begin to move right, Jungkook stumbles on his untied shoelaces and falls to the ground. You completely forget about the basketball in your hands and check up on him. 

He’s laughing cutely as you bend over. You tilt your head. “Are you okay?”

Jungkook opens his eyes to see you looking at him with concern. He feels his heart soften at the sight. He forgets the fact that he’s stopped laughing at himself. “Mind helping me up?”

You hold out your hand for him. He grabs it and pulls you down. You let out a soft yelp. The both of you lie down, back against the concrete. You glance at him to find him already staring at you. 

“Helping you up doesn’t exactly mean pulling me down with you.” You tease.

The both of you burst out into laughter.

Joohyuk parks his car and lets out a tiring sigh. As he pulls out his gym bag from the trunk of his car, he hears faint laughter from a distance. The laughter had seemed to be from two people, and one laugh sounded oddly familiar. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

He starts walking down the jogging path. As he walks closer to the sound of laughter, he sees a basketball court. There are two people versing each other on the basketball court. He sees a familiar figure dribbling the ball and tossing it into the hoop.

As he walks closer towards the basketball court, he realizes that it’s you. He smiles. Heading towards the court, he sees another figure lying down on the ground, grabbing your hand and pulling you down with them.

He squints his eyes. “Look what we have here…”

It doesn’t take quite long for his legs to drag him all the way to the basketball court. The closer he gets, the louder the sounds of your laugh gets. He arrives at the basketball court and stops a couple of metres away.

He clears his throat. “I was wondering who was out here at this time of night.”

You and Jungkook slowly get up, glancing at whoever was speaking to them. When you had realized it was Joohyuk, you flash him a small smile. “Joohyuk, nice seeing you here.”

Jungkook glances at you then at Joohyuk. Joohyuk eyes the both of you before shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweater. As the both of you are having a conversation, Jungkook can’t help but feel out of place. It was like he was invisible, and no matter what, he hated feeling left out. But it was almost as if you had heard his thoughts because you patted his shoulder, catching his attention. You look at him questioningly and he gives you a reassuring look.

“I have yet to go out on my night jog, so I guess I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” Joohyuk insists and you nod in reply. “I’ll save you a seat, as always.”

Once Joohyuk’s out of sight, Jungkook gets up onto his feet and offers you a hand. You grab his hand and he pulls you back up onto your feet. As you dust off your pants, the both of you decide to head back. 

After a couple of minutes of walking in silence, Jungkook asks, “you’re in his class?”

You hum in reply. “Yeah. I met him on my first day of class, actually. He seems pretty nice, he’s been saving seats for me ever since.”

“That’s nice of him,” he mumbles softly. “We used to be best friends, actually.”

You purse your lips into a line. Jungkook seems to be deep in thought and reflection, as if he’s reminiscing the past. You can’t help but look up at him as the both of you walk together. Jungkook glances down at you and it prompts you to look away. He smiles because although you reply with silence, it’s the type of silence where someone just knows. 

He’s hesitant to ask you something, but when you look up at him again, he decides that it’s better to find out. “Do you… like him?”

Curious, you ask him, “what makes you ask that?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “It looks like he likes you.”

You bite your lip. Joohyuk was a sudden change of current, attempting to sway your boat filled with feelings for someone else. He was simply someone who came into your life in the most unexpected way. And although he makes you feel warm, you weren’t sure whether that was enough to determine if you romantically liked him or not. 

“I like him,” you nod your head, and Jungkook looks at you hopelessly. “But only as a friend.”

Right when those words come out of your mouth, snowflakes start falling from the sky. Excited, you look up at the sky to watch the snowflakes fall down. Jungkook sighs with relief, but he finds himself falling into a trance when he looks at you. You catch some snowflakes in your hands, and you watch them melt away. Suddenly, you feel something warm and soft being wrapped around you. Looking up, you watch Jungkook as he wraps his scarf around your neck.

You could feel your heart combusting and your cheeks heating up. He adjusts the scarf before pulling away and giving you a soft smile. “It’s getting cold.”

If you could remember one thing from this beautiful night, it would be how you realized that your feelings for Jungkook have never faded away. Unlike the snowflakes falling from the sky, your feelings for Jungkook had never disappeared in an instant. In fact, they had grown stronger.

That night, Jungkook pulls up an old undelivered text message. 

(11:07 pm - July 2017) jk: hey y/n. that day at grad, what i really wanted to tell you was that i like you. a lot. and i was wondering if you’ve been feeling how i’ve been feeling whenever we hang out. there’s just something indescribable that i feel whenever i’m with you and only you and i’m sort of terrified but at the same time i feel… safe. and at peace.

It’s been two years since that text message, and everything remains the same. The only difference is that Jungkook knows that he’s not terrified of the fall, and he is more than sure that the feelings he has for you won’t ever change. 

Jungkook loves being lowkey about his strong feelings for you. Although his definition of lowkey doesn’t necessarily mean or seem lowkey to his close friends, you somehow are oblivious of it all. But he’s not sure whether he should keep things lowkey anymore when there’s another guy coming into the picture.

And that guy happens to be Joohyuk.

author’s note: i hope you like this early christmas gift! i know this was long overdue but i knew that i had to get it done somehow. let me know what you think! hmu :-) i love making new friends!

[sephirotha]

Can you do one where Jaehee x zen are in the Cinderella story with glam being the stepmother, and echo and Sarah being the step sisters ?

“Kyungju, you need more colour in your cheeks,” Glam sighed as she pinched her younger daughter’s cheek and handed her some blush.

“Yes, mother!” Kyungju nodded as she turned to the vanity and began applying it.

“Sarah, curl your hair!”

“Eh?!” Glam’s older daughter looked aghast.  “But straight hair suits me so well!”

“Do as I say,” Glam snapped her fingers.  “I will not suffer further embarrassment after the spectacle you pulled at Jumin’s party!”  She sighed and shook her head.  “Passed over for a plain commoner.  Shameful!”

Sarah pouted and folded her arms.  “Jaehee!  Jaehee, where are my curlers?!”  After a few moments, Jaehee stumbled into the bedroom with curlers.  “Lazy girl!  What took you so long?!”

“I…”

“Oh, never mind.”  Sarah pushed Kyungju out of the way so she could sit at the vanity.  “Curl my hair.”

Jaehee heaved a tired sigh as she stood behind Sarah to curl her hair.

“That’s not fair!” Kyungju whined and stomped her foot.  “Jaehee, I need my hair ribbons to put into bunches!”

“No she doesn’t,” Glam said snappily.  “She needs the pearl barrette we got the other week.  Come now, dear, you aren’t fifteen anymore.  You need to let your hair loose.”

“Then where is my barrette?!”

Jaehee leaned past Sarah to grab the barrette on the vanity counter and handed it to Kyungju.

“But that’s mine!” Sarah whined.

“You’re having the diamond one, Sarah,” Glam said as she applied lipstick to herself.

“Wait, why can’t I wear the diamond one?!” Kyungju whined.

Jaehee sighed softly as she tuned out the voices around her, focusing on her task.

 ---

“Wash the dishes, clean the sheets, mop the floors…” Glam listed Jaehee’s chores as she ushered her daughters out the door.  “Oh.  And make sure to polish the jewellery.”  She turned to Jaehee, her lips curling up into a nasty smirk.  “My pearls, girl.”

Jaehee nodded as she took the pearl necklace off her and handed them to her stepmother.  Glam tittered as she put them on herself.

“Don’t get too comfortable.  I expect fresh baths to be drawn for my girls when we get back.  We’ll be back at either half midnight or later.  But don’t drink too much coffee, dear.  The scent is abhorrent after all.”

“Yes, of course.  Have a lovely time.”

The door slammed shut and Jaehee let out a breath.  She stumbled back and collapsed on the nearest chair. She slumped on the table and sighed tiredly.

“Maybe…just a short nap…” she murmured as she closed her eyes.

She sighed as she began drifting off to sleep.  She was disturbed with a sharp knock on the door.

She jumped to her feet and scurried across the room to answer the door.  Maybe Glam had forgotten something…

“Yes!” a cheerful voice rung out and caught her by surprise.  “It is I!  Godmother Seven Oh Seven!”

Jaehee adjusted her glasses and blinked blearily at her crossdressing acquaintance.  He stood there in a sparkling white and blue tutu, complete with large, glittery wire butterfly wings and a shiny foil wand with a star.

She blinked owlishly.  “…Not tonight.”  She closed the door in his face.

“Ah, Jaehee!  Wait!” Jaehee sighed softly as Saeyoung began knocking on the door frantically.  “I mean it!  Yoosung’s just coming with your dress and wig, he’s just running a little late!”

“A wig?  Why would I need a wig…?”

“Driver Kim is here too, ready to spirit you away to a well earned night of fun and revelry!”

“Luciel, I have chores to do…”

“Which is why Yoosung and I will do them for you!”

“Eh?!” Yoosung’s voice chimed in.  “Seven, you didn’t say such a thing…”

Jaehee sighed as she opened the door.  “Luciel, this is thoughtful really it is but…”

“But, Jaehee, you’re one of Zen’s biggest fans,” Yoosung said as Saeyoung strode into the house.

“I’m fine with not going,” Jaehee sighed as she let Yoosung in.

“You work too hard,” Saeyoung said as he set the wand down and looked around with a thoughtful expression.  “Hm, I see.  Anyway, MC personally picked this dress out for you.  You wouldn’t want to disappoint her, would you?”

Jaehee looked flustered as Yoosung took the silver dress out of its bag and showed it to her.  “It is…beautiful…”

“Just try it on.  We even have comfortable shoes for you.”

Yoosung fumbled around and pulled some stockings and plimsols that matched the colour of the dress.  Jaehee sighed as she conceded and took the dress off Yoosung.

“Don’t forget the wig!”

“Why do I need a wig?” Jaehee frowned as she took the long brown wig off Yoosung.

“Well, you wouldn’t want to be recognised by your step-family, would you?”  Saeyoung smiled.  “Go ahead. I’ll help brush the wig when you come out.”

Jaehee smiled shyly as she nodded and went into her bedroom to change.

 ---

“Oh, Jaehee,” Yoosung gasped as Jaehee came down in the dress. “You look beautiful.”

Jaehee fiddled with one of the locks of the wig shyly.  “You think so?”

“Of course he does,” Saeyoung scoffed before tottering over to her. “Just one last thing.”  He plucked Jaehee’s glasses off her face and nodded. “Now just let me do your makeup.”

“You know how to apply makeup?” Jaehee said as she was sat down.

Saeyoung pulled a large makeup kit bag out of seemingly nowhere. “Jaehee.  Every cosplayer is always prepared with makeup for every occasion.”  He tipped the bag upside down to reveal lipsticks, mascara, blush, foundation, eyeshadow and even some face paints.

“Oh my, this is more than what Sarah has,” Jaehee muttered as she picked up a lipstick.  “…This is better than what Sarah has.”

“Of course,” Saeyoung grinned as his hand hovered over the pile carefully.  “Yoosung, be a dear and start on the dishes.  After we send Jaehee off, we need to work together with cleaning the sheets.”

“Right!” Yoosung nodded as he made his way to the kitchen.

 ---

Jaehee rolled her eyes as Saeyoung dabbed his eyes whilst waving her off at the door.

“My baby Jaehee is all grown up,” he wailed.

“I’m older than you…”

“My sweet baby Jaehee…”

“Have fun!” Yoosung called as Jaehee stepped into the limo.

“I’ll try to be back for midnight!”

“You stay as long as you like!” Saeyoung called as he waved to her. “Don’t stress!  Fun never has a deadline for its end!”

“That’s what you think,” Jaehee sighed as she sat back and was driven away.

 ---

Jaehee was hesitant to step out of the limo.  There were so many people around the nightclub where the party was being held, wearing shorter dresses than her, flashing their long nails and jewellery, clicking around in their high heels.  They all stood behind a velvet rope in a queue.

She was going to stick out like a sore thumb…

“Miss Kang?”  Jaehee turned to the driver.  “Is everything alright?”

“I’m just…nervous.”

Driver Kim smiled at her reassuringly through the rear-view mirror.  “I understand.  Would you like me to circle round for you to calm down a bit?”

“No, no, I’ll get out now.  Thank you.”

“Oh.  One more thing, before I forget.”  Kim leaned across the passenger seat and opened the glove compartment.  He pulled out a gilded envelope and handed it to her. “Give this to the bouncer at the front of the queue.”

Jaehee nodded as she accepted the envelope and looked at the golden letters that spelled her name out in a cursive font.  With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped out of the limo. Her blush deepened as several eyes landed on her and she lowered her gaze, slowly making her way to the bouncer at the front.

She presented the envelope, to which the bouncer took and opened it.  He scanned whatever its contents were before nodding.

“One moment.”

He pressed into his earwig and Jaehee fiddled with her hands nervously.  He murmured under his breath which was drowned out by the chatter of the ladies in the queue.

The door opened behind him and a smartly dressed man stepped out.

“Miss Kang?”

“Yes?”

“Right this way.”

Jaehee let out a soft breath before nodding and following him into the building, much to the displeasure of the chattering girls outside. Inside the club, there were lots of people dancing to the music, girls lining up the extravagant looking bar, snapping their fingers and fumbling with their designer brand clutches.

The man led her through to where another bouncer stood.  He paused and tilted his head, prompting Jaehee to curiously peek around him.  She covered her mouth as she spotted her stepmother and sisters in front of the bouncer, waving her hands.

“Glam Choi!” she said over the din of the nightclub music.  “Do you hear me?  I am the Glam Choi, I have performed with Zen personally, he knows who I am and so should you!”

“Not on the list, not allowed through,” the bouncer barked back, as if tired of her complaints.

“I must be on the list, check it again!”

Jaehee hesitated as her escort approached the bouncer and nodded. The bouncer stepped to the side and unclipped the velvet barrier.  Jaehee faced away from her stepfamily as they screeched about the injustice of their exclusion and hurried forward.

It was quieter as they went down the corridor, the music growing quieter as they progressed further.  They stopped at one of the doors and the man rapped his knuckles on it sharply.

“Miss Jaehee Kang.”

The door flew open and Jaehee widened her eyes as she saw MC in the doorway.  She smiled.

“Jaehee.  You came. I’m glad.”

“One cannot simply refuse an invitation from Luciel if he’s dressed as a fairy,” Jaehee remarked.

MC laughed loudly as the escort bowed and left them alone.  “Come in!  It’s good to have you here.  Zen and Jumin do not get along and I finally have a fellow fangirl to chat with.”

Jaehee smiled weakly as she stepped into the lounge.

There was faint jazz music in the background but Jaehee immediately recognised it to be from one of Zen’s first plays.  Her heart fluttered with the nostalgia as she scoured the room.  She held her breath as she spotted Zen at the bar, mixing a cocktail.

“Zenny!” MC called as she led Jaehee over.  “Zenny, this is Jaehee!”

Zen looked up and smiled at her.  “Jaehee Kang.  You are quite the celebrity.”

“I-I am?” Jaehee stuttered.

“Of course.  MC has spared no detail on your childhood.”

“MC!” Jaehee hissed and MC shrugged as she sat on one of the stools.

“Oh, you know, I couldn’t help but mention you when we were talking about his plays,” MC giggled.

“So tell me…” Zen hummed as he poured two cocktails out into glasses and added a couple of cherries into each.  “What is your favourite play?”

Jaehee looked flustered as he offered her one of the cocktails and took it with a shy look.  “…Dandelion Wishes Brought to You.”

Zen looked surprised.  “Really?!”  Jaehee nodded and he smiled.  “You’re the first fan to say that.  Oh my, that must have been a couple years ago.”

“I just think your performance as Jisoo was heart-wrenching,” Jaehee said with sparkles in her eyes.  “Your performance brought me to tears, you acted so well…”

Zen blushed and rubbed the back of his head.  “Ha.  You know, I first auditioned for the part of Jihae.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.  I’m not fond of cats so I thought I’d be more comfortable as one of the rabbit characters. Then the director decided to cast me as Jisoo instead.”

Jaehee’s heart skipped a beat at this information as she fiddled with the cherry stem and looked up at him in awe.

“Oh, I’ll be right back,” MC said as she stood.  “I’ll introduce you to Jumin later, alright?”

She patted Jaehee’s shoulder before going across the lounge to join two men, one with black hair, the other with turquoise.  Zen huffed.

“That jerk,” he muttered.  “He’s lucky to have a girl like MC.  Not that he deserves it.”  He turned back to Jaehee and sipped his cocktail.  “But enough about him.  Tell me more about yourself.”

“Oh, there isn’t that much to tell,” Jaehee said with a deep blush and looked away.

“Nonsense, MC has talked my ear off about you.  So, tell me.  Is it true that you skipped a few years in school and left poor MC in the dust with your academic success?”

Jaehee’s jaw dropped and she finally met Zen’s gaze.  “…It was just two years.  My father had given me personal tuition when I had fallen sick one summer.  He was afraid I’d fall behind if I kept being sick into the school term.  As it turns out, he was a better teacher than he gave himself credit for.”

Zen’s eyes lit up and he smiled brightly.  “So smart!  I’m so jealous.  I dropped out of school to pursue my acting career…”

“But that is admirable!  You achieved your dreams through your sacrifices!  I look up to you for that.”

Zen looked taken aback before smiling.  “Jaehee.  You’re so nice.”  He stood up straight.  “Let’s get ourselves more comfortable shall we?  I spy a couple of spots on that sofa there.”

Jaehee nodded as she picked up her glass and followed him to the plush looking sofa.  They chatted throughout most of the evening, wrapped up in their own bubble with no-one willing to pop it.  Not even midnight’s strike could pull them apart.

[thrushpot]

in utero

“So, remember those prompts... well, I got more for you. Need 13 and 31, have fun with those two. ;P” requested by @fortheloveofhargrove

#13: “I thought you were dead.”

#31: “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”

warnings: ANGST 

—

Billy clicked his tongue and sang along to some mindless catchy tune beneath his breath as he eyed the dark and lonely road ahead of him. The radio was playing something he’d never even heard of before, but he was in a mood so good, so rare that it didn’t even matter. Drives like these were his favorite, when the world would just shut the fuck up for a second and he could run away to fantasy land in peace without any unwelcome intrusions. His right foot eased the gas pedal further down, gradually accelerating in hopes to arrive at his destination early so he could surprise her once she’s off the plane. The blonde boy behind the wheel felt almost as if he’d gotten slapped in the face with nostalgia as he recalled the last conversation he’d had with her before leaving.

Goodbyes were a thing that were never not painful or unsettling. That all too familiar dread of not knowing whether it’ll be the last time he’d see her, hug her, hell; even fucking smell her. As if it happened only yesterday, the boy could still hear the girl’s soft weeping muffled in his chest, can practically feel the way her body moved up and down with each broken sob. It was difficult to see someone usually so fearless, so composed and put together, like some CIA agent from an action flick break down and curl into him for warmth and support. He let a couple (okay, maybe more than a couple) salty tears of his own fall as he held her in his lap.

Y/N had been an irreplaceable constant back in the glory days, her having never broken his trust nor the laundry list of promises she’d sworn once the heartache of his departure had blown over. It was foolish to think that even for a second he could get over the bitterness of starting all over again at some mundane public school. It was also just as foolish to think he could just forget about missing her as the weeks turned to months and the months added up to a year. But that was just another ploy the universe threw his way, seemingly enjoying Billy’s pain and suffering. Tonight though, tonight was gonna be different. He won’t let a single thing overshadow him any longer. He refused to listen to his inner tormentor deep down that laughed whenever he tried rationalizing how he would go about giving his confession, telling her his secret. As Billy goes over the script in his head, he clears his throat and adjusts the rear view mirror to himself as he practices his performance again. Real casual-like, he flashes a smile over at his reflection, pretending it’s her that’s watching.

“Y/N, lookin’ ah, looking good. Beautiful, actually. Know you already got a line of guys tellin’ you this every damn day, but I mean it when I say you somehow get prettier every time I see you. I really missed us hanging out, y’know? Takes me back to all those long nights, and uh... since I left I’ve been thinkin’ a lot...” he licks his lips and thinks back to the lines he’d gone over in his head like clockwork. His face twists into something more down and depressing, like whatever he’s trying to say will only burden their already troubled lives. “Too much, actually. I realize I’ve done almost nothing else worth my fucking time here except think of you whenever I feel shitty or, or like when everything is too much yet not enough. It’s been — been one of the only things I feel has real meaning to it for once, actually makes sense. ‘Cause you get me, and no one ever surprises me unless you do, and ah...” the blushing blonde shakes his head, a stray blonde curl falling to his forehead in the process of scolding himself with a swear before starting over.

“You know what? Fuck this. Let’s just go. We could just fuck off somewhere, go get a couple drinks, have a couple laughs, and... fuck. Shut up, you idiot. Don’t quote Die Hard on her for fuck sake,” he slaps his palm on his face, scoffing at his own stupidity before his eyes grew twice their size realizing how close the airport had become in the distance. He feels the same old doubt return right over his shoulder, and it smirks as if it’s being proven right; that telling her what he feels really is a horrible mistake. That it’s nothing but a rotten idea he’ll regret when she laughs in his face and turns around to fly right back to Santa Monica.

Billy’s heart is practically in his mouth by the time he pays for the ridiculously priced parking ticket and makes his way to the gate. His fucking leg somehow decides to grow a mind of its own, bouncing up and down with urgency while his teeth are occupied with chewing his fingernails down to the nub. He remembers when the roles were reversed once upon a time, when he was on the plane and she was the one agitated while sitting in the airport. Y/N still had that precious pink flush coating her cheeks when he was ready to board his flight, holding onto one of his biceps when she’d whispered something in his ear that had stuck with him:

”Don’t ever forget to remember me, okay?”

When Billy finally opens his eyes back up to the world around him, a herd of exhausted and enthusiastic travelers alike have exited the gate and met their loved ones with tired hugs and kisses. He rubs his pant leg to settle down while eagerly scoping the crowd for her hair or her face. When his wide eyes finally lands on her, the twang in his gut seeps back up to the surface, making Billy helplessly weak in the knees as he throws himself off the chair and into a pose ready for a warm welcome. He flails his arms in the air for her attention and calls out her name with repetition like a nuisance, both careless and unaware of the ruckus he’s stirred in front of all the annoyed families surrounding him. When Y/N had seen it was Billy that was screaming up a storm, her face cracks up into that same shit-eating grin he’s always known and loved then jogs over. The desperate pair reunite in the middle.

“I thought you were dead or something, asswipe! Why didn’t you ever write or call?” Y/N squealed in his arms as he picks her up and spins her around with sloppy grace. Billy bites his lower lip as he puts her down, his hands going down to cup her cheeks with tenderness, as if she were something to be cherished forever, and she is.

“Eh, some things are just better said face-to-face I guess,” he shrugged, giving her cheek a peck before bending over to pick her bags up and swing them effortlessly over his shoulder. As they bicker back and forth like the good old days while making their way to the dark busy parking lot, Billy can say with utter undeniable truth that he genuinely feels all is right with the world again.

—

“I can’t believe I’m even here right now and finally seeing this dump that stole my best friend with my own two eyes. I mean I got like eighty bucks to my name, little to no idea where I’ll stay, but I actually made it!” she hollered, playfully giving the blonde’s ass a painless smack. He reacted with a bashful jump and a laugh, struggling with her bags under pressure. “Can’t wait to see your car again ‘cause man I missed her. Old Martha still runnin’ smooth and pretty, I presume?”

Billy felt breathless as he set her luggage down to the pavement, reaching for his car keys to unlock the trunk before hauling them inside and slamming it closed. He stops to look back at her with a twinkle of mockery in his eye.

“So that’s what you named my car, huh? Martha?” he fact-checks, going over to the passengers side to open it for her, the chivalry he only abided by around her in particular coming back like it never left at all. Like they were still the same confused teenagers first meeting, getting into mischief just to busy their bland, empty agendas. She gives him a half-hearted shrug before explaining.

“Heard it’s good luck to name everything you own, amirite? Plus, you got no right making fun of that name. That’s my aunt’s name, ‘case you forgot stealing all her pot from her sock drawer and smoking it with me at school,” Y/N retorts with a finger pointed at him accusingly. The blonde behind the wheel let’s out a sarcastic ha ha at the memory, starting up the Camaro and backing out as the girl in the passenger’s side messes with the radio. The fond memories have flooded back almost uncontrollably; he can’t wait to make more, even if they only had tonight.

“In our defense that’s a shitty place to hide all that dope, alright? And uh, pretty sure that’s with boats. You name a boat and that gives you good luck. Not a car, you fuckin’ genius.”

Her face scrunches up in thought as if that’s the most mind-boggling thing she’s ever heard, and it ruins Billy with how fucking cluelessly perfect the facial expression is. He watches with intent as she snaps out of it in a hurry. “What you just said makes literally no sense, but I’ll ignore the ridicule and cut to the chase, Bilbo. What is it you’ve been up to without me or the beach? Gone insane yet?” she teased the last part in his ear, putting a hand on his right shoulder and giving it a squeeze. It takes Billy a moment to try and get used to how normal this really is, being touched by her, and he’d nearly forgotten that she’ll give any guy with a heartbeat the exact same treatment. Billy wasn’t an exception, and surely he wasn’t the first guy to get butterflies either.

With a clear of his throat, he throws back on his social mask for stability before shaking his head, the disbelief out in the open within his tone. “Are you fucking kidding, Smalls? ‘Course I did. What good is anywhere or anything when it doesn’t involve you or the goddamn beach?” Billy finished, finding his way onto the main road and putting the airport in his rear view. The driver thinks back two years prior and reminisced on all the adventures they had in Santa Monica before the inevitable happened. He fixed his hair absentmindedly (maybe even a little self-consciously) before reluctantly rambling on under his breath about what’s been ruined since he got taken away from paradise.

“Not a lot goes on ‘round here. Seriously. Place reaks like cowshit, haven’t met anyone worth my time. Max doesn’t seem to think so though, I guess. She’s even made more friends than me. Like... sure, I found this group of jackasses that worship me for knowin’ how to hold my booze, but I haven’t found anything like what we had. Not even close.” Billy swallows, looking back up to the rear view mirror like how he practiced on the way over. It isn’t the same, and he feels too vulnerable saying anything like that out loud with her sitting right fucking there. So he does what any man in the right mind would do, and reacts to his fear, his doubt. He backs down and changes the subject without looking in her direction to see her face. The boy faked a chuckle, an unconvincing one, then keeps his eyes on the road so he doesn’t fucking crash them.

“Tried to liven things up a little, but it’s so goddamn boring, y’know? So uh, anyway, that’s... yeah.”

It starts off sounding so pitiful, then it ends so fucking weak and pathetic. The blonde foolishly hoped and hoped, knowing he could do it, could put everything into English and say it. But he can’t. It gets stuck on his tongue, stuck like a gross aftertaste of something he can’t get rid of. It stings.

He feels his other leg not pressed on the gas physically twitch when the girl beside him puts a palm on his lap to soothe him of imaginary worries. Her eyes were practically scraping to get inside his soul and have it be her own place to call home when he merely glanced at her. It took an enormous amount of will power not giving in to the temptation, but he pulls it off by distracting himself with views of the dark road ahead.

“Yeah, also uh, my old man won’t know you came here for me. I made sure of it. We’ve got all night to catch up,” he ended on a high note, now finding himself grin at all the possibilities awaiting as the girl now has taken to copying him by eyeballing the lifeless scenery out the window that is Hawkins.

After a hasty moment, she hums to acknowledge him and follows it up with a soft, somewhat unsure murmur. “That’s good. Great, actually. I um, I got lots of shit to fill you in on, and I mean a lot, but... anyways, it’s not important. Fuck. Hey, there any places to eat ‘round here? I’m starving,” she finished with glee, deciding to ditch the mood-killing approach at telling him what had happened to her while he was gone.

The blonde hums as he threw a smile at the road, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in excitement, back in the groove. He had just overreacted, that’s all. Their evening didn’t have to depend on what she said back. He could tell her later on and be at peace whether or not she reciprocated his longing for more.

“Alright. Well uh, lucky for you, Smalls, I know just the right place for us. Get ready for the baddest burgers in this shit town, ‘kay?”

Y/N let out a snort after holding her breath a beat too long, shoving her partner’s shoulder before gluing her eyes to the road.

—

“... So then I’m running as fast as I possibly can to get outta there before this fat guy could catch me, he even threatened me with a goddamn gun. Surprisingly he was really fast, too, alright. Like — like The Flash fast. ‘Coulda almost beat ‘em too, but right after I’m rushing to hop this fence, I jump too high and lose my grip. The ground really knows how to whoop my ass,” Billy snorted as he incessantly raved about the shit pot he’d stirred. After trespassing private property not only on a school night, but also at four in the morning. “Oh, also landed right on the money maker,” he smirked, gesturing towards his face with a French fry covered in ketchup between his fingers. “I think I lost a tooth while I was at it, too.”

“Fucking A, Billy! Dude, to be fair, from the sound of it you really got what you deserved,” Y/N pointed out while marveling at his male idiocracy, a goofy scowl plastered on her face as she shook her head back and fourth. She dropped the napkin she’d crumbled up in her palms to her half-empty plate of a classic diner burger and the French fries that Billy had no shame in picking at. He nodded while looking like he was proud of the chaos he’d created, taking his partner’s Cherry-Vanilla Coke and slurping the remaining sip through the straw. He hadn’t had an appropriate moment to give telling her their situation another try, but he’s content with the comfortable familiarity of exchanging both horrific and grotesque stories in each other’s absence. It felt like slipping on an old pair of boots that still fit somehow, still felt good to wear and walk around in, and he wasn’t willing to unlace them or take them off quite yet.

“Yeah yeah, what goes around comes around. I know. Speaking of which, you uh, you got any news to tell me?” the boy asked suspiciously, recalling how their only topic of conversation all night had been solely regarding his whereabouts and only vague answers coming from her. “I know you weren’t up to any good either, Smalls. Pretty hard to deny, what with our reputations and all.” he grinned, pulling a nearly empty pack of Menthols and sticking one on his lip, signaling their waitress for the check with a hand gesture. Y/N’s face twists into something worrisome, brows knitted, lip bit, arms crossed like she wanted to disappear. She was hiding something.

The uneasiness doesn’t rest lightly on the boy’s shoulders at her expression, and thankfully their waitress has great timing and clears their table of their finished goods.

“Can we talk outside, maybe? Or, or just go— just go somewhere where we can —“

Billy scrambled to assure her that her wish was his command, breaking whatever unwelcome tension with a helpful hand on her shoulder. “Of course, Smalls. You don’t know where you’re staying tonight, right?”

A watery smile spreads on her small face, a slight shake of the head that says no, I’ve had no idea where the fuck to stay every night for months, dipshit.

“Look, I have a plan for you, okay? Got you money for a room at this motel not very far, I’ll take care of you.” he swore, unzipping his jacket and covering her back with it as the frosty air nipped their cheeks on the way outside. The moon glowed in the sky, acting like a night light for them as they approached Old Martha, cranking the heat in as soon as they were both safe inside.

The pair sit in silence, the boy unaware of what’s changed or made her stiffen up; the girl unaware of how she’ll confess something that only a select few know and have already judged.

“Now what— no, who the hell is it that made you this upset, huh?” he threatens to the unknown source of his best friend’s pain, already getting revved up to fly back home and settle this out with his fists. Their destinated motel only a mile away and seatbelts not even fastened.

“I’ve — I’ve been keeping something from you.”

Billy blinks stupidly and throws his hands off the steering wheel and in the air. Could this be it? Could it mean the same thing as him keeping something from her? Nothing is getting answered fast enough, and he’s so sick of waiting. “Okay? And what the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Y/N chews her bottom lip and rests her elbow on the door, her palm now gathering the dramatic beads of sweat from her forehead. “It means I’ve got a reputation; you know, I know, the whole fucking population of Santa Monica knows, Billy! You don’t need to act dumb, okay, it isn’t cute anymore.”

The driver squints in utter bewilderment, finally pushing the brake with impatience, making them bounce forward at the sudden stop. The Camaro sits outside the motel as droplets of rain grow heavier and louder as it pecks on the windows. It could almost drown out the feeling of intensity in the small space.

The blonde pinched the bridge of his nose like an irritated diva, pairing that with a seemingly apathetic eye roll. “I was only kidding back there about that shit. You know I don’t believe that nonsense about you... sleepin’ around or whatever, okay. I only believe you. I trust your word over those assholes and their tendency of spreading fucked up lies about any girl in school, ‘kay?”

Y/N felt on the brink of a drastic explosion, going as far as to open the window and sticking her head outside to feel the raindrops pool around her face, tickling her with its’ gentleness.

“Hey, get your head back in here. You’re gonna catch a cold, and then you’ll have to fly back home sick tomorrow, alright, so could we just cut the charade and talk like adults—” Billy’s reprimand was interrupted by Y/N’s surprising outburst.

“I don’t have a home anymore!” she screeched, yanking her head back inside and flipping her wet hair out of her face before crossing her arms stubbornly. “It was taken away from me. Got kicked out ‘cause of my reputation,” she trailed off as he turned his head to the side in concern mixed with confusion, his jaw wide enough to catch flies. Before spitting another useless question at her, he swallowed with unstoppable nerve and cautiously reached over to her door and roll the window back up.

“Smalls, I’m — I’m fucking sorry. So sorry. But right now all’s I wanna do is get you nice and dry. Cozy too, and in our own space with no one to bother us or... or even kick us out. I’m gonna get your bags, we’ll go fetch a room, and then continue this by then, okay?” he whispered, finding his fingers had gotten wet while delicately petting her damp locks. Her lips wiggled like she was gonna blow into tears any second, and he really hated the sight, but whoever was responsible in making her homeless was gonna be sorry they ever caused someone as close to Billy as she was so much pain.

The rain came down and soaked the blonde’s hair, color fading to a chestnut brown under the weather as he fumbled with his keys to get into the trunk as fast as possible. Her bags weren’t the lightest, but it must’ve been nearly all her belongings if she didn’t have a home anymore. They rested like rocks on his back and in his grasp as he gave Y/N the signal to hurry out as to not get any more drenched than her face had already become. Billy spits on the pavement before counting down from three on his fingers, and as soon as he got to one she was out and flailing in the rain with him, both eager to get warmth and shelter. Some giggles were even shared as they cringed feeling their clothes sticking to their bodies before finally making it inside.

The guy behind the counter wasn’t amused by their boisterous entrance, but they couldn’t find it in them to feel bad. After getting themselves a room key, they forced themselves to put a hault on their dispute for now, just like pressing the pause button on a TV remote; Billy rubbing her lower back in the elevator once he’d set her luggage down and Y/N leaning further into him as tears threatened to wilt out of her. Finding room 1408 thankfully wasn’t like a game of Where’s Waldo, and they’d both gotten comfortable quickly in the tidy space. The boy had set her things down as she fled to the restroom. He’d taken to counting all the shapes he could make out on the tacky wallpaper and got stopped at number fifty-eight. Y/N emerged from the bathroom much drier yet back in a similar state as before; frightened and uncomfortable. Taking action, he threw himself off the King sized bed and took her into his embrace.

“You’re safe with me, you do realize that, right?” he muttered, trying his hardest to keep it together like the broken girl in his arms. She trembled in a way that said she didn’t know she was safe, like she still felt wrong. In one swift movement, she shoved him backward and left him stumbling in ignorance and hurt, barely giving him a warning before she finally snapped.

“It’s true what those boys said about me, what I did with them. You would’ve known that by now if you had a goddamn brain instead of this... this giant heart of a puppy,” she cradled her head in guilt and shame for everything coming from her mouth, stepping back and avoiding his eyes all together. “I slept with the basketball team, the football team, even the fucking tennis club! You name it, I’ve fucked it. You know what’s crazy about this, other than the amount?” she asked rhetorically, her voice winding down to a broken whisper.

Billy feels his eyes well up and he doesn’t put energy into stopping it. There are veins bulging, flaming up in places he hadn’t even known he had. He recalls all the side eyed looks from the boys while he walked down the halls with her, when he’d ditch to smoke her aunt’s dope with her, or in class laughing with her. They weren’t ogling him because they thought they’d be a cute couple. They were laughing at him in silence because he was whipped for Santa Monica’s school skank.

“I don’t regret all of it; well, all but one. You, you remember Chris Hooker, he was your runner up? Chris fucking idolized you, Billy. He wanted to be like you so bad that... he thought one way of being like you was to get with me. And I let him after you left, I was so lonely that I’d do just about anything to cover up the shitstorm of losing you; and if that meant fucking this guy that always dressed like you and acted like you all the time— then so be it.” Y/N shrugged, trying to wipe the endless waterfall of tears as she watched Billy break too.

“You... you didn’t—“ he tried to deny, shaking his head and mimicking her by cradling his head in his hands as he walked in circles back and fourth, not believing anything he’s hearing. She sniffled and rubbed her nose with her sleeve before coming closer to him, looking him in the eye the first time since her confession begun.

“It happened, and I’ve never been this sorry about anything in my life, Billy. In fact, I even said sorry to him, ‘cause I couldn’t take care of it or even myself after he knocked me up and turned my life into this, this total hellhole—“

“You got kicked out because they found out,” Billy mumbles when he came to the realization, staring as if he were hypnotized by the painting of an angel hung up on the wall behind her. “They found out that you got pregnant, then you got rid of it... so they ended up punishing you.”

Y/N clung to him tighter before confirming with an uneasy nod, a sob escaping and tearing through her as she got red.

“I never named it, so I guess it didn’t bring good luck, remember?” she reminded him of their previous conversation when she first landed, stroking his arms up and down with tenderness. “You um, you missed a part of the story actually, a really important one.”

The blonde recoiled from his partner and scrubbed his arms in hysteria, feeling hopeless and weak and like all his doubt had fed to his brain was right. He wasn’t an exception. He wasn’t the good guy, he was just another guy going nuts for the same girl everybody else in their entire class ever did.

“Stop it! Stop hurting yourself, Billy, this is my fault. I should’ve told you sooner that—“

“What? What’s left to say now?”

“That I—“

”WHAT?” his fists were clenched and thick at his sides, the jealousy and the disgust overtaking him and fueling a fire that hadn’t started over night.

“That I love you!” she had shouted, both of them spiraling out of the devastating tornado of abandonment and lies, now joining together in the middle; mirroring their warm welcome at the airport just hours before. Billy’s fingers shoved her by her hips so that they were skin-to-skin as he finally went in for the kiss all the guys back home already knew but he himself had never gotten to experience. They were both gone, desperate for their touches and their actions to say everything they’d wanted to say. The apologies, the love, the hurt. She tasted lovely on his tongue, and he waited for the need to breathe to become nearly unbearable before even thinking of pulling away. Their mouths made a smacking sound as their lips left eachothers, making Billy let out a helpless, weak in the knees sounding moan.

“And to finish the missing part, um... I can’t keep kissing random strangers pretending that they’re you,” she whispers in his ear, bashfully coming back down from her tippy-toes right after giving a playful nibble to his ear and a warm kiss on the cheek. Billy thinks back to his alone time talking in the mirror, all the things he said and wrote down, practiced for this very moment. Like clockwork, he spouts the rehearsed lines out that felt like daggers holding inside.

“Smalls... since I’ve been gone, ah... all’s I’ve done is nearly nothing worth my time except, only except thinking of you when I feel like everything is a lot. And also like everything was never really enough. It’s like one of the only things I feel like has meaning to it for once. ‘Cause you get me, I get you. No one ever surprises me unless you do. And I fucking love you even more, Y/N, and I’d like to make you forget. Forget about those dicks, forget about your parents. You’re with me from here on out, you understand? Smalls?” he opens his eyes to see her doing that thing again, where she scrapes into his soul and nests inside, makes it a home for herself. It makes him melt in all the right and wrong ways imaginable.

“I understand.”

[yellowsugarwords]

Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Missing More”

Title: Missing More Characters: Ericson Kids Summary: When Clementine and the Ericson crew drive to Clementine’s childhood home, they get to relive her last few moments with Lee again from a found video recording. Takes place after episode 1. Author's Note: Okay so the premise of this is going to be a little wonky to give this plot an opportunity to happen so let’s pretend that the Stranger wasn’t killed and continued to stalk Clementine after she left with Lee okay bye enjoy. Sequel to this fic Requested By: Anonymous support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

For years, every time her birthday rolled around, Clementine asked for the same thing: “Just once, I want to go back to my childhood home and get some closure.”

Little did she know that, since she first started making that wish, the crew had been working on exactly that.

In one of the back garages, Marlon had found a busted old van. It only had a sliver of gas in it, and was in rough shape, and the following years were spent scavenging for gas, and attempting to get the van working again.

As Clementine’s 19th birthday lingered on the horizon, they’d done it: Mitch had replaced the final busted part of the van, and the crew had managed to fill and find a total of 8 gasoline tanks.

“How many do you think we’d need for a road trip?” Violet had asked.

Marlon had only shrugged. “We might as well be safe and take all 8.” They had no idea how cars worked — hell, only a few of them even knew how to drive — but they were going to try their best regardless. For Clementine.

The first half of the drive was filled with excited chatter and blissful conversation. To keep watch over the school, Omar, Aasim, Brody, and Ruby decided to stay back at the school. Marlon, Louis, Violet, Clementine, AJ, Mitch, Willy, and Tenn were the group that hit up the van.

“We’ll be back in a few days.” Marlon said, already having worked out himself how long the drive would be. “Keep hold of the fort until then.”

Everyone nodded, hugging and wishing each other well, before venturing off.

Then, the fun began.

“Pass me the crackers.”

“You’ve already eaten like half the bag.”

Willy scoffed, snagging the bag out of Mitch’s hands and shoving another scoop into his mouth. “How long until we get there?”

Marlon adjusted the rear-view window, casting a harsh glare the child’s way. “Still a few more hours.”

“Ugh. We’ve been driving all day.”

“That’s why it’s called a roadtrip, Willy.” Louis said, smirking into the back. “We need to travel a distance to get there.”

“What Louis means,” Violet said through a sigh, “is shut up, Willy.” Her head leaned against the back of her seat, eyes closed, body tense.

Clementine, sitting in the passenger seat, smirked into the open, empty highway. It was familiar to her in the strangest way. She’s never driven the highway before today, but it felt warm somehow. Familiar. As though it was a shadow of the life that used to dwell there; along the sides of the road and off into the distance.

By the time they actually hit the city, the feeling of warm nostalgia took a dark, quick turn. The abandoned homes, eerie streets, and haunting a sense of life made Clementine’s skin crawl.

“Left here,” she whispered, voice haunted and scared. Still, despite the heartache she felt seeing her old hometown in ruin, she still knew her way home. Her parents had taught her to memorize the ‘important streets’ so she always knew how to get home if she ever became lost. If there was ever an emergency.

She gave direction the entire drive home, her code wavering and her hands forced into her lap, wound tightly together. She had braced herself for the worst — for her home being unrecognizable — but this somehow she hadn’t prepared for.

She hadn’t been prepared for the extent of how different everything would look.

By the time the car rolled to a stop, everyone bouncing with the weight of the breaks, Clementine was hesitant to lift her gaze from her lap.

“Clem? Is this the place?” Marlon asked. Realizing she didn’t have a choice, she gulped and looked up.

Her eyes immediately grew teary, studying the cracked windows and worn wooden panels. “Yep.” Was all she could muster, cracking her door open and stepping outside. The grass was dead, the building tattered and beaten by the elements, and the door was cracked and splintered. Apparently, someone had once jimmies a knife into the lock to get inside the house, clearly unaware that the back door had been left unlocked.

But, what brought Clementine the biggest moment of pause was the full mailbox.

She frowned, drawing closer to the door, running her fingers over the tattered and tarnished wood. Inside, she found a package, wrapped and labelled, her name scrawled on the front in messy black ink. Her heart leapt into her throat, freezing there.

“Clementine?” Louis asked. Clementine said nothing, only tore open the end of the package and slipped out a flash drive with a slip of paper taped to it. Louis, peeking in over the girl’s shoulder, held his breath. “Oh my God.”

Suddenly, all the Ericson kids turned, brows raised, drawing closer to the duo. The note was short, and simple, but haunting.

‘Something I think you’d like to see. - your friend’

Clementine closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then pushed open her front door. She slipped through her house, ignoring the overturned and tattered furniture, the haunting, dried pool of blood in the kitchen, and the dead body of her babysitter, abandoned by the back door.

She ignored it all and made her way toward the computer tucked into the back corner. All she could do was pray, that somehow, it still worked. She opened the laptop, her fingers crossed and strained, then hit the power button. Luckily for her, it came to life, thanks to being plugged in until the last moment electricity was active in the world.

By the time that nostalgic glow smacked her in the face, she realized the battery was at a dwindling 10%. Urgently, she slapped in her father’s password and jammed in the flash drive.

“What are you doing?” Marlon asked, arms crossed in horror. “You can’t just check to see what’s on it.”

“Why not?” Violet challenged. “Are you not curious about what’s on it?”

Clementine huffed, as though frustrated at how long it was taking the old laptop to register the flash drive. “I haven’t lived in this house in years, and yet, somehow, someone sent a package here addressed to me.” She turned, flashing Marlon a harsh glare. “I’m watching it.”

When she turned back to the screen, after silencing the room with her statement, she noticed there was only one file on the drive. It was fairly small, a single video file titled ‘the end’. With a deep breath, and with a shaking hand on the track pad, she moved towards it and clicked.

A security camera video popped to life, hauntingly similar. Clementine squinted, adjusting the brightness on the computer, aware it was going to drain the battery even further. Then, as two figures fumbled into the frame, Clementine’s breath caught in her throat. “No.” Was all she could muster.

It was her and Lee, entering the jewellery store, Lee’s lower arm missing, Clementine shaking and sobbing from spotting her dead parents roaming the streets.

“What’s going on?”

“Clem?”

Clementine stumbled away, ignoring Louis and Marlon’s panicked questions. She turned away, studying the corpse of her babysitter on the floor, decayed and unrecognizable.

It had been the Stranger. She knew it. She could feel her gut twisting at the mere thought.

After Lee had rushed her out of there after beating the man senseless, he’d come to and hadn’t stopped. He’d followed them to the jewellery store, watching as Clem was forced to kill Lee, and then stole a copy of the security tape, hoping and praying to prove to Clementine that... what? She had someone ‘watching out for her’?

“Clementine, what is this?” Violet asked, refusing to take her gaze off of the haunting image before her. AJ, creeping forward to get a better glimpse, felt his heart race at the sight of the child and older man.

“That’s me and Lee.” The room went dead-silent, as much also that everyone could hear a pin drop. “And I’m about to kill him.”

The group grew silent. Mitch, Louis, and AJ were the only ones who could look away, glancing nervously at the girl rather than studying the clip. Inevitably, all except Louis turned back to watch. Louis couldn’t stomach the sight.

There was muffled speaking — so quiet that the mics couldn’t quite pick it up — and shuffling around the room. The group watched as Clementine secured Lee to the radiator, as she lifted the gun to his head, as they made their teary goodbyes.

Then, the gun shot.

The room was silent and still, watching as the battery continued to drain from the small device before them. Clementine said nothing. She didn’t react, she didn’t flinch, she just stared dead-ahead at the bloody puddle in the kitchen, longing to be anywhere else but there.

Her eyes glossed over, feeling closer to Lee than she had felt in a long time in her home, before flicking away a single ear and starting for the door. “I think I’m ready to go home now.” She whispered.

“Home?” Willy hushed. Mitch set a hand on the child's shoulder, hoping to pause him from asking further questions.

“Real home.” Clementine clarified, refusing to look their way. She didn’t want to sneak an accidental glance at the computer scene. “Not here.”

Louis stepped forward, his heart heavy and weary, throwing his arm over her shoulders and guiding her toward the exit. “We can do that.” He cast a glance back at everyone else — daring and challenging — before exiting the room and starting for the van.

The group stood silent, heart weary and heavy, stomachs fragile and depressed. Without a word, all of them retreated to the van, silently getting in, remaining silent for the first chunk of the drive home.

Then, when Clementine grew teary-eyed in the passenger seat, Louis began loudly screaming ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’.

Then, Clementine knew she was home.

Then, Clementine knew what home actually felt like. It wasn’t a place. It was a group of people, a tiny, busted van, and throwback songs from a better life. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

[becuztaelien]

2| The Beast

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4

2.9k words, Warning: Intense shit, language

“Boss, I have visual on the boy, waiting for further instructions.”

Your body froze as thoughts of your best friend flooded back inside your head. Within seconds, you found your face being pressed into Yoongi’s chest.

“Sh… don’t worry” your boyfriend softly muttered into your ear. He always knew exactly what to do and foresaw your panic before it even had a chance to begin. “Nothing bad will happen.” He simply said and held your now trembling body tighter.

“Boss?” The familiar voice spoke again and you pulled away from Yoongi, searching his eyes, desperate to know how he would save Jimin. The truth was, Yoongi had no idea what he was going to do, his men were all in Seoul and there was no way he could rescue Jimin immediately. Zico’s gang would undoubtedly find out about his murder very soon and seen as Yoongi had ripped half the man’s neck off, it wouldn’t be much of a question as to who the dead man’s killer was.

Yoongi leaned in and placed a soft, endearing kiss on your forehead before pulling away and making his way to the man he had recently damned to the afterlife. He fumbled around Zico’s blood stained jacket and retrieved your phone along with the device making all the noise. He noticed Zico had been on a muted phone call the entire time. Fuck… the bastard was really prepared for me huh… he took a quick glance at the lifeless face beside him and somehow felt a rush of excitement, for once, someone had managed to put him in a pinch. He was momentarily impressed but upon hearing your soft whimpers, a surge of anger spread through his body. Zico may have planned well but he also made it personal. Yoongi grabbed the dead man’s face, gripping his jaw so tight it may as well have cracked.

How dare he make you cry? But more so, what could be done in a situation like this? Should he give up his codes to measly henchmen and rush to change them? No, they would realise Zico was dead and that most definitely guaranteed Jimin’s funeral. Even on the off chance they didn’t kill Jimin, there was no way of knowing whether Zico had hacked into Hoseok’s system and placed someone on standby, waiting to punch in those digits and take Yoongi down. Fuck, think, think, think. He scratched his head for a second, he could not execute a plan unless the probability of success was high and currently both your happiness and his empire were at risk. You desperately waited, knowing Yoongi would come up with the best plan but your patience was quickly wearing thin.

“Yoon-”

“Y/n, call Jimin immediately and tell him to get the fuck back in that building”, he spoke calmly and stretched out his hand- holding your cell- back, you grabbed it without a second thought. Before standing up, Yoongi gave the deformed man a deep glare followed by a psychotic grin; you died thinking you had won didn't you? Pft, don't make me laugh.

The raven haired man reached into his pocket to retrieve his own phone and brought the device up to his ear after dialling an all too familiar number. It would be a risky operation but out of all the ones he could think of, this was the only one he was the most confident in. Yoongi grabbed your hand and began making his way out of Zico’s den; in the process of calling Jimin, you could only pray whatever Yoongi had in mind would work.

“Hello?” after the third ring, your childhood friend finally picked up and you had never been so relieved yet terrified to hear his voice.

“Chim!! Oh my god, thank fuck, go back, Chim go back inside!!”

“Y/n? What? Wait slow down what are you rambling on about?”

“Chim listen, I don’t have time to explain right now, just trust me and go back inside the academy, you have to go, please hurry!!!” You voice was obviously jam-packed with panic and worry causing Jimin to stop in his tracks and turn around. He was extremely confused as to how you even knew where he was but judging from your tone he decided to do as he was told; the answers would surely follow.

“Get the Chopper to the closest rooftop you can find, now.” Yoongi instructed before the person he had dialled even had a chance to say ‘hello’. The moment both of you were outside, a professionally dressed, grey haired man, seemingly in his forties was waiting next to Yoongi’s Audi R8 V10, the black model, of course and you recognised it immediately. Your boyfriend hurriedly opened the door for you as he had been doing for the last 3 years and you slid in as he followed promptly. “Head for HQ” he ordered, “Jung should contact us with a location soon.” The driver had already stepped on the gas and gave Yoongi a quick nod through the rear view mirror. While you were busy trying to tell Jimin his life was in danger, Zico’s men spoke through the deceased man’s phone again.

“Boss, the boy is returning to the Academy, we need your instructions.”

Your face visibly went pale but before you had a chance to freak out Yoongi tightly held your hand. “Is he inside?” He asked in reference to Jimin and you quickly asked your best friend; Yoongi’s grip on you was really the only thing keeping you calm at this point.

“Yea, yea I just walked back in, y/n you need to give me an explanation rig-” you nodded to your boyfriend who had been closely observing for a response. The second you confirmed, Yoongi broke the blood stained phone with his bare hands and chucked it out the window almost too casually which resulted in a shook expression from you. He shrugged and smiled comedically in response and you were about to ask what in the hell he was doing but then Jimin’s voice went louder “-are you even listening y/n?!” your mind returned to the call and you decided there was no point in questioning Yoongi’s methods.

“Chim, listen, I really can’t explain right now, I just need you to trust me, stay in that building until I say otherwise, please just...” Your eyes started getting teary again just thinking about what could go wrong and of course Jimin recognised this immediately.

“Okay, okay I trust you, I trust you, please calm down.” You nodded into the phone trying to collect yourself and began taking deep breaths. Seconds later, there was a loud ding on the screen next to the driver with what you only assumed could be coordinates from Hoseok; Yoongi’s tech specialist and right-hand man.

“Where?” he asked but it sounded more of a statement than a question.

“Seocho Garak Tower, Sir.” Upon hearing the driver’s response Yoongi grinned, countless memories of himself and Hoseok returning.

“In this situation, he really-” he almost chuckled but brushed it off, knowing he had to be there for you, nostalgia could be delayed.

9:52pm, Busan Dance Academy

“Hello? Hello??” Renjun, Zico’s most trusted man, looked at his phone, confused as to why the call had suddenly dropped. He called his partner who had been assigned to the other exit of Busan Dance Academy. They had both been tailing and observing Jimin for months, learning his schedule, where he worked, where he liked to eat, where he bought his groceries. If there was anything to know about his habits, they knew it. Renjun didn’t suspect anything when Jimin went back into the academy since the boy was reasonably forgetful but Zico going blank was definitely suspicious.

“Yea?” his partner finally answered.

“Jae, I need you to check where the Boss is.” Jaemin was another one of Zico’s trustees; he had also been Renjun’s partner since before they joined their now dead leader’s gang. Both of them were a brilliant team; Jaemin specialised in weapons and tech while Renjun was better at close combat and guns.

“Copy that.” After a minute of silence Jaemin responded finally, “He’s offline…? I can’t track his phone, the tracking device was either disabled or destroyed. Weren’t you on a standby call with him?” Renjun cursed under his breath knowing The Beast had compromised the mission. Of course this happened, they were going up against the man who practically owned Korea, there were bound to be hurdles.

“Shit… I should have known when he didn’t respond the first time.” He explained the situation to his partner all the while trying to figure out what to do considering they had no back up. Only the people involved in the mission knew about it and if Zico wasn’t responding, it was easy to assume none of the other men would either. “We have the upper hand right now.” He finally concluded, “Min and his men are in Seoul, the boy will come out soon, we have to capture him alive. The Boss was confident that this was the Beast’s only weakness, we have no choice but to use it.” He crossed his legs and the bench beneath him made a subtle creaking sound. He was dressed casually; blending into the crowd, the only difference? No one else was carrying five guns hidden in their coat.

“Jun… do you think the boss is-” Jaemin didn't even have to finish his question, Renjun had already been thinking of it.

“If The Beast came personally then we have to assume so.”

10:07pm, Seocho Garak Tower

You stood in the 24 story building’s private elevator with your boyfriend, hands still intertwined. It was silent at first, the only sound being that of the elevator itself and Yoongi’s soft breathing.

“Yoonie…” you muttered softly “Busan is 4 hours away, how are we ever going to get there on time?” The raven haired man smirked at your concern before taking your face between his hands and gently caressing your cheek with his thumb.  

“Princess you’re underestimating how fast a helicopter can go, don’t you worry about getting there on time.” He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and proceeded to press your head against his strong chest “we will save Jimin, okay?” You nodded through watery eyes and wrapped your arms around his frame. If you were honest with yourself, you were still worried sick and you had no clue how you were going to tell Jimin that you were literally dating the most insane criminal mastermind in Korea, if not all of Asia but you trusted Yoongi. He may have been insane and ruthless but he was never anything but kind, gentle and caring towards you; you trusted him more than anyone and anything but you weren’t sure if you trusted him with Jimin’s life.

The elevator doors opened and there were three men waiting for both of you. “It’s ready, Sir.” One of them stated as a matter of fact and Yoongi pulled away slightly to see your expression. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before giving him a small nod.

“Let’s go save Jimin.”

10:58pm, In the Helicoptor

Your phone started buzzing and you quickly scrambled around your pockets trying to find it, knowing there was only one person who could possibly be calling.

“Chim? Are you okay?” you asked worriedly. The last hour had been full of panic and Yoongi holding you tightly but even in his warm embrace, Jimin was the only person on your mind. What if he gets hurt? What if he gets kidnapped? What if they kill him?! That’s exactly why when he called you were relieved but also anxious in case something had happened.

“Yea, I’m fine. There’s just one problem; the academy closes at 11 and I’m literally hiding in a janitors closet so you better explain whatever is going on right now.” You sighed in relief knowing he was safe but still struggled with how you would tell him about Yoongi.

“I think it would better if I explained in person, it’s a lot to take in and I’ll only be another 15 minutes-”

“YOU’RE COMING TO BUSAN? BITCH WHAT?” you had to pull the phone away from your ear because of how loud Jimin had exclaimed oh shit yea you thought upon realising you had forgotten to mention that minor detail. You couldn’t blame him though; it had been years since you both saw each other and you couldn’t help but smile at his excitement. Jimin had gone abroad after high school and by the time he came back, you were too deep in with Yoongi which made seeing your best friend risky. The last six months of your friendship was basically making excuses to avoid seeing him in case it would put him in danger and you cursed yourself for not deleting conversations and using untraceable lines of contact. It was your fault he was in danger and it was killing you inside but right now you had to make sure he didn’t get hurt.

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m coming and I’ll explain everything but Jimin you have to promise me you will not move until I get there.”

“What is upppp with all this secrecy?” he exclaimed in annoyance, “I’ve literally been freaking out for a whole ass hour like just tell me!” it was understandable; anyone in his situation would have been scared and confused.

“I know, I’m sorry I just…” you decided there was no point in delaying it, he deserved to know what was going on, “okay, you have to listen carefully.”

11:05pm, Busan Dance Academy

Everyone had left but not Jimin. Jaemin and Renjun had closely been watching and they were absolutely certain the dancer had not left the building. The lights had gone off and the last person out had locked the doors. This was a trivial issue, both gang members had picked numerous locks in their lifetime so getting in the building had been a piece of cake, the real challenge was searching for the brunette man.

“You think he knows we’re here?” Jaemin asked his partner who was looking through a classroom on the lower floor of the academy.

“Oh he definitely knows we’re here, he wouldn’t be hiding if he didn’t. The Beast’s slut probably told him” he chucked momentarily “which is funny because it really wouldn’t matter if he knew he was being hunted or not; he lost the moment Zico assigned us here.” With no sign of Jimin in the lower left wing of the academy, Renjun motioned for his partner to take the stairs up to the second floor while he searched the lower right wing.

At the same time, in the Helicopter 

“Yoongi isn’t who I told you he is…” you nervously mumbled into the phone.

“What? What does any of this have to do with your boyfriend?” Jimin sounded puzzled; of course he was, you had never lied to each other and now you were about to tell him your boyfriend of three years was the one people called ‘The Beast’.

“He’s … fuck! I’m sorry I lied to you about this, I had no other choice, I’m sorry…” you took a deep breath, but even then your body quivered “he’s the leader of a really big mafia gang.” You heard a low chuckle from the leader in question causing you to inquisitively look at him. What did he find so humorous right now? Your look was returned with a ‘that’s the way you introduce me to your best friend?’ vibe which of course resulted in you smacking his arm and rolling your eyes; Jimin could literally be killed at any moment yet somehow your boyfriend made the situation light hearted, even if for just a few seconds.

“What. The. Fuck. Y/n please don’t fuck with me right now I’m literally sitting next to a mop that smells like dancer sweat.”

“I wish I was making this up right now” and it was true, you didn’t want to admit it but deep down you were having doubts and wondering whether it was ever right for you to get involved with Min Yoongi in the first place. “A rival gang leader wanted to get to him and they found out about you, I’m so sorry for dragging you into this I-” your words got caught in your throat and suddenly the guilt of lying to Jimin along with thoughts of leaving Yoongi got a little too much.

“Okay, um… let me get this straight… I’m being hunted by the mafia right now…you have been dating a fucking criminal and lying to me for the last three years and WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK Y/N?” Jimin spat and you had never felt more ashamed. There was no other way to put it. You let your emotions get the better of you and didn’t stay loyal to the person who had your back since preschool; Jimin was the family you never had.

“I’m sorry… I jus-”

“No, don’t even apologise right now, do you realise the number of levels this is fuc-”

Silence

“…chim?” The line had suddenly gone quiet. “Jimin?” Every form of panic and fear soared through your being, tears flooding your eyes and your voice cracking each time you attempted to say his name. “J-jimin?? Please answ-”

It was as though all your worst fears came to life when you finally heard something on the other end of the line. The sound of a phone dropping from a frozen man’s hand followed by a deep, venomous voice.

Jaemin smirked, pressing his gun hard against Jimin’s temple,

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here.”

// Part 3