#our time chapter 6

[taestefully-in-luv]

Our Time | JJK (Six)

Summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader (Detective!Jk x Graphic Designer!OC) side pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: crime au, fluff, heavy angst, smut, romance, darker themes, amnesia au. Best friends to ???

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: ANGSTY chapter ahead. swearing, frustrations of amnesia, detailed descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks, mentions of blood, mentions of child abduction, lots of crying, confrontation, allusions to infidelity within marriage, feelings of betrayal, mention of suicide/death, obvious alcoholism, umm I think that’s it.

a/n: happy valentines day💕 (I haven’t slept yet so its still vday for me hehe) this is not a romantic chapter at all but I hope you still enjoy it. Thanks for those who have been patiently waiting for this chapter since ive been dealing with a lot lately. Well, I hope you guys enjoy and  please let me know what you think! Send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat :]

© taestefully-in-luv

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Generally speaking, light can serve as a symbol of life.

When there is light, it touches and beautifully blinds with bright, shimmering hope. But for you, your eyes have cast any ray of shining light away. And your entire view has been enveloped in the arms of darkness.

If light is a symbol of life but you and your soul are being carried on a ferry across the river of Styx towards the underworld…then is it safe to assume you are no longer living?

Have you truly died on the inside?

And this is your stygian reality?

Because now, in your world, light no longer exists.

You’re thankful for those people who know how to naturally calm others down. Those people who remain collected during a crisis. Those people who can snap someone out of there demise even when they’re rattled as well. Those people who remind you to breathe even when they’ve forgotten.

Well, Subin is not one of those people.

“He knows we’re coming, right?” Subin aggressively tries to exit the parking lot of the market, her eyes going everywhere yet you aren’t so sure she’s even seeing properly. 

“I—I talked to the nurse, s-she said to come now. The doctor should be free…fuck, I hope.” You look out the window, your head spinning while your chest grows tighter and tighter. 

Breathing with calm, even breaths is hard. 

It’s even harder because Subin is tense, her fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel as she tries to catch her own breath.

She’s always been the type to cry when others cry. Panic when other’s panic. So on and so forth.

You try your hardest to take a breath before speaking, “Can you drive?” You rest the side of your head against the window, your vision looking blurrier and darker. “J-Just pull ov—”

“—Shit, I’m so sorry, y/n.” Subin’s voice shakes, her eyes trying so hard to stay focused on the road. “I’m okay. I’m okay. You’re okay?” She quickly glances at you, “You’re okay, right?”

You rest your palm against your rapid heart, eyes squeezing shut at the pain and discomfort your chest is feeling. You need to breathe. Relax. 

“I-I’m fine.” You say as composed as you possibly can. “Water? Water? Do you…do you have water in here…?” You tiredly lean your head back, chest rising and falling quickly. “I feel sick.”

“Sick?” Subin clears her throat, though she’s panicking herself, she tries to get her shit together. “Like how?” She glances at you again, “I think there’s a bag behind your seat. Throw up in it if you need to….”

“Water, Subin.” You feel your throat closing in on you, “Do you have—”

“—Um,” Subin keeps one hand on the steering wheel while the other frantically feels the sides and below her car seat. “I think there’s a bottle…” She continues to search, the car slightly swerving but you hardly notice. “Here!”

You manage to open your eyes, sudden relief filling your veins when you see a half empty bottle of water. Subin pushes it towards you before she’s urging you to have some.

“Drink slowly.” She keeps a worried eye on you while driving as quickly as she can to the hospital. 

The moment water begins trickling down your throat, you feel the dizziness that’s consumed you start to subside.

With half of that bottle of water in your system, your vision is less blurry and less dark.

Literally speaking, darkness doesn’t have a veil over your eyes any longer.

But figuratively speaking, not even an ounce of light shines in your world at all.

You still can’t breathe. Because how could you?

How could you with the knowledge you currently have?

You’re convinced you’re having a heart attack…Doctor Lee, however, isn’t convinced about that.

“You’re just panicking.” He tells you softly, his eyes trained on your expressions. “It’s okay. This is completely normal, y/n.”

You quickly shake your head, refusing to accept that it’s only your emotions here that are the problem.

“This is normal…” He reminds you again, a gentle hand patting your back. “Once you accept that this is normal, it’ll get easier to control it. You’re overwhelmed and that’s okay.”

“I-I can’t breathe.” You manage to tell him, fingers tugging at the collar of your shirt. You wish you could tear off your clothes, your skin, all the feelings that bombard you.

“You can breathe.” Doctor Lee brings his hand towards his own body, he motions upward now with both hands as he urges you to inhale deeply. “You’re breathing right now. You’ve been breathing this whole time…even when it was hard, you’re still breathing, y/n.”

He’s…right. Since the market, since the car, since waiting for Doctor Lee to show up in this tiny room—you’ve been breathing the entire time.

You try to nod, swallowing hard but it hurts. 

Actually, it seems the physical pain is disappearing while emotional pain begins to sink it’s teeth into you. Pain is pain, you realize. 

“Good,” Doctor Lee keeps his focus on you, “Can you give me a deep breath?”

You nod, trying your hardest to inhale a breath but it’s sharp and poisoned.

Your eyes slam shut, your entire body closing in on itself. 

“Try to let go of a long breath for me,” Doctor Lee’s voice is soothing, “Feel everything. Gather all of it…and let it go with a long, long breath. Can you do that?”

Feel everything and let it go? How could you do that?

“I can’t.” You shake your head, eyes still slammed shut. “I just can’t.”

“You can.” He tells you, voice still calm. “I’m not asking you to sort through all your emotions right now and just let them go. No,” Doctor Lee sighs out for a moment before he’s pulling his chair out right in front of you and taking a seat. “I’m just asking you to recognize you have them and release them for a moment. That way you can gain more strength for when you eventually have to grab them again. You can’t get stronger if the panic you feel burdens you, y/n. Let’s breathe…” 

You open your teary eyes, teeth digging into your bottom lip as harsh breaths make your entire body grow weaker. Doctor Lee looks pleased just at the fact you’ve opened your eyes. He nods his head with a tender smile before he starts breathing with you. In and out. Slow and rest assuring. 

You aren’t sure how long it takes for you to have calm breaths again.

Doctor Lee doesn’t rush you. He gives you time and space to collect yourself. He’s aware that you are here because some memories have flooded your brain. And he’s aware that it had you drowning. He has told you countless times to reach out to him the moment something like this begins. You guess he anticipated this kind of reaction. 

“Just in case, I still want to run some tests. I’ll get nurse Choi to do labs.” Doctor Lee is scribbling onto his clipboard, but his eyes are still on you. “I know today has been scary for you but I’m sure your results will be fine. It’s always better to be a little more precautious, don’t you think?”

Your limbs are weak, draped over this uncomfortable chair as you give Doctor Lee a noncommittal nod. All of your energy has been drained from your body. Leaving you weak and helpless.

Doctor Lee’s pen comes to a slow stop, his lips turning down as he eyes you. “Hey,” He calls out slowly, your eyes barely lifting to him. “I’m afraid it’s going to be like this…overwhelming. Scary. Emotionally, physically draining.”

You stare at him with empty eyes.

“But this is a good sign, y/n….” He says and you can tell he isn’t necessarily happy to say it. “Your memories are in there and they’re going to start leaking out…and it won’t always be easy.”

You muster what little energy you have to scoff to yourself, “No kidding.”

“It just…it means that the chances of all your memory returning is a lot greater. They can all return to you.” He says much softer. You don’t respond though, making Doctor Lee sigh out in defeat before he’s placing the clipboard down. “This first time will probably be the hardest. It’s the first time you’re receiving new information.”

Your eyes meet his when he says that. Your brows slowly pull together as you think about it. “Well, kind of.” You admit to him. “I remembered a cat…” the space between your eyebrows creases further as you try to make things make sense in your head. “Actually…I have a question.”

Doctor Lee nods immediately, his attentive eyes on you. “What is it?”

“Is it possible to remember some things but not others?” You ask, but shake your head as soon as you ask it. “I mean…for example, I remember a cat that I shouldn’t remember. I only remember the cat though. I don’t remember anything else about the timeline of this cats life. You know, the things happening around this cat.”

Doctor Lee furrow his own brows, trying his best to make sense of what you’re asking.

You try to explain further, “I remember this cat. But I don’t remember that at the same time as this cat, I was also married.”

It seems it finally clicks, his mouth falling a little open as he nods. “I understand.”

“It’s just…the thing I remembered today…I remember certain details but there’s so much still missing.” You pause, the gloomy pressure once again in your chest but you take a deep breath. “Is it…” You meet Doctors Lee’s gaze again. “Is it possible that my brain blocked out an entire person in my memory? But I…” You can feel the tightness returning. “I….I have memory of this person existing within things but I don’t have actualrecollection of this per—person.” 

You shouldn’t feel ashamed the moment you see Doctor Lee’s eyes fill with pity.

“You know,” He clears his throat, blinking away the pity he feels for you. “The brain is truly such a complex thing. Your memories might come to you with no warning and things might not always make sense. Eventually, you might be able to piece some together. And yeah, I’d say it’s entirely possible not to have all the knowing details when you remember an event.”

“Then—”

“—But don’t be discouraged that things will always stay that way. Like you’re going to live your life solving some puzzle.”

Your eyes sting the moment he says that. You’re realizing how true that feels for you…like you’re just a player apart of some game. But you aren’t even sure you have all the puzzle pieces to even play. 

“As overwhelming as it is, this is a good sign. Your memories will most likely return. And maybe even soon.”

You realize he’s saying this as if it’s a positive. 

But you aren’t so sure that you even want them to return anymore.

“It might take Nurse Choi a little while to get your labs started…she’s doing some rounds right now.” Doctor Lee takes a look at his watch, “But I can grab your friend from the waiting room if you’d like me to? You’d be less bored waiting in here.” He smiles.

Though you cannot return his smile, you agree.

~

You know Subin is in this tiny room with you. You watched when one of the nurses brought her in. But even still, you jump in your chair when she calls out for you. Her worried eyes glued to you but you’ve barely noticed. Too busy sorting through the things you’ve seen in your head.

“Are you…” Subin’s voice is delicate over the harsh and rough thumping of your heartbeat. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You are okay. Because you weren’t experiencing a heart attack.

But are you okay? No, not at all.

You keep staring at nothing and Subin can do nothing but worry in the chair next to you. Her eyes anxiously darting around while you tap your foot against the floor impatiently. 

“y/n…” Subin says your name softly, her concern overflowing. “You—”

“—Exactly.” You give a curt nod, “They must be real.”

Subin frowns when she realizes you aren’t listening to her.

“They have to be real because…” You tear your gaze away from the abyss and bore your eyes into Subin’s. “She said my name, Subin.”

Subin tilts her head, gears working in her head but her confusion only grows. “What?”

“I just…” You drop your eyes back to the floor, focusing on nothing again. “I keep thinking that maybe my brain is making up the things I saw in my head.” You say quietly, your words feeling heavy on your tongue. “It wouldn’t be a first time…” You try to reason, more to yourself. You recall the boat, the lake, the scream, the shadow…what was real and what wasn’t? “I keep trying to think that my brain is just throwing out theories again.”

Subin shifts in the uncomfortable chair, “What…what do you mean?”

You sigh, a hand rubbing at your face tiredly. “I’m thinking of reasons.”

“Reasons?”

You drop your hand to your lap, an uneasy expression falling over your face as you glance at your friend. “A reason not to hate Jungkook.” 

Subin’s eyebrows immediately pinch together, “W-Why?”

You close your eyes for a moment, trying your best to take a deep breath. You hate that your heart feels miserable in your body right now. It’s screaming and it’s crying. Your heart’s loud, pathetic sobs are bouncing off the walls of your ribcage and you don’t know what to do to put it to rest. 

“I have nothing.” You whisper. A heavy feeling begins clinging to you like a cloak you cannot shrug off. “I have no excuses for him.” Your voice cracks, eyes still closed. “I know why I blame him for Haru and I know why we divorced.”

“What? Why?” Subin is suddenly more alert. You hear the way her chair screeches across the tile as she brings herself closer to you. “Are you sure? What…what is it?”

You finally open your eyes, head tilted back as you stare up at the ceiling now. “Nabi.”

It’s silent for a moment. You wonder if Subin heard you or not so you finally turn your head to face her but she looks even more confused.

“Nabi?” She finally gets the name out in question. She tries to think about it but after a moment she gives up. “Who’s that?”

“The girl from that café you like.” You tell her, “She was our server the first time we went together.” 

Subin sits back in her chair, her brain trying to understand what you’re saying. “Okay…a girl from the café is why—”

“—I knew I knew her.” You cut her off, eyes going back to nothing as you focus on Nabi. “She was so familiar and I had no clue why. But she said we didn’t know each other. And I am almost so certain she never heard my name.”

Subin shakes her head, leaning towards you. “And then what?”

“Then I ran into her at the store and I saw so many things.” You get the words out quickly and stop just as fast. You saw a lot of things. Too many things. “I…” You try to speak again but your throat is burning and you heart is crying again.

“You think she had something to do with Haru?” Subin asks you, concern clear in her voice. 

“I…” You pause again. Your chest is feeling tight all over again but you can’t risk losing your ability to breathe now. “She also has to do with my failing marriage.” You keep your eyes low.

“Your marr…” Subin’s words get quieter before her hand goes to your shoulder, “Are you saying that Jungkook knows her?”

You scoff, trying your best to remain calm. But your voice betrays you, “Considering he was cheating on me with her then yeah, I-I would say so.” 

You’re startled when Subin is standing from her chair, concerned eyes forcing themselves to you, “Woah, woah. You don’t really think…” She shakes her head, rejecting the entire idea. “No, you are not saying Jungkook—”

“—I don’t want to be saying that, Subin.” You snap at her, your eyes growing watery as your voice shakes. “But that’s what I’ve—I’ve seen. M-my brain showed me so much and that’s why I…why I keep thinking maybe they aren’t actual memories. That I don’t actually know her.” You feel you are starting to lose control again, your breaths coming out faster. “But Subin,” Your face twists and your heartache is seen. “She said my name. She knows my name. She knows who I am.” 

Subin takes a seat again, unsure of what to say.

“If we know each other…then it means maybe what I saw was…” You swallow hard but not choking on your words is fucking hard. “It was m-maybe real then.”

“But I mean…are you really sure though?” Subin rests a hand over your shoulder. “I’m sorry but…is what you’re seeing…you know, reliable?”

You feel yourself grow weak and small in this chair. Your body slumping over and slightly sliding down as you try to think of a proper response.

“I mean,” Subin’s fingers give you a comforting squeeze, “I’m not saying we shouldn’t trust what you’ve seen…but it’s a tricky situation.”

You know you are dying inside. Truly, even if a flickering light that might have been keeping you alive until this moment has shut off. Because you wish you could agree with her and let that thought alone comfort you. But again, you aren’t ignorant. And you won’t start now.

“No, they’re memories.” You tell her, eyes on the ground. “I know they are. I feel them.”

Subin’s hand drops from your shoulder, a sad and soft ‘oh’ spills quietly from her mouth. 

You try to straighten up in the chair, letting a deep sigh roll off your body. “But until I talk to Jungkook…I can’t really confirm it. Even though I know. I need to talk to him.”

“Can I…” Subin scoots her chair closer to you again, the legs pushed against the legs of your chair. “Can I ask what you saw? Why you think that…that Jungkook was having an affair? And what does it…” She softly trails off, her voice clearly unsure.

“And what it has to do with Haru?” You finally face your friend with sad, blood shot eyes. “He was with herwhen Haru was supposed to get p-picked up.” You continue to stare at Subin, her heart breaking when she sees how you try to hold back tears. “Isn’t it crazy that I know that? That I know about Haru? But I don’t fucking…” You stop when your throat burns too much, words refusing to leave your mouth. You fight through it regardless and finish what you are saying with broken words and a broken heart. “B-But I don’t f-fucking know him?”  

Subin eyes you with pity and you’re sure you’ve received this all before.

“I remember seeing them together. Multiple o-occasions.” You admit to your friend, voice shaky. “It’s hard to tell though…from my memory if it was in person or pictures, videos, I don’t know. I know I confronted him and he just…” Your expression twists miserably. “He could n-never prove to me that my assumptions weren’t—weren’t right.”

“But that doesn’t me—”

“—M-Motel rooms…so many f-fucking secrets, Subin.” You finally properly choke on your words because of a quiet sob in your throat. “A pregnancy test?”

“A what?” Subin’s face falls, “A preg—no, maybe you—”

“As much as I want to believe Jungkook w-wouldn’t…” You slam your eyes shut and finally, several warm tears manage to fall from your closed lids. “But there is so much evidence against him and he could n-never fucking prove...”

“Okay, okay.” Subin’s sweet voice turns even more soothing, her hand returning to your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, y/n.” She whispers, “Seriously…I wish this wasn’t…”

“No,” You straighten up again, your hands desperately wiping at your face. “I won’t mourn y-yet when I haven’t talked to Jungkook.” 

Because somehow…even with your bones screaming the truth at you.

You still want to believe in him.

At least until you are forced not to.

~~~

Subin parks right in front of your house, her worried eyes going between you and Jungkook’s car that is also parked here. 

“We left for the grocery store and came back emptyhanded…” Subin nibbles her lips, her concern growing. “What if he’s like ‘why don’t you have my chips?’ or something…” 

You slowly turn your head to eye Subin, eyes narrowing at her before you deadpan, “Then I’ll just ask him why he cheated on me.” 

Subin’s mouth immediately falls open.

“Or something.” You say before unbuckling your seatbelt. “Anyway, thanks for taking me to the hospital…might end up there again,” You glance out the window towards your home. “Depending how this conversation goes…” 

“y/n…” Subin’s hand lands on your shoulder, stopping you from opening the passenger door to get out, “I just…want to say again how sorry I feel…” Her hand slowly drops when she notices your distant gaze and then she quietly clears her throat. “I hope it’s not what you think but regardless…I’m here for you.”

You finally meet her eye and you can see her sincerity but the best you can do for her right now is give her a small nod of appreciation before you’re opening the door. 

And even though the car door feels heavier than you recall, you still get it open. But your body almost refuses to move. Once again, your brain is sending signals. Telling your body not to go in there. Because you won’t like it. Your brain, mocking you again. Keeping secrets from you because it’s playing some kind of sick and twisted game. 

You’d think your brain was helping you, because of all the signals, but you know that isn’t the case. You know it’s just trying to get a scare out of you because why else would it keep your memories away if not to play with you?

“Hey,” Subin calls out softly, “You can do this…”

And she’s right. You can.

~

Walking through your front door, you have to keep reminding yourself silently over and over to stay strong. Though the urge to break down, falling to the floor while misery consumes you wholly is strong but you don’t. Because you can’t. It would be a bit premature to have the full on meltdown your body is begging for because you still need to face Jungkook.

The moment you close the front door and begin slipping your shoes off, your nose is suddenly invaded with a savory aroma. You glance up, eyes in the direction of the kitchen when you finally realize Jungkook must be cooking. It smells good, you guess. But no matter what is cooking in the kitchen, it’s not good enough to take away any of the pain you are currently feeling.

“y/n?” You hear your name being called. Jungkook’s voice is one you’re used to, one you find comfort in, one you love—so why did you flinch? Why is your body warning you? Signals from your brain again? That fucking dickhead brain of yours. You stand up straight again, eyes still in the direction of the kitchen when you try to take one long, deep breath. 

“y/n!” You flinch again. Frozen in your spot, unable to make your feet mood forward. You stare at the wall ahead and anticipate Jungkook turning the corner and seeing you. You anticipate seeing his face and you anticipate the instant dread you will feel upon seeing him. 

“y/n!” He sings your name cutely this time. 

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

You finally let out an incredibly shallow breath because Jungkook finally appears from the kitchen, his face lit up in excitement when he meets your eye. 

“Hey!” He walks towards you, his hand sliding across the top of the sofa as he gets closer, his eyes glancing around. “Subin in the bathroom or something?”

You need to breathe.

“—Well, since you’re making me my favorite homemade cookies,” He continues chatting with a grin, excited glint so obvious in his eyes. “Which are a dessert. I figured I could make dinner.” He turns to look towards the kitchen, sheepish expression on his face. “I’ve made this dish a hundred times but…” He turns to meet your eye again, his hand lifting to scratch the back of his neck, “Only after we were married. So it will be new for you. But um,” He looks down, sheepish smile still on his face. “It’s actually Haru’s favorite.” 

You haven’t moved a single muscle. 

You haven’t said a word.

You have barely had an audible breath.

Still, Jungkook looks happy in his own world when he brings up your son.

Your son that you can’t even remember. 

“I figure I could share some more stories tonight…about us, Haru…” Jungkook keep his eyes on his feet, still scratching the back of his neck. Almost looking shy. “Well, of course if you think you c…could…” Jungkook trails off when he finally lifts his eyes towards you but he isn’t met with same you that left for the store a few hours ago. He’s met with a you that he almost recognizes. Like he’s seen this expression before. On the you, that only he really knows.

“y/n?” His brows slightly pinch together, confusion draping over his features. “Are you…” He glances around again, “Where’s Subin? And where’s the things from the store?” 

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

You didn’t realize you were capable of being a coward.

You want to move your feet. You want to open your mouth to speak. Hell, you want to blink. But you aren’t capable of anything. Except being a fucking coward. 

Because you are afraid. You’re terrified. For more reasons than you can count. 

You’re imprisoned, once again.

“Hey,” Jungkook studies your face, his concern evident. “What’s going on?” 

Feeling a bit hesitant, Jungkook still walks closer to you. His concern only growing because you still don’t move, you still don’t make a sound, you still stare at him with wide eyes. 

You stare at him and you only have one repeated thought that wanders around in your head. How easy would it be? How easy would it be to live ignorantly? The thing you have always refused to do. How easy would it be? How easy would it be to pretend your ‘memories’ are just theories that you brain is throwing out for fun? How easy to only trust Jungkook. And not yourself. 

“y/n…” Jungkook’s eyes fill with worry. “Are you…” He lifts a hand towards you and you watch as it rises towards your face but your entire body jolts when you hear a loud slapping sound. Your dry lips finally part and you’re blinking repeatedly. You shoot your eyes to Jungkook’s face, only to see his expression completely twisted. 

He stands frozen in front of you, hand still hangs in the air as his eyebrows pull together and his jaw hangs slack. 

Your eyes go from his face to his hand when you lower your eyes to stare at your own hand.

You slapped his hand away. 

Your brain sent signals to your body and that was the result.

So, no. To answer your question—it wouldn’t be fucking easy.

You both stand here, shocked by your own action. 

Jungkook’s confusion only grows deeper, his hand slowly lowering to his side again when he takes a small step back. “Oh.” He says softly, the hurt is in his voice and it makes you wince. Or cringe. You aren’t sure which. 

You try to open your mouth so words can force their way out but instead you notice the feeling of pins and needles start to poke at your skin. Your fingers, your toes, your lips. Confused, you bring your fingers to your mouth, fingers barely grazing over your bottom lip where it tingles uncomfortably. You drop your hand, curling your fingers in and out as you try to make sense of what’s happening. 

You stare down at yourself, your chest rising and falling quickly.

When did you start breathing again?

And when did you start breathing this rapidly?

You glance around, feeling trapped because you’re sure this room is closing in on you. Everything is beginning to feel close and suffocating, like the walls are inching closer and closer, caging you in so you can suffer. Harsh, heavy breaths are pushing past your lips now. Panicked eyes going everywhere but Jungkook. Your throat…it’s closing in on you. Just like your walls. Your throat is growing smaller and smaller, your hands quickly flying to your neck and chest, as you touch yourself desperately. 

“y/n.” Jungkook is in front of you again, his eyes totally focused on you and his worried eyes grow antsier. “Hey, what is happening?” His voice sounds rushed, panicked even. “Talk to me.”

You can’t talk though. You can’t swallow your own spit. You can’t even breathe. 

“y/n.” Jungkook reaches for you again, both his hands on your arms but you flinch immediately, your blown out eyes landing on him when you shove him off.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You scream out, voice shrill and uneven. “D-Don’t fucking touch me, Jungkook.” You take several wobbly steps back, your breaths still rough and rapid. 

Jungkook’s hands hang in the air, holding nothing but the ghost of your body he once knew. 

His eyes are boring into the empty space and you see how utterly hurt he looks. 

But you don’t have it in yourself to feel compassion for his confusion. Because right now, you only see Nabi’s face in your mind, along with Jungkook’s right next to her. 

You wish you could control how your mind and body are feeling right now because if it were up to you, you would be calm and confronting Jungkook with ease because you are supposed to trust him. But you can’t control your anxiety, your panic or your dread.

Slowly lowering his arms, Jungkook tries to find your eyes with his and you notice the fear plaguing them. “y/n…” He tries your name, the word falling soft and cautious from his lips. “What’s going on?”

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, tingly lips and fingers making you feel even more strange as quick breaths force their way out of you. You need to relax. Fucking relax. You need to get it together so you can dismiss the images in your brain and fall into the arms of the man in front of you because you love him and you trust him. That’s right. Get this conversation over with so you can move on. Because surely, your brain is wrong.

“Um,” You pry your eyes open but your vision is a bit blurry from unfallen tears. “Okay…” You take several deep breaths, trying your hardest so you’ll be able to speak.

“Take your time.” Jungkook says in a whisper. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

You will be okay. You hope.

“Jungkook.” Your chest still rises and falls with each deep breath. “I-I have to…” You pause, tongue darting out to lick your dry lips. “I…I ran into Nabi at the store.”

Your words aren’t rushed as you say them, in fact, everything feels slow. Even Jungkook’s eyes widening and the fear inside them only grow fiercer seems to happen slowly. Like, the world around you is in slow motion until suddenly it’s not. Jungkook’s eyes quickly shoot down to the wooden floors as you see his mind working in overdrive.

“I know who she is.” You find the courage to say, “I ran into her before…she s-seemed familiar. But today, I suddenly got mem—”

“—What did you see?” Jungkook quickly looks at you again, panic written all over his face. “You probably didn’t—”

“—Did you cheat on…did you ch…” You stop, the words too painful as they sit on your tongue like a knife slicing it apart. “J-Jungkook were you having an—”

“—No!” Jungkook suddenly walks closer to you, his hands desperate to reach for you but he doesn’t. Perhaps, he’s afraid you’ll slap them away again. “Fuck, y/n, I—”

You see his anxiety clear as day and somehow it only makes you feel worse. Your breaths grow slower and something close to despair throws its arms around you and holds you close. “Jungkook,” You don’t want to ask it. You don’t want the answer. “Were…were you with her when Haru was taken?”

Jungkook’s rolls his lips until they’re set in a firm line across his face, his eyes closing for a brief moment and you notice regret sticking to him. 

“Were you?” You repeat.

He opens his eyes again and with a quiet voice, he finally responds. “Yes.”

You suck in a sharp breath, but you try to remain as calm as possible. “Okay.” You give a curt nod, “And…have you gone to motels with her?”

He glances up briefly,  jaw clenching, “Yes.”

A stab to your chest, “Okay. B-Before Haru was taken…were…” Your throat burns like acid sticks to the walls, “Were we having problems in our m-marriage?”

Jungkook’s expression twists, scrunching in panic, perhaps. “Yes.” He admits with a shaky voice. 

You give a small nod before asking the question that makes or breaks this. “Were you seeing her because of a case?”

Jungkook immediately looks at you, wide, panicked eyes and you see how they fill with tears. His mouth drops open but only a shallow breath comes out. You wait for his answer. Need his answer. He quickly shuts his mouth, head turning to the side as you see him struggle to even look at you now, “No.” He finally says, the word pushed out as if he was in agony. And maybe he is. 

He said no. 

And just like that, you have your answer. Just like the past, he offers nothing more to ease your mind. No proof that there isn’t an affair happening. You stare at him. Lips parted and eyes blinking slowly. 

Your breaths are calm. But you feel weak. Like his simple answer drained every bit of life out of your body. You almost wish you could scream, cry or even through something from the rage that must be inside you. 

But it feels like there is nothing inside you. 

This betrayal only has you feeling empty.

“You…” Your voice cracks, thick tears bubbling over and falling from your eyes. “You were…”

“y/n.” Jungkook finally looks at you again and he sounds terrified. “Please, please, I am begging you, to please trust—”

“—Trust you? Fine.” You cry out, “Tell me exactly what was going on then. Tell—Tell me everything!” You take a step forward, your voice clearly begging. “Explain the fuck-fucking situation, Jungkook. So I can fucking believe you.” 

Jungkook stares at you, confliction in his eyes like how you’ve gotten used to. 

“You can’t, right?” You scoff, tears wetting your warm cheeks. “You couldn’t then either. Y-You just can’t fucking tell me the truth, right?”

Jungkook finally breaks. His lips twisting, eyes shutting in frustration and you see his own tears. “y/n please…” He begs too, his hands going to his face, rubbing his tired eyes. “Fuck, please…you need to just….y/n…please just,” He chokes on his words, a quiet sob in his throat. “I can’t d-do this again, please…I can’t do this y/n.” He cries into his hands. “I fucking can’t. I can’t. Fuck fucking everything.” 

You watch as he cries for himself. Feeling bad for himself. Pity for himself. Instead of being honest with you, he does this. 

“Please trust me. Don’t trust what you’re see—”

“—You’re asking me to trust you but not myself?” You ask in almost disbelief. You might not remember everything but it seems your feelings from that time are still so alive inside you. And that’s what you’re going to trust. “You want me to believe you but not believe prior accident me? That d-doesn’t sit right with me.” You tell him. 

“y/n…” He wipes at his eyes and his nose before trying to look at you, eyes afraid and pathetic, “Please don’t do this again…I can’t do this without you again,” He shakes his head, bottom lip quivering. “Please, my love.” 

You take a step back, feeling overwhelmed. “D-Don’t call me that.”

It feels strange to be called that by him. Strange yet familiar. And you thought the oddness that accompanied the term of endearment is because you just aren’t used to it yet. But really it’s because he isn’t supposed to be calling you that. Not anymore.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, not an ounce of pain felt. “You know,” You cry out in a whisper, “I don’t remember everything. But,” You try to speak through your tears. “But this heartache feels all too familiar. You need to leave…”

And somehow the despair in Jungkook’s eyes and the terror and look of defeat on his face also feel all too familiar. 

Because you have both been through this before already.

~~~

It’s been a week since running into Nabi and confronting Jungkook. A week since you’ve cried. A week since you’ve felt anything rumbling inside your body. A week since you’ve left your house. A week since you’ve ate a proper meal. A week since you’ve felt anything beyond an empty despair. 

Lying in bed at dawn, you lazily poke at Haru’s robot, the cold plastic on your fingertips. You poke it in the chest, over and over, soft yet determined.

“Do you have a heart in there?” You quietly ask it, somehow disappointed when it doesn’t answer you. “You…” You softly grip the toy, bringing it closer to your chest when you sigh out. “You don’t sleep either, right?”

And in the last week, the only one you’ve really talked to is this robot. Haru’s robot. You believe the comfort you feel from talking and holding this toy is because deep down you feel its familiarity with it being your sons. But also, you find yourself relating to this robot. Both empty, skin cold like plastic and neither of you having the ability to sleep. Only the option to ‘shut down’. 

You glance towards the window, the sun rising again like it always does. And you wish it didn’t. You don’t want to see the sun, you don’t want to see any light. How could the world keep on going when for you, personally, it’s ended. 

Your phone has been going off all week, your friends and parents expressing their concern for your quiet mood. Your parents don’t necessarily know what’s going on but Misuk and Subin have a better idea, considering Subin was there for the first half. You have asked for space and you’ve manage to let them know every night that you’re still here. Even when you kind of don’t want to be.

Jungkook hasn’t reached out even once. 

You don’t want to talk to him but the fact that he’s quiet…it feels even more solidifying that he’s guilty. 

And the fact your heart is broken beyond repair and it is so completely familiar to you…tells you he’s been guilty since then.

It hurts. It hurts more than you ever thought possible. Because even with missing memories, you feel how badly this hurts. Even though you don’t fully recall your actual relationship, you feel it. How real it was. How beautiful it was. How tragic it was. 

You can feel the pain as if you actually never forgot it.

And that’s why you’re choosing to trust yourself.

You barely react when your phone goes off, eyes lazily sliding over to the device that lays abandoned on the other side of the bed. You debate checking it. But for whatever reason, you reach for it and see it’s only a text from Misuk asking if you’re free today. 

You aren’t necessarily ready to face anyone quite yet but still, you tell her yes. You have received a few more memories that you’re piecing together like a jumbled up story and you’d like to talk about them.

~

“Are you…” Misuk eyes you over, pity all over her face as she leans back into the sofa, “You know, eating?”

“Sometimes.” You shrug, “I made an iced coffee today if that counts.”

“It doesn’t.” Misuk sighs out, “Why don’t I order us something? Subin should be here any second so I don’t want to ask her to pick something up when she’s this close by.”

“If you’re hungry, sure.” You shrug again. You keep your eyes lowered, fingers picking at your cuticles. 

It’s only a few minutes later when Subin has joined you and Misuk on the couch. Her antsy hands running up and down her thighs as she waits for you to answer her question.

“So?” She softly urges you to respond.

“Yeah,” You reply quietly, eyes on your lap as you look completely detached from the conversation. “My memories were right, I guess.”

You hear Subin release a long breath before she curses, “Shit…”

You shrug, “I guess my miserable life before the accident continues, huh?” You chuckle bitterly, eyes losing focus on anything.

“At first you were.” Misuk whispers, “But lately you had gotten…I don’t know, maybe—”

“—Well, I’m actually probably more miserable than before. Because I have to rediscover everything and feel each little thing…one,” You start picking at your cuticles again, “By one.”

“y/n…” You can hear the pity in Subin’s voice.

“And this time, instead of feeling upset about my probably dead child, I can just feel guilty for not even remembering him. Mother of the year.” You rip back a piece of skin from the corner of your pinky, blood immediately pooling but you don’t care. You move to the next finger. 

“y/n.” Misuk says your name in shock, “You don’t believe that for one second.”

You snap your head up, “Believe what?”

“That Haru is—”

“—I don’t even fucking know him.” You spit out. “And maybe it’s best that I never—”

“—You don’t mean that!” Subin cuts in, a soft disappointment in her voice. “I know this is hard and…” She stops talking when you narrow your eyes at her.

“You know how hard this is? Oh, do you?” Your lips turn up at the corner before you nod your head, “This happened to you before? You know what I’m going through?”

“Hey,” Misuk’s voice is scolding, “You know what Subin means.”

“Do I?” You scoff. “Let’s be honest guys,” You look between the two of them. “Do either of you even know me anymore? Do I even know you anymore? You said it yourself,” You look back down to your hands, “We barely speak anymore.”

“We barely speak because of you.” Misuk points out coldly, “You shut us out. And you’re trying to do it again! Like, wow here we go again.”

Your brow arches, almost looking amused. “Again?” You spit the word out. “Well, sorry Misuk, sorry that things fucking suck and I’m not here smiling for you. Again. I barely recall the first time this all happened and you’re mad I’m fucking reacting. Mad that I’m mad. I’m sad. I’m fucking heartbroken!” You cry out the last line. “I love you but maybe let’s not act like a bitch when neither of you know what the fuck I’m going through, hm?” You raise your brows at her with icy eyes. 

Misuk’s brows furrow but you see something flash across her face. It’s not anger. You don’t even think she’s offended. Instead you see understanding. She slowly nods her head, glancing at Subin before she clears her throat. “Okay, I’m sorry.” She says quietly, “You’re right…you’re totally right and I’m sorry. I guess…” She pauses.

“We just miss you, y/n.” Subin continues for Misuk, “We’re afraid to lose you again. That’s all. But you’re right, you shouldn’t have to act like everything is okay when it’s not.”

Misuk nods, eyes searching for yours, “And it’s not.” She says softly, “I really am sorry.”

You continue to stare down at your lap, lips pressed into one another. 

“If you’re able…why don’t you tell us what you do remember?” Misuk tries to get you to open up again instead of shutting down. You know this. You want to answer…it’s why you let them come over in the first place.

You nod, eyes still lowered. “Okay.”

Subin reaches over and gives your shoulder a squeeze, “Whatever feels manageable. Don’t push yourself too much.”

Finally lifting your eyes towards your friends, you decide to fill them in. “I’ve been remembering a few things.” You admit. “Not actual memories? I don’t know how to explain it. Not…you know, movie scenes in my head but I remember certain things because it’s like…I just know.  Does…does that make sense? No, it probably doesn’t, right?” 

“Like you’re remembering facts rather than images?” Misuk asks and you immediately nod your head quickly.

“Yes!” You say with a bit of enthusiasm. “That’s exactly it. So, basically…just things I know about our—Jungkook and I’s—marriage.”

“Oh.” Subin’s eyes are eager to know more.

“Misuk was right. It was rocky.”

“I knew it.” Misuk curses, “You never really outright said it but…I kind of figured. You never were the type to admit something like that since you’re the type to solve things by yourself.” 

“I guess I didn’t really solve anything.” You feel your body grow heavier. “I asked Jungkook if things were rough before and he admitted that it was. Since then, it’s like little facts are showing up in my brain out of nowhere…like his admission unlocked some part of my memories or something…”

“Were you two just fighting a lot?” Subin asks.

You try to think about it. It’s not like you remember a specific argument but you know the answer is yes. “Yeah.”

“But you think he was having an affair with…” Misuk glances at Subin, “What was her name again?”

“Nabi.” You say. “But our problems were starting before that, I think. I know we were fighting all the time. I just know. I also know he was keeping things from me. He was barely home anymore and I felt…” You chew on your lips, unsure of what exactly it was since you don’t know everything. But one word keeps popping up in your mind. “Unfulfilled.” You say, the word somehow resonating with you like you’ve said it before.

“Yeah.” Misuk agrees quietly, “You mentioned something like that in the past…way before Haru’s kidnapping.”

“Misuk,” You suddenly find her eyes, “Why did I lead you to believe Jungkook was wronging me somehow?”

“You mentioned someone else.” She tells you, “But you didn’t give me any detail. But you were so…sureabout something and I believed you. Your expression.” Misuk frowns, “I knew something serious must have had occurred because I had never seen you like that.”

You glance back down at your lap, your focus on your hands again. “I see.” Then you lift your eyes again, “I remember that at that time I was suspicious of Jungkook. Of the affair. I know I dug deeper and found things that I wish I never had…” You recall the memories that hit you at the market. “Eventually I confronted him and just like now, he was unable to give me an explanation. And I was right.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Misuk huffs out, eyes going to the ceiling. “That’s terr—”

“—And he was with her. When Haru was taken. I don’t know how I know, but he was supposed to be picking Haru up from daycare. I don’t know why I wasn’t able to but I know that it was something I needed from him…something for him to do to make me feel like he was a part of this family. But he failed.” Your words grow quieter with each syllable. “And I know that for the first time in my life,” You stare at nothing, eyes growing watery. “That I hated someone. With my entire being.” 

It's quiet. Neither of your friends having the courage to say anything to your words. 

You try to clear your throat and blink back any tears in your eyes before looking at them again, “But still, so much doesn’t make sense and there’s so much still missing.” You feel your heart grow weaker as you chuckle humorlessly, “And Jungkook hasn’t tried to reach out to me even once…which just feels like more proof.” 

“I can’t imagine Jungkook even looking at someone who isn’t you…” Subin whispers, “He…well, I guess we don’t ever really know what goes on. I find it hard to hate him but seeing what he’s done to—"

“—I know I truly hated him then.” You cut her off with a shaky voice. “And I think I hate him now, too. But,” You search both of your friends eyes with desperation so depressing, “If I hate him this much it’s because I also,” You choke, “Love him this much too, right?” You ask the question so innocently and delicately as your voice cracks.

 You let yourself feel your own question and for the first time since a week ago—you cry. You let tears fall and you let your body break. “Because—Because I do. I love him so much that its hurting me. I…I can’t even b-breathe because I love him. I can’t—can’t sleep because I love him.” You shoulders shake as you sob loudly. Almost like a child. “I can’t remember my own child be—because I love him.” You slam your eyes shut, mouth hung open as you choke on your sobs. “My brain c-can’t show my memories because I love him. He’s—he’s the only thing my b-brain wants to think about.” 

At a loss for words, Misuk and Subin feel their hearts breaking in their chests. This is more devastating than the first time. They realize, you were right, this is more miserable.

~~~

It’s been three weeks since Jungkook has seen you. Since he’s seen you, his light. The only thing in this entire world that could possibly make him feel alive. The only thing in the entire universe that could make his heart beat again. You’re the only one keeping him from going insane or ending his own life. He had always held onto the hope that one day this will be behind you guys. 

And then he can touch you again, hold you again, openly love you again.

But mostly, for you to love him again. 

His apartment is how it always is, TV blaring with the news on. The blueish light illuminates his entire living room and lately it has been his only source of light. You, his true source, no longer rising in his sky. 

It’s around four in the afternoon when Jungkook’s phone starts going off, the vibrating making his coffee table buzz. He rubs his eyes with a fist before setting his nearly empty beer bottle down to the table and reaching for the device.

Jimin.

Jungkook rolls his eyes before answering, “I told you to leave me alone.” He slurs into the phone.

“Are you fucking drunk again?” Jimin doesn’t hide his disapproval. “Going to pull this shit again, Jungkook?”

“Fuck off, Jimin.” Jungkook brings the phone away from his face and ends the call. 

Not even ten seconds pass before his phone is buzzing again in his hands. He groans loudly as he answers it again, “What the fuck do you—”

“—Just fucking listen, you moron.” Jimin cuts in, “I’m already risking everything by being in contact with you. And now you’re back to your old ways.” He scoffs, “If you fuck this up, I swear I’ll come to your shit apartment and kick your ass myself.”

Jungkook drunkenly chuckles into the phone, “You don’t have to help—”

“—Help you?” Jimin scoffs again, “I’m not doing this for you and you know it.”

“Whatever,” Jungkook grumbles while reaching for his beer again and taking a swig, “What do you want?”

“Lee Jaesung.” Jimin says.

Immediately Jungkook leans forward on his couch, something more serious falling over his face before he asks, “What about him?”

“Well, he was the only thing getting us closer to this shit.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook sets the beer down again, “Does he have new information?”

“He’s dead.” Jimin informs with a bite to his tone, “Guy was found in his apartment. Apparent suicide.”

Jungkook grits his teeth, “Fucking bullshit.” 

“I know.” Jimin sighs, “You’ve been MIA and I need you to get your shit together if we’re going to—”

“—Count me out.” Jungkook slurs into the phone, “I’m done.”

Jimin is quiet for a moment before he’s chuckling into the phone, “You’re really back to this, huh? You’re sad, Jungkook. I told you years ago you were going to ruin your marriage. Didn’t I?”

Jungkook grips the edge of the couch cushion, eyes growing darker as he watches the bright TV screen. “Shut up.” He seethes, “Don’t bring up—”

“—You ruined your entire life you fucking drunk.” Jimin spits at him, “Fix your shit then call me.”

Jungkook keeps the phone to his ear despite the fact that Jimin has hung up. It slides down his cheek and eventually falls to the floor as he continues to stare at the bright screen of his TV. He is here again. And it’s not like he can’t not believe that he’s back to this because it never feels like he ever wasn’t like this. This is just who he is now. It’s the him that he knows. And when you woke up knowing the him he used to know…it almost felt like he could be that person again.

Having to tell you about Haru again…heartbreaking.

But having to see you experience that same betrayal and heartache…pure utter torture.

Jungkook drunkenly reaches for the TV remote and shuts it off, the room going completely dark. His closed blinds and heavy drapes block out the sun that isn’t you. He is in darkness because in his life there is no light.

Because you aren’t here anymore.

~

“Yes, well, believe it or not…” You sigh into your phone, small smile on your lips. “I’m actually getting out of the house today.” 

“To eat a real meal?” Misuk asks knowingly.

“Kind of?” You laugh. “I’m in the mood for coffee but like, not from my coffee pot.” 

Misuk tsks, “Fine. But at least buy a cookie or something too.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You tell her, “I found a cute café not too far away. Not a full menu place with servers like the one Subin likes—not that she even wants to go there anymore—but this place is like a little hole in the wall. Good reviews too.”

“I wish I could ditch work and join you.” She whines, “But I’ll have to stick to break room coffee.”

“Sounds horrible.”

“Oh, it is.” She laughs, “But okay. I hope you enjoy the café.”

“Me too,” At this point you hope you enjoy anything.

But the world is still dark.

And you’re hoping a nice outing with a good caffeinated drink could offer a little shining light in this complete darkness that consumes you. Even if it’s temporary. 

“I’ll talk to you later, Misuk.” You say before you’re both hanging up.

You look ahead, eyes on the building in front of you. You didn’t tell Misuk you’re actually already here but too afraid to get out of your car and walk inside. You aren’t sure why you’re afraid. Maybe it’s because it’s your first real outing since memories started coming to you. Maybe you’re afraid the more places and people you see, it will trigger more to unlock.

And you’re afraid of more truths that you wish would stay hidden would reveal themselves.

It’s hard but you finally manage to get out of your car and force your legs to take you inside. But the moment you step inside and you’re greeted with the smell of coffee and baked good, you immediately relax. 

It’s not a busy place at all. It’s small maybe the size of your living room and kitchen combined. Just a long counter with cookies, cakes and breads that smell delicious and an artsy menu board hanging on the back wall with a long list of drinks. And along one of the walls and all the windows is small, round tables with chairs. 

You take a breath before walking to the counter and a girl with bright eyes greets you with a heartwarming grin. When you tell her you’ve never been, she happily gestures to the menu and begins telling you all her favorite drinks. And she claims you must try their chocolate cookies.

“Hm,” You weigh all your options, feeling tempted by the lavender tea she mentioned. “Okay yeah, I’ll get that.”

“And a cookie too?” She smiles.

You can’t help but chuckle, it’s as if Misuk told this girl to ask you that. “Sure, a cookie too.”

“Okay!”

After you pay, the girl motions towards a wall with a bookshelf, “Feel free to browse. I’ll have you order up soon and I’ll call for you.” 

“Thanks.” You smile.

You decide to take her up on it, eyes browsing this bookshelf while your fingers brush against the spines. There’s some books you recognize and a ton that you don’t. You can tell which books are popular and which aren’t—the dust giving it away.

After several minutes of looking over book titles, the girl calls you over since your drink and cookie are ready. You excitedly go to the counter, hands reaching for the items and your nose is being blessed. You can tell this cookie is about to change your world.

“Thanks!” You say before excitedly and quickly turning around to find a table when you literally run into someone. This needs to stop happening to you. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if—

“Ah, Hot! Hot!” An unexpected voice yelps, “Hooooooooly shit, that’s hot!”

“Oh my god, I am so sorry.” You stare at a broad chest, a button up shirt completely soaked as you begin to panic. “Are you—Are you okay?”

The man in front of you starts airing his shirt out, trying his best for the hot liquid to not burn his chest, you’re sure. “Ooooooh,” He whistles out, “That hurts.”

“Oh my god…I’m…I am so so—”

“—No worries,” He starts laughing, still airing the shirt. “It kind of feels like that first moment when you get under a hot shower.” 

You stare at his chest, completely panicked…he’s not going to press charges, right? Is that a thing? You could have seriously burned him! “Are you okay? Seriously—” You finally rip your eyes from his shirt to get a look at him. 

“Seriously,” He laughs more, “I’m okay.”

You gaze at him, his smile is spread across his face while he looks down at his shirt now.

“Good thing I keep extra shirts at work.” He says before glancing back up and locking eyes with you. “No harm here.”

You feel guilt sink it. “Oh my god, I hope I didn’t ruin your shirt…will it stain?” 

“You’re worried about this shirt?” He laughs loudly while his eyes crinkle cutely. “Wow, my mom would be so happy that at least someone cares about this thing. It was a Christmas present…and I’m pretty sure it was actually meant for my brother.”

You can’t help but snort, “Oh.”

“Literally only wearing it because I’m hoping something will happen to it and I can finally have a reason to throw it away.” He smiles, “And finally,” He looks up at the ceiling and pumps the air with his fists, “I can get rid of it!” 

You watch him, unsure if he’s serious or just trying to make you feel better. But either way…it does make you feel better.

“Is it still hot?” You find yourself asking, eyes back on his wet chest.

“Nah,” He waves you off with a goofy grin, “Now it’s sort of just sticking to me uncomfortably and it’s cold now.”

“Oh.” You suddenly feel bad again.

“Which is great because the sun is unforgiving today, don’t you think? So hot.” He begins fanning himself, grin still on his face before he glances down to the package in one of your hands. “Is that a chocolate chip cookie? Those are the best here!”

You look down, “Oh…oh yeah. Um, it is.”

“You should probably eat it, maybe you’ll finally smile. They’re that good.” He winks at you, “Or if you drowning in guilt over here, you could always let me have a piece too and we can call this whole,” He motions between you both, “thing even.” 

You stare at him for a moment, completely taken aback by his energy. He’s still smiling and it feels infectious, like you want to smile too.

And you do.

Though it is small and timid. You do.

In all this overwhelming darkness that has wrapped its arms around you, suffocating you in an unwanted embrace…all you really need right now in your life is some sort of light getting shed so you can finally see something besides your own despair. 

You just need some light. 

And little do you know that a bright, bright light is coming into your life.

And that light has a name.

And he goes by Kim Seokjin.

~

Next

[originalaccountname]

There are some posts I've seen floating around that at the start Dazai may not of known that Chuuya wasn't a vampire which I kind of agree with. I'm at work currently so I cant double check but when he goes "that's a nasty trick you've pulled fydor" im pretty sure its in his thoughts?? To which why would he think that if he knew the whole time. I think dazai must of caught onto the fact Chuuya was faking it at somepoint but not sure when that would of been. Also at the end of the ep Dazai said he didn't have a plan. (I did watch the episode at just after 2am my time when it came out and then fell asleep afterwards so my memory could be not correct). I do think chuuya not being a vampire at all is a little disappointing tbh but this idea softens the blow. Would like to know your thoughts on this idea if you are open to sharing?

I'm in that category too, yes. I've left a few tags saying basically the same thing on some posts.

First, there are a few things the anime didn't answer (more than failing to justify Chuuya faking it since the start, there's Sigma's case about needing to help the ADA, which... didn't happen at all) so either we haven't seen the repercussions of this arc yet, or we got the shortened version of what the manga will offer. Which could work either way. (not ideal necessarily, but besides huffing what can we do huh)

Dazai not knowing though! Dazai did admit to his "plan" being to mostly adapt on the fly and trust his allies to help him back. He implied this prison break was one big trust fall. But that's how I've always interpreted Dazai's way of planning! I even made a post about it a full year ago!

Since Dazai knows Chuuya slowed down the elevator (which I can accept, Dazai's ability shouldn't affect random objects he touches, and Fyodor had told Chuuya through a comm to go finish off Dazai because he wasn't in the room), I assume that by then he was aware. Maybe not before though. Definitely not at first. Because this?

I refuse to believe was entirely scripted. Why is he acting? For Sigma? For corpses? I'm of the opinion that no matter what is going on through Dazai's head, his expressions are always genuine (ex: he might react with surprise at something he completely expected, if only because of how sudden it was, or when/how it ended up happening. Here? genuine distress.)

And I extend that feeling to Dazai having an emotional moment, complete with flashbacks, while "drowning" Fyodor and Chuuya. He did say he wasn't expecting to kill them that way, but perhaps it really was a moment of weakness triggered by concern or guilt.

I can accept Dazai having caught on during his face-off with Chuuya. That's Mr I-know-your-breathing-patterns we have here, so if they didn't high-five after the elevator crash-landing (still broke Dazai's leg), I would say Dazai knows physics enough to go "hold on" and connect the dots. So yes, that baiting of Chuuya, the light taunting, the bratty attitude he only really has with Chuuya, the angry YELLING and insults when Chuuya shot him in the shoulder? The destiny talk? Yeah I can re-contextualize those as Dazai over-acting his part. And then not being able to shut up after being shot in the head.

Maybe there's some reaching here, maybe this will not be totally accurate to the source material. But Asagiri does have a habit to write scenes from an outsider pov while knowing whats happening in the characters' heads and behind the scene, but then not give us that input directly. Never before today was it confirmed that Dazai improvises a lot in his plans. And yet! That's something I've believed in for a very long time.

This all could very well be covering Asagiri's poor decisions, but between this being the adaptation and bsd being an unfinished story, I have a hard time deciding at the moment how much of a poor decision this was. Maybe it's worth a raised eyebrow. Maybe it deserves some criticism in hope the author takes notes. Maybe this was an anime-original resolution due to time constraints (think of the Fifteen final fight). I can only raise concerns for now, and wait.

[cluescorner]

Canto 6 was incomplete

Literally why are we there? Like, we just go to a manor that's in t-corp I guess. But why are we there? We've got another Heathcliff and he's cool but he just shows up pissed off for no reason and then we leave? Weird af. Nelly, Linton, and Josephine were cool and Hindley...existed. But it's a weirdly low number of supporting characters, and I guess that 1 really important and cool one could have made up for it but that didn't happen. Even the Mili song felt incomplete, like only 1/2 of it was there! Such an odd choice to make at the halfway mark for our 12 sinners. It just feels like a lot of stuff was missing and it's really sad because I was excited for Heathcliff's canto.

[rad-roche]

Dead Woman Walking, Chapter 5/15

(x)

[strawhattery]

happy frUIday ☺️🎉

[campbyler]

PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU WHAT TIME IS CHAPTER FOUR COMING OUT BECAUSE CRUEL SUMMER HAS BEEN STUCK IN MY HEAD FOR A WEEK AND I NEEEEEED IT

hi there! we’ve gotten a lot of asks like this in anticipation of Chapter Four Day and we love the enthusiasm and are flattered you guys are so excited !! <3 unfortunately it’s hard for us to give an exact time for chapter drops — more than like. maybe a couple hours in advance? — including ch4 :/ all three of us are super super busy during the day so we can’t often promise a time and be able to stick to it (chapters 2 and 3 were posted Literally the second andi and i could step away from work on a break) but rest assured thea is hard at work on finishing up and making sure it’s good to go! i would MAYBE expect it sometime around late evening-ish EST but don’t hold me to that bc we take editing and fine tuning very seriously 🤸we will let you know before it happens though so you can be on the lookout 🫡 for anyone who might miss it tonight because of time differences or the woes of being Sleepy, just know you’ll wake up to a brand new shiny chapter of acswy tomorrow morning 💞💞 we think you guys are going to enjoy this one :)

[maddymoreau]

I love this running gag of Huggy Wuggy munching on a human arm ꉂ (˃̶᷄‧̫ॢ ˂̶᷅๑ )

It was referenced in the first Merch Drop video

And now the Project: Playtime Cinematic Trailer

[voulezloux]

.

[mostofourtownismissing]

Preview of the first page of Chapter 4: "Nowhere Bound" which I've just started editing.

Arson Andrias is BAEL's annoying super fan who calls in nearly every day and seems to be one of the few things on the planet that Perry has zero patience for.

[clefairytea]

So I’m about to make a completely insane post. Excuse me.

So I got this comment on Peaks and Valleys the other day, on the chapter where Blue is in the airport and has to put all his Pokemon in holding.

Grabs this anon’s shoulders. I thought about this. I thought about this a lot. I went back and forth on it during this chapter so much.

And I actually concluded that the airline security does not necessarily imply this. While a lot of our real-world flight security was considerably tightened and comes as a direct result of 9/11, I don’t think that’s the case here.

I think this is actually much more mundane safety concerns. Even an incredibly well-trained and well-behaved Pikachu, if surprised by a bout of turbulence, might let off some static. That’s going to interfere with the equipment and make things unsafe.

What about the incredibly variable size and shape of pokemon - what happens if some kid releases Mom’s Nidoqueen or Wailord in the middle of a flight? That’s a big and heavy pokemon to suddenly have in an enclosed space where weight of cargo has to be well accounted for.

Even if you bring a small Pokémon, evolution could happen really suddenly - especially due to environmental effects. Imagine someone’s got their cute little Tyrunt next to them on the flight, it sneaks a rare candy or something, and next thing you know there’s a massive 600lbs Tyrantrum to deal with.

What about the effects on the pokemon themselves - moving quickly at high altitudes between different places and weather patterns is probably going to make a Castform kind of sick and out of sorts.

Pokeball locking, enforcing Everstone use, or having specific regulations about what Pokémon can go on flights and what can’t. Those could be feasible solutions but would also require a lot of overhead. There’s hundreds of different Pokemon, the average flight holds about 200 people, every single person could carry up to 6 pokemon with them. That’s a LOT of SOPs and guidelines to write, a lot of things to check, potentially a lot of things for passengers to get done (I didn’t consider this at the time because it was pre-Scarvio, but Everstones can only be bought in ScarVio at 3000 yen a pop - otherwise they have to be found in the wild. That’s an expensive and annoying thing to source for either passengers or the airline).

The most effective solution - short of forcing everyone to put their pokemon in boxes to get on the other end (and box software varies by region potentially causing complication, a lot of people would really resist this, etc), is just to securely hold all Pokémon in the same way apart from the human passengera until the end of the flight.

In conclusion: never think I didn’t excessively think about the implications of Pokemon air travel in my gay fanfic. I am insane and I did.

[blacktabbygames]

Slay the Princess Concept Art

We shared a bunch of concept art on Twitter today. Sharing it here, too, where you can find it all in one post. Post contains spoilers, so proceed with caution (or just play the game already if you haven't 😉)

Going to start with the first piece of concept art Abby drew for the game.

In the earliest stages of development, we toyed around with the concept of there being multiple "end game" forms of the Princess.

The initial outline, rather than being tied together by an overarching metanarrative, structured a full playthrough as a 5-6 chapter long, self-contained journey down a single route, determined by your decisions in chapter 1. Here's an alternative late-game form:

The idea of deviating end-game forms didn't lost for very long, though. As we explored the game's themes more deeply, it made the most sense for there to be a singular "true" form.

If your reality is shaped by subjectivity and perception, then the "truth" has to be what's left when that subjectivity is swept away. the Shifting Mound's final design feels like that initial truth for the Princess, though there's also another truth if you push back against her and press on into the final cabin.

We really liked this "void" design, and I played around with the idea of it being an intermediary to the final form. The "void" Princess would be what you saw upon encountering the final Princess without understanding your own truth, but once you had that understanding, you would see her as the Shifting Mound, as depicted in the game.

That gave way to the intermediary design of the SM being a sea of disembodied limbs, and we also took parts of both designs and incorporated them into the protagonist (particularly the wings.) You can see the eyes and feathers for this void form in the ending card of the original trailer below:

You can see extremely early concept art for the spectre (top), nightmare (top-right), stranger (left), beast (bottom) and ??? (right) as well!

The eyes became a motif in the Nightmare route (Paranoid's manifestation of the fear of being watched), but I also like to think of them as a part of The Long Quiet's truth. You are space and emptiness, but you're also that which observes those things, and it's your perceptions that give the Shifting Mound shape.

Anyways, on the note of the original original concepts for the game, the Princess was initially going to remain human for several loops before taking on more monstrous forms. Some concepts of that are below. Had to get Abby to tone down some of the more horrifically cartoonish designs because they creeped me out and I didn't want to romance them in a video game.

We had to hold our cards close to our chest in the non-metanarrative early drafts, which is part of why, even in the first demo, the cabin doesn't really change much in chapter 2. More room to subtly play with the concept of transformation over time.

There were a lot of reasons we moved in a different direction for the full release. The branching was unmanageably large to write, and the game felt like a slog to write.

Using an overarching narrative as a framing mechanism in the final version gave us a lot more freedom to explore wildly divergent ideas within routes while still driving the player towards the originally planned finale.

Anyways, now we've got some concept art for individual princesses. There's a lot more than this lying around somewhere, but it's all in sketchbooks, and we'll probably wait until we make an art book to show it off.

First is the tower, who really didn't change much at all. (She got a little thicker, I guess. All of the Princesses did)

Not a lot to say about her, other than the fact that we knew we wanted a set piece where she gets so big that the trees and cabin orbit around her.

The stranger went through many many redesigns over the course of development. Here, she was a "princess skin" filled with a hive of sentient bugs. The script wasn't working for me, though, so instead she became a peak behind the curtains without the necessary context to know her.

A lot of people ask how these earlier drafts of the Stranger route would have played out, and the answer is I can't tell you, because I couldn't figure out something worth writing.

The writing process for individual routes didn't really start with outlines or plot beats. Rather, the routes started from a theme and a relationship dynamic, and I organically found their outcomes by exploring actions within those themes, and then seeing if those passed Abby's editor brain.

Neither of us found actions we wanted to explore with those versions of the Stranger, at least actions that weren't a beat-by-beat retelling of chapter 1, which contained way too much variation to put on a single chapter 2 route.

If each princess examines a relationship formed by perception and first impressions, the Stranger examines one that's fundamentally unknowable. One where you've seen too much, too quickly.

An insect hive-mind pretending to be a person seemed like a good starting point, but it was too difficult to write any interactions that didn't immediately feel knowable, if still strange. So the final version of the Stranger was designed in such a way where her unknowability makes interacting with her on a human level fundamentally impossible, and you don't get to have a real conversation with her unless you satisfy extremely specific criteria.

Anyways next up is the razor's final form. We decided she needed more swords.

Hearts became an accidental motif very quickly in the development process, too. (The fact that it is only strikes to the heart that fell her in the demo was accidental, but it felt poetic so we extended it to the rest of the game.)

So on top of adding more swords, we made her heart visible. This is something we did with the fury as well, as a way of showing their emotional (and physical) vulnerability.

Here's an early version of the Adversary and what would eventually become the Eye of the Needle, back when she was still called the Fury. Originally her hair was going to be fire (as seen on the right), but it didn't feel right in its execution.

She's hit the gym since this concept art. Good for her :)

And we're going to end with the Beast, who at this point was called the Adversary. I think this was before the Witch was added? The Beast was originally designed to be a Questing Beast who lurked in the shadows, where you'd only see glimpses of her, and where each glimpse would make her appear to be a different animal. This was too difficult to execute, though we gave her a more chimera-like appearance in the final game.

This design was from when we still has the Voice of the Obsessed, and the route was going to be a more feral mirror of what eventually became the Adversary, but it felt too thematically similar while being less interesting, so we moved in the direction of making the Beast about consumption as a form of love.

Anyways, that's all we've got for you right now. Hope this was fun!

[end-otw-racism]

End OTW Racism: A Call To Action

A fan protest against the lack of action from the OTW on addressing issues of harassment and racism on AO3 and within the organization

This is a Call To Action for Fans of Color and Allies

AO3 has acknowledged that they have a harassment & racism problem that its parent organization, the Organization for Transformative Works (OTW), needs to address. Currently, people can use AO3 to harass others through fanworks, comments, and tags. Just a few examples include: racist Untamed “spitefic” that used anti-Indigenous slurs and was written specifically to lash out at fans of color; a Transformer fic that used its Black-coded character to reenact George Floyd’s murder in July 2020; someone naming a fandom scholar who criticized their Nazi omegaverse fic in the tags of the fic specifically to incite harassment to the scholar; writers using racial slurs against commenters who pointed out racism in their hockey fic; and so much more.

In June 2020, after the murder of George Floyd, the OTW committed to addressing these issues. It has been nearly three years and they have not yet implemented any of the changes they promised, other than a blocking/muting tool that was already in development before 2020. We need to hold the OTW accountable to their own promises. (See the section further down on “Why Are We Doing This” for even more detail.)

As fans, together, we are powerful. We are organizing to protest the lack of action on promises made by the Organization for Transformative works to deal with issues of racism and harassment on their platform, Archive of Our Own.

We call on fans to do any or all of the following actions any time between May 17 to 31, 2023 to send a message to AO3 and OTW that we will hold them to their promises.

On AO3

Change the title of ten (or more!) of your most recent or most popular fanworks to include ‘End Racism in the OTW’ in the beginning, and provide a link to this post in your summary or first/top creator’s note

Post a new fanwork any time between May 17th to 31st with “End Racism in the OTW” either as the title or at the beginning of the title. The fanwork does not have to be long - it can be a 100-word fic, a quick sketch, a podfic of a ficlet, a 20-second vid/edit, a short piece of meta, etc. In the summary or first/top creator’s note, provide a link to this post

If updating any WIPs with a new chapter, add ‘End Racism in the OTW’ to the title and provide a link back to this post in your summary or first/top author’s note

Update your AO3 icon using the profile pic graphic in our Social Media Toolkit

Plan to maintain these changes until May 31, 2023, or longer if you wish

Send a message to the OTW asking for an update on their 2020 commitments!

For Readers: leave encouraging comments on fanworks with the "End Racism in the OTW" title to show your support of this initiative.

On tumblr

Reblog this Call to Action with the tag #End OTW Racism

Update your profile pics and banners using the graphics in our Social Media Toolkit

Follow this account for updates and signal boost our posts

On Twitter

Follow @/EndOTWRacism (remove the backslash) and signal boost our pinned tweet

Update your profile pics and banners using our graphics, and change your display name to include #EndOTWRacism

Use sample tweets and graphics from our Social Media Toolkit to tweet about your fanworks, and use the hashtag #EndOTWRacism

Help us make this a long-term campaign - sign up to help with other anti-racism projects and future actions!

What Do We Want?

Since their June 2020 statement, OTW has been working on updating their Terms of Service (TOS) to address racist and bigoted harassment, but with little transparency and only the vaguest of updates. It has been three years since their commitment to this update - we want to see the results of their work implemented in the next 6-12 months. Their TOS updates and complementary policies should include:

Harassment policies that can be regularly updated to address both on-site harassment and off-site coordinated harassment of AO3 users, with updated protocols for the Policy & Abuse Team to ensure consistent and informed resolutions of abuse claims

A content policy on abusive (extremely racist and extremely bigoted) content; by abusive, we are talking about fanworks that are intentionally used to spread hate and harassment, not those that accidentally invoke racist or other bigoted stereotypes

These points are not particularly new and are not our own innovation; please refer to Stitch's article written over two years ago, asking for several of these very things.

OTW has also already committed to various process-based actions for longer-term works towards centering antiracism, including hiring a Diversity Consultant. The last update that OTW published said that the consultant would be hired within the next five years (after already having had three years to work on it since their original commitment). That is not soon enough. We want to see the following process-based actions implemented:

Hiring a Diversity Consultant within the next 3-6 months

Committing to a policy of transparency on this topic, with quarterly updates on the progress of these projects including challenges and their plan for overcoming those challenges. These quarterly updates should be published on OTW News page and newsletters, not solely discussed in Board meetings

Why Are We Doing This?

16 years ago, Astolat famously published her manifesto calling for a fandom Archive of One’s Own. In that time, AO3 has grown to be a central pillar of fandom, likely far outstripping its founders’ original vision. It is more than just an archive now; it is a central hub of the modern fannish experience. AO3 and the OTW must continue to grow and evolve with fandom over time to remain a healthy and functioning pillar of fandom. To that end, there are several areas in which the organization, as it admits itself, is lacking.

In June 2020, in the wake of the George Floyd protests and the uprising of the Black Lives Matter Movement, The OTW published a “This Week in Fandom” referencing the works of Dr. Rukmini Pande and Stitch, among others in which they discussed ‘making change for a better society’ through ‘conversations about race and racism’. In response, Dr. Pande and Stitch submitted a letter to the OTW calling for a more formal public statement than an offhand reference in a News Roundup that only served to call for thoughts and discussion without any indication the organization intended to do anything, policy wise, to address the issues being raised.

Eventually, the organization did remove the references to the works of Dr. Pande and Stitch and then made an official statement on the issue of racism within the organization and AO3. In it, they identified several things they would be prioritizing to combat harassment and benefit users. Some of those have been implemented (notably those that were already under development). However as of this writing, little else has been done especially in regards to:

Improving admin tools for the Policy & Abuse team

Reassessing the current mandatory archive warnings with the possibility of implementing others

And, most importantly, reviewing the Terms of Service (TOS) to allow the Policy & Abuse team to address harassment that is currently not covered by the existing TOS

By their own admission, the current tools and policies of the OTW are not sufficient to deal with issues of harassment and racism.

Several people who were involved in the founding of the OTW, including previous OTW Board members and staff on the original OTW Content Policy Committee, acknowledge that the founding of the OTW in 2008 and early board iterations failed us as a fandom by not doing enough, and by not even considering the way racism is perpetuated in fannish spaces, despite a long history of racism in fandom.

It has been nearly three years since the original commitment by the organization with little visible, measurable progress on these three crucial issues and a complete lack of transparency on where they are in regards to even beginning to deal with these issues. In fact, in Q&As, it was heavily implied by a member of the board that those calling for OTW to deal with issues of racism (which OTW had already acknowledged as a problem!) were not really fans but outside agitators.

This has cast significant doubt on the organization's sincerity and commitment to their stated goals, and on their position as leaders of a central fan tent-pole. Fans of color are not outsiders. They are right here, members of our community, and they are being harassed and targeted and driven out while space and platforms are being given to racists.

We, as fans of color and our allies, find the current state of fandom and current actions (and lack thereof) unacceptable. Fandom is our space, all of ours. We, as a fandom, have a right to a racism-free space and have a duty to our fellow fans to create that space. Unlike so much of the world, this is a space we can control and make better. It is a space we must make better. To read even more about this movement, visit our FAQs.

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Why Writers Don't Finish Writing Their Stories, and How to Fix It

Hello fellow writers and storytellers,

The journey of writing a story is an exhilarating adventure, but it's not without its share of obstacles. Many of us have embarked on a creative endeavor, only to find ourselves mired in the struggle to finish what we started. In this blog post, I'll unravel the common reasons why writers don't finish their stories and explore practical strategies to overcome these hurdles and reignite the flame of creativity.

The Perils of Unfinished Stories

As writers, we often find ourselves in the throes of unfinished tales, grappling with the intricate web of characters, plots, and themes. There are several reasons why the ink dries up and the story remains untold. Let's shine a light on the familiar adversaries that stand between us and the triumphant completion of our narratives:

1. Lack of Planning:

Some of us brazenly dive into our stories without a clear roadmap, resulting in uncertainty about the direction of the plot and the fate of our characters. The lack of a solid plan can lead us astray, leaving our stories wandering in the wilderness of aimlessness.

2. Self-Doubt and Perfectionism:

Ah, the relentless whispers of self-doubt and the siren call of perfectionism! These twin adversaries can cast a shadow over our creative vision, compelling us to endlessly revise and perfect the early chapters, trapping us in a whirlpool of perpetual edits.

3. Time Management:

Balancing the demands of daily life with the ardor of writing can be akin to walking a tightrope. The struggle to find consistent time for our craft often leaves our stories languishing in prolonged periods of inactivity, longing for the touch of our pen.

4. Writer's Block:

The mighty barrier that even the most intrepid writers encounter. Writer's block can be an insurmountable mountain, leaving us stranded in the valleys of creative drought, unable to breathe life into new ideas and narratives.

5. Lack of Motivation:

The flame that once burned brightly can flicker and wane over time, leaving us adrift in the murky waters of disillusionment. The initial excitement for our stories diminishes, making it arduous to stay committed to the crafting process.

6. Fear of Failure or Success:

The twin specters that haunt many writers' dreams. The apprehension of rejection and the unsettling prospect of life-altering success can tether us to the shores of hesitation, preventing us from reaching the shores of completion.

7. Criticism and Feedback Anxiety:

The looming dread of judgment casts a long shadow over our creative endeavors. The mere thought of receiving criticism or feedback, whether from peers or potential readers, can cast a cloud over our storytelling pursuits.

8. Plotting Challenges:

Crafting a cohesive and engaging plot is akin to navigating a labyrinth without a map. Faced with hurdles in connecting story elements, we may find ourselves lost in a maze of plot holes and unresolved threads.

9. Character Development Struggles:

Breathing life into multi-dimensional, relatable characters is a complex art. The intricate process of character development can become a quagmire, ensnaring us in the challenge of creating personas that drive the story forward. (Part one of Character Development Series)

10. Life Events and Distractions:

Unexpected events in our personal lives can cast ripples on our writing routines, interrupting the flow of our creativity and causing a loss of momentum.

Rallying Against the Odds: Strategies for Success

Now that we've confronted the adversaries that threaten to stall our storytelling odysseys, let's arm ourselves with strategies to conquer these barriers and reignite the flames of our creativity.

Embrace the Power of Planning:

A clear roadmap illuminates the path ahead. Arm yourself with outlines, character sketches, and plot maps to pave the way for your story's journey.

Vanquish Self-Doubt with Action:

Silence the voices of doubt with the power of progress. Embrace the imperfect beauty of your early drafts, knowing that every word brings you closer to the finish line.

Mastering the Art of Time:

Carve out sacred writing time in your schedule. Whether it’s ten minutes or two hours, every moment dedicated to your craft is a step forward.

Conquering Writer's Block:

Embrace the freedom of imperfection. Write, even if the words feel like scattered puzzle pieces. The act of writing can unravel the most stubborn knots of writer's block.

Reigniting the Flame of Motivation:

Seek inspiration in the wonders of the world. Reconnect with the heart of your story, rediscovering the passion that set your creative spirit ablaze.

Reshaping Fear into Fuel:

Embrace the uncertainty as an integral part of the creative journey. Embrace the lessons within rejection and prepare for the winds of change that success may bring.

Navigating the Realm of Criticism:

Embrace feedback as a catalyst for growth. Constructive criticism is a powerful ally, shaping your story into a work of art that resonates with readers.

Weaving the Threads of Plot:

Connect the dots with fresh eyes. Step back and survey the tapestry of your plot, seeking innovative solutions to bridge the gaps and untangle the knots.

Breathing Life into Characters:

Engage with your characters as if they were old friends. Dive into their depths, unraveling their quirks, fears, and dreams, and watch as they breathe life into your story.

Navigating Life's Tempests:

Embrace the ebb and flow of life. Every pause in your writing journey is a chance to gather new experiences and perspectives, enriching your storytelling tapestry.

The Ever-Resting Pen: Harnessing the Power Within

Fellow writers, the journey of completing a story is filled with peaks and valleys, each offering us the opportunity to sharpen our resolve and unleash our creative potential. As we stand at the crossroads, staring at the canvas of unfinished tales, let's rally against the odds, armed with the power of purpose, passion, and perseverance.

Let the ink flow once more, breathing life into tales left untold, and watch as your stories triumphantly reach their long-awaited conclusion. You possess the power to conquer the adversaries that stand in your way, and within you lies the essence of untold narratives waiting to unfurl onto the page.

Here's to the journey that lies ahead, the stories waiting to be written, and the unyielding spirit of creativity that thrives within each of us.

Warm regards and unwavering encouragement, Ren T.

[redgoldsparks]

I wrote a 12 page epilogue to my 2019 comic "Harry Potter and The Problematic Author" because I found, in 2023, that I had more to say. You can also find this comic on my website, and I have PDF copies available on etsy. I may sell print copies at some point in the future.

instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my book / redbubble

Full transcript below the cut.

PAGE 1

Part one: Ruddy Owls!

I was in fourth grade when the first Harry Potter Book was released in the US.

Panel 1: Sometimes our teacher would read it aloud in class. “Mr and Mrs Dursley of number 4 Privat Drive were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…”

Panel 2: I was 11 years old when Harry Potter finally broke through my dyslexia and turned me into a reader.

Panel 3: Every night in the summer before sixth grade I waited for the owl carrying my Hogwarts Letter. I cried when it didn’t come. “I have to go to Muggle school!”

PAGE 2

Part Two: Hats

I dedicated myself to being a fan.

Panel 1: I began collecting Harry Potter News article.

Panel 2: I asked my relatives to mail me ones from their local papers. I filled a thick binder with clippings.

Panel 3: I wrote my own trivia quiz

Panel 4: and participated in the one held annually at the county fair. “Next contestant!”

Panel 5: I usually got into one of. the top five spots. I won boxes of candy, posters, stationary, and once a baseball cap. (Hat reads: I survived the battle of Hogwarts).

Panel 6: In high school I sewed a black velvet cape and knitted many stripped scarves.

PAGE 3

Part Three: Double Trouble

Watching the last film in 2011 felt like the final note of my childhood. 

Panel 1: I remember driving home from the midnight showing thinking about the end of 13 years of waiting; wondering what would define the next chapter of my life. 

Panel 2: That same month I heard of something called Pottermore. “Okay, so there’s a sorting quiz… I already know my house! Patronus assignment? Mine’s a barn owl. Duh!" 

Panel 3: You can read the books again but with GIFs? Why? 

Panel 4: I lived in a place with very slow and limited internet at the time. Pottermore sounded inaccessible, but also boring. I never joined. 

Panel 5: "I’ll just read the actual books again, thanks." 

PAGE 4

Part Four: Sweets

In 2016, a series of short stories titled "History of Magic in North America” were released on Pottermore to pave the way for the first Fantastic Beasts Film. These stories display an extreme ignorance of American history, culture, and geography, but the worst parts are the casual misuse of indigenous beliefs and stories. Fans and critics immediately spoke up against this appropriation. Some of the most quoted voices included Nambe Pueblo scholar Dr. Debbie Reese who runs the site “American Indians In Children’s Literature”; Navajo writer Brian Young; Johnnie Jae (Otoe-Missouria and Choctaw), founder of A Tribe Called Geek; Dr Adrienne Keene (Cherokee Nation), a Professor at Brown University who runs the blog “Native Appropriations”, and writers N.K. Jemison and Paula Young Lee.

PAGE 5

Rowling is famous for responding to fans directly on twitter, yet she did not respond to anyone calling out the damaging aspects of “Magic in North America.” Her representatives refused to comment for March 9 2016 article in the Guardian. She has never apologized. All of this, plus the casting of Johnny Depp and the specific declarations of support by JKR, Warner Brothers, and director David Yates left a sour taste in my mouth.

For further thoughts on the new films read The Crimes of Grindelwald is a Mess by Alanna Bennett for Buzzfeed News, November 16, 2018.

PAGE 6

Excerpt from Colonialism in Wizarding American: JK Rowling’s History of Magic in North America Through an Indigenous Lens by Allison Mills, MFA, MAS/MLIS (Cree and Settler French Canadian)

Although Rowling is certainly not the first white author to misstep in her treatment of Indigenous cultures, she has an unprecedented level of visibility and fame, […] One of the most glaring problems with Rowling’s story is her treatment of the many Indigenous nations in North America as one monolithic group. […It] flattens out the diversity of languages, belief systems, and cultures that exist in Indigenous communities, allowing stereotyping to persist. […] It continues a long history of colonial texts which ignore that Indigenous peoples still exist. […] In the Wizarding world, as in the real world, Indigenous histories have been over-written and our cultures erased.

from The Looking Glass: New Perspectives in Children’s Literature Volumn 19, Issue 1

PAGE 7

Part 5: Music

Panel 1: Also in 2016 I discovered two podcasts which radically altered my experience of being an HP fan. The first was Witch Please created by two Canadian feminist literary scholars Hannah McGregor and Marcelle Kosman.

Panel 2: “If it’s not in the text it doesn’t count!” “Close reading ONLY!”

Panel 3: They talk about Harry Potter at the level you’d expect in a college class with particular focus on gender, race, class, and the troubling fatphobia, fear of othered and queer coded bodies, violence against women, white feminism, gaslighting and failed pedagogy in the books. They bring up these issues not because they hate the series, but because they LOVE it.

PAGE 8

These passionate, joyful conversations went off like fireworks in my mind. I had never taken a feminist class before. I gained a whole new vocabulary to talk about the books- and the world.

PAGE 9

Panel 1: The second podcast I started that year was Harry Potter and the Sacred Text, created by two graduates of the Harvard Divinity School, Vanessa Zoltan and Casper Ter Kuile.

Panel 2: They read one chapter per episode through a theme such as love, control, curiosity, shame, responsibility, hospitality, destruction, or mystery. Like Witch Please, they are interested only in the information on the page, not thoughts from the author. The delights and failures of the text are examined in the context of the present day, and new meanings constantly arise.

PAGE 10

What does it mean to treat a text as sacred?

Trusting that the more time we give to it, the more blessings it has to give us.

Reading the text repeatedly with concentrated attention. Our effort is part of what makes it sacred. The text is not in and of itself sacred, but is made so by rigorously engaging in the ritual of reading.

Experiencing it in community.

“To me, the goal of treating the text as sacred is that we learn to treat each other as sacred.” -Vanessa Zoltan

PAGE 11

Part 6: Tooth and Claw

In October 2017, Rowling liked a tweet linking to an article arguing that trans women should be kept out of women’s bathrooms because of cisgender women’s fears. In March 2018, she liked a tweet about the problem of misogyny in the UK Labour Party which included the line “Men in dresses get brosocialist solidarity I never had.” The author of the tweet had previously posted many blatantly anti-trans statements.

Rowlings publicist claimed she had liked the posted by accident in a “clumsy and middle-aged moment.” Yet, in September 2018 she liked a link posted by Janice Turner to her column in the Times UK titled “Trans Rapists Are A Danger In Women’s Jails.”

Screencaps of these tweets can be found in the article “The Mysterious Case of JK Rowling and her Transphobic Twitter History”, January 10 2019 by Gwendolyn Smith (a trans journalist), LGBTQNation.com

PAGE 12

Excerpt from: Is JK Rowling Transphobic? A Trans Woman Investigates by Katelyn Burns

Ultimately, the answer is yes, she is transphobic […] I think it’s fair that she receives criticism from trans people, especially given her advocacy on behalf of queer people in general, but also because she has a huge platform. Many people look up to her for creating a singular piece of popular culture that holds deep meaning for fans from different walks of life, and she has a responsibility to handle that platform wisely. (Published on them.us March 28, 2018)

PAGE 13

Part 7: Home

At age 30, I’m still not over Harry Potter.

Panel 1: I’ve recently found a local bar that does HP trivia nights. “Poppy or Pomona?” “Poppy!”

Panel 2: I currently own an annual pass to Universal Studios so I can visit Hogsmeade.

Panel 3: I love talking to kids who are reading the books for the first time. “Who’s your favorite character?” “Ginny!”

Panel 4: And I’m planning a relisten to the audio books to next year to help me get through the election cycle. “Jim Dale, I’m going to need you more than ever…”

Spoiler from 2023: I did not do this. By mid-2020 JKR had posted her transphobic essay; we were in covid; I never visited Universal Studios again.

PAGE 14

But I do want to learn from her mistakes. I never want to repeat “Magic in North America.” As I write, I will do my research. I will consult experts and compensate them. If a reader from a different culture/background than me speaks up about my work, I will listen and apologize. I KNOW I WILL MAKE MISTAKES. But I will own up to them and I will do better.

PAGE 15

Excerpt from Diversity Is Not Enough: Race, Power and Publishing by Daniel José Older

We can love a thing and still critique it. In fact, that’s the only way to really love a thing. Let’s be critical lovers and loving critics and open ourselves to the truth about where we are and where we’ve been. Instead of holding tight to the same old, failed patriarchies, let’s walk a new road, speak new languages. Today, let’s imagine a literature, a literary world, that carries this struggle for equity in its very essence, so that tomorrow it can cease to be necessary, and disappear. (Buzzfeed, April 14, 2017) 

PAGE 16

Harry Potter is flawed, & JK Rowling is problematic. But the books helped me learn a lot: 

*One of the greatest dangers facing the modern world is the rise of fascism 

*The government cannot be trusted 

*Read and think critically

*Question the news: who paid the journalist? Who owns the paper? 

*Trust and support your friends through good times and bad

*Organize for resistance

*Educate and share resources with peers

*The revolution must be diverse and intersectional

* We are only as strong as we are united

*The weapon we have is love 

MK 2019

PAGE 17

PART 8: EPILOGUE

In 2021 I removed a Harry Potter patch I sewed to my book bag over a decade ago. I took 15 pieces of Harry Potter fanart off my walls. I got rid of my paperback book set, 2 board games, and 8 t-shirt. [images: a Hogwarts a patch with loose threads, a pair of scissors and a seam ripper]

Panel 1: Maia holding up a shirt with the Deathly Hallows logo on it. Maia thinks: “Damn, this really used to be my entire personality.”

Panel 2: The t-shirt gets thrown into the Goodwill box.

PAGE 18

I wrote my zine wrestling with JKR’s legacy in 2019, after her dismissive and racist reaction to indigenous fans and critics of “Magic in North America” and after she had liked a couple transphobic tweets. Since then, she has gotten so much worse.

A Brief Timeline (mostly from this Vox article)

June 2020- JKR posts a 3600 word essay making her anti-trans position clear

August 2020- The Robert F Kennedy Human Rights Org issues a statement about her transphobia, JKR doubles down on her position and returns an award they gave her

December 2020- JKR claims 90% of HP fans secretly agree with her anti-trans views

December 2021- JKR mocks Scottish Police for recognizing transgender identities

March 2022- JKR criticizes gender-inclusive language and legislation

December 2022- JKR retweets trans youtuber Jessie Earl’s critical review of Hogwarts Legacy, starting an onslaught of transphobic harassment towards Earl

December 2022- JKR removes her support from an Edinburgh center for survivors of sexual violence with a trans-inclusive policy and funds her own center which explicitly excludes trans sexual assault survivors

January 2023- JKR tweets “Deeply amused by those telling me I’ve lost their admiration due to disrespect I show violent, duplicitous rapists.” It got nearly 300K likes

March 2023- One the podcast “The Witch Trials of JK Rowling”, hosted by a former Westboro Baptist Church Member, JKR compares the trans rights movement to Death Eaters.

PAGE 19

What are The Witch Trials of JK Rowling?

Panel 1: Maia speaking. “It’s a 7 episode documentary style podcast hosted by Megan Phelps-Roper. Nearly every episode contains interviews with JKR as well as critics, journalists, historians, protestors and fans.

Panel 2: Maia speaking. “In episode 1, JKR speaks more candidly than she has previously about being in an abusive marriage. Her ex-husband hit her, stalked her, broke into her house overlapping with the time she was writing the first three HP books.”

Panel 3: Maia speaking. “What she went through genuinely sounds horrific. I have a lot of sympathy for the kind of life-long traumas those experiences leave.”

PAGE 20

HOWEVER.

It is clear from reading the June 2020 essay on her blog and listening to the podcast, that JKR still to this day feels unsafe. Despite her wealth and privilege she moves through the world with the mindset of a victim. And the group of people she finds most threatening are trans women.

Or rather, she is afraid that allowing trans women in women’s spaces invites the possibility of male predators entering those spaces.

Here’s a direct quote: The problem is male violence. All a predator wants is access and to open the doors of changing rooms, rape centers, domestic violence centers [...] to any male who says “I’m a woman and I have a right to be here” will constitute a risk to women and girls. - from The Witch Trials episode 4 as transcribed by therowlinglibrary.com, March 2023

Image: A stem of Belladonna with flowers and berries.

PAGE 21

Let me introduce here the term: TRANSMISOGYNY. The intersection of transphobia and misogyny, this term was coined by Julia Serano in 2007. Scout Tran, on tiktok as Queersneverdie said: “Transmisogyny occurs in people who have been previously hurt by traditional misogyny. Who have been driven to hate men or at the very least to be scared of men. They will sometimes take out that rage on trans women. (March 2023)

JKR claims to care for trans women and understand they are extremely vulnerable to assault and violence. In her 2020 Essay she wrote: “I want trans women to be safe. At the same time, I do not want to make natal girls and women less safe.”

So she cares about trans women… just less than cis women, and she’s willing to throw all trans women under the bus because of her unfounded, prejudice fears.

PAGE 22

Panel 1: Maia speaking. “JKR claims to have seen data that proves trans women have presented physical threats to other women in intimate spaces, but never cites sources. She also uses “producer of the large gametes” as a definition of “woman”.

What about transmen and nonbinary folks?

Panel 2: Maia leaning on a stack of all seven HP books, the first four Cormorant Strike books and The Casual Vacancy, gesturing to a series of quotes with a tired and disgusted expression.

I’m concerned about the huge explosion of young women wishing to transition and also about the increasing numbers who seem to be detransitioning. * [...] If I’d been born 30 years later, I too might have tried to transition. The allure of escaping womanhood would have been huge. -June 10 2020 essay

I don’t believe a 14 year old can truly understand what the loss of their fertility is.

-Witch Trials episode 4

I haven’t yet found a study that hasn’t found that the majority of young people experiencing gender dysphoria grow out of it*. -Witch Trials episode 7

*No sources cited

PAGE 23

It’s hard to over emphasize how fixated JKR has become on these topics. As of the date I’m writing this, 14 out of her 20 most recent tweets (70%) are in some way anti-trans. She tweets against Mermaids (a UK based trans youth charity), against trans athletes, against gender neutral bathrooms, and in support of LBG Alliance- a UK org that denies trans rights while upholding gay rights. Here are some gems from her archive:

“People who menstruate.” I’m sure there used to be a word for those people. Someone help me out. Wumben? Wimpund? Woomud? -June 2020

War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength. The Penised Individual Who Raped You Is a Woman. - December 2021

And in response to someone asking “How do you sleep at night knowing you lost a whole audience?”

I read my most recent royalty cheques and find the pain goes away pretty quickly. -October 2022

PAGE 24

Hashtag Ruthless Productions a queer nerd podcast company created a great guide on ethical engagement with HP. Image: the two hosts of Hashtag Ruthless productions, Jessie (They/she) and Lark (he/him).

Stop buying all official HP Products: books, movies, games, toys, etc, Universal Studios tickets, food, merch.* Boycott any new TV series or movies. Instead: buy the books and DVDs used. If you still want to wear HP merch, buy fan-made. Engage only with fan content: fic, podcasts, fanart, wizard rock, etc. Show transphobia is bad for business. None of this will change JKR’s mind. But the Fantastic Beast series was canceled and after record Pottermore sales in 2020, they fell in 2022 by 40%.

*She gets a portion of ALL tickets. In 2019, this was her largest income source. Read the full guide: hashtagruthless.com/resourceguide

PAGE 25

As late as 2019, I was still reading JKR’s murder mystery series. But by the fourth book my experience began to sour.

Panel 1: Maia holding a copy of Lethal White. “The only gay character in this book is a government official who gropes his staff?”

Panel 2: “The only genderqueer character is misgendered and portrayed as a whiny faker?”

Panel 3: “The only Muslim character is disowned by his family over gay rumors?”

Panel 4: “Even the women aren’t portrayed very well…”

Panel 5: “Why is the main female character defined by the rape in her past?”

Panel 6: “Wait, what happens in the rest of this series…?” Maia scrolls on eir phone.

Panel 7: “Is the series heading towards an employee/boss relationship?”

Panel 8: “And has a man wearing women’s clothes to commit assault?”

Panel 9: “Yeah, I’m done. I’m never reading a new JKR book ever again.”

PAGE 26

And as for JKR herself?

As tempting as it might be to tweet your frustrations at her, I don’t recommend it. In 2021, she tweeted, “Hundreds of trans activists have threatened to beat, rape, assassinate and bomb me.” Getting hate online feeds her sense of victimhood and she waves it as proof of her moral high ground. Instead I suggest you block her on twitter, then delete twitter, go to the library and try to find a new book that feels magical.

Stack of books: In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan, The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater, Gifts by Ursula K Le Guin, Deep Wizardry by Diane Duane, A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik and Gideon the Ninth by Tamsin Muir.

PAGE 27

In “Emergent Strategy” adrienne maree brown writes: You do not have the right to traumatize abusive people, to attack them, personally or publicly, or to sabotage anyone else’s health. The behaviors of abuse are also survival-based, learned behaviors rooted in pain. If you can look through the lens of compassion, you will find hurt and trauma there. If you are the abused party, healing that hurt is not your responsibility and exacerbating that pain is not your justified right.

PAGE 28

Seeing anyone over age 12 wearing HP merch now makes me uncomfortable. Are they ignorant or actively a TERF? I hate wondering how much money JKR has probably poured into anti-trans legislation… This zine is a culmination of my slow breakup with a story that once brought me joy. Now it just makes me angry, tired and sad.

Image: Candle in a fancy holder burned down to less than an inch.

Maia Kobabe, 2023

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 13: Piece Me Back Together

Summary: Your pack deals with the aftermath of your heat.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl), spanking (it’s like once), choking (kind of), light Dom/sub dynamics, Johnny's praise kink, excessive use of the word cock, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief mention of blood, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff

A/N: Well folks, we've made it past the heat portion of the fic. Now things can really start moving. Lots of aftercare, some world building, and of course a little spice at the end for you all to enjoy (as if the last chapter wasn't enough lol). I tried to catch all the possible tags for this one but as always, let me know if I missed one. The smut happens in the very last scene, so if you'd prefer not to read it, then skip that last little bit. You won't really miss much. Also, there's a lot of jumping around in time in this one so I tried to mark when things are happening relative to the present moment in the fic.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

6 Days Ago

“Looks comfortable.” 

Kyle glances up as Johnny closes the door to his room, blanket and pillow in hand. “Slept on worse.” He shrugs, glancing down at the cot set up in the hallway before looking back up at Johnny. “Moving out?” 

“Camping in Si’s office for the next week. Keep our distance.” He nods at the closed door. 

“Probably for the best.” Kyle says. “Have fun!” 

“Don’t enjoy yourself too much.” Johnny winks at him before making his way down the hallway and disappearing around the corner. 

Kyle shakes his head, starting to sort through the many bags of supplies they’ve stocked up on in preparation for their omega’s heat. They’re well prepared, all of them, for the next week, Kyle especially. He’s spent the last few days reading up on what to expect, how to best help and support his alpha and omega, and what to look out for in case things start going wrong. He doesn’t think they will. He has a lot of faith in Price and he knows Price will take good care of their omega. 

Still, he can’t help but feel a bit nervous. He has a big job to do, even though there’s not much to do until after the heat is over with. He just has to ensure Price doesn’t hurt you accidentally, or maul you to death. He doesn’t think that’s likely to happen, but then again, one can never know. 

Kyle lets out a shaky breath, grabbing the bags with the electrolytes and nutrient bars before heading for your door. 

It’s going to be a long week. 

Present Day

It’s quiet. Has been for almost an hour now. Kyle rises from the cot, slipping his phone into his pocket. He slowly approaches the door, leaning in to listen for a moment before putting his hand on the knob. He lets out a breath before pushing the door open slowly, slipping in and closing the door quietly. The smells in the room are worse than they had been last night, a toxic mix of omega, alpha, sex, and sweat. He takes a moment to breathe, adjusting to the scent. 

You and Price are spooned together on the bed, asleep, or at least you are. Price had pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in. Kyle approaches slowly, not wanting to accidentally step on a wrapper and startle either of you and risk you getting scared or Price getting territorial. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, your body temperature significantly lower than it had been even last night. He pulls the forehead thermometer from his pocket, taking your temperature quickly before sending a text to Dr. Keller. 

He carefully lifts the blankets, checking beneath. You’re still locked together as he expected, and he lowers the blankets back down, tucking you both in again. He unplugs Price’s phone from the charging cord that he’d plugged in last night, rotating it to your phone. He knew the chances of either of you being aware enough to use a phone for anything would be low, but just in case, he kept them both charged. 

He tiptoes through the mess of wrappers and bottles, grabbing the bag of trash that he had started a couple days ago. He picks up the mess on the floor, cleaning off the nightstand as well before setting out a new bottle of electrolytes and a couple nutrient bars. There’s still quite a few left, but those could be saved for your next heat. 

Price stirs a bit as Kyle sets the bag of trash off to the side next to the bag of things that would have to go to the wash. He hurries over, gently keeping Price from moving too much. 

“Easy. You’re still knotted.” He says, putting a hand on Price’s shoulder as you let out a quiet sound. His skin is warm and sticky from sweat, and probably other things. 

Price rubs his eyes before blinking up at Kyle. “What day is it?” 

“Morning of the sixth day.” He answers, passing Price the bottle of electrolytes. “I think it’s over. Her temperature’s back to normal. Just waiting on Dr. Keller’s opinion.” 

Price hums, unscrewing the cap from the bottle before taking a long drink. “Feel like shit.” 

Kyle grins. “Been a long week for you, Cap. How do you feel?” 

Price screws the cap back on the bottle before leaning over you to place it on the nightstand. “Like I got hit by a truck and rolled down a hill.” 

“Speaking from experience, sir?” Kyle smirks. 

Price gives him a look before closing his eyes again, relaxing against your back. He lets out a groan as his knot deflates, his cock slipping from your folds. “Christ, that's going to hurt later.”

“Let me get the bath started.” Kyle says, going into your bathroom. 

He starts the water, making sure it’s warm enough before he grabs the epsom salt off the counter and adds some in. He leaves the water running as he moves back to the bedroom, helping Price off the bed first. The alpha groans as he stands, leaning heavily against Kyle’s side. Kyle wraps his arm around his shoulders, supporting Price as they make their way to the bathroom. 

“I’ve been beaten, tortured, shot. I’ve jumped out of moving cars, been in helicopter crashes.” Price says, grunting as Kyle helps him down into the bath. “This might be the worst I’ve ever felt.” 

“Not quite as spry as you used to be, old man?” Kyle teases, making sure he’s comfortable. 

“Plenty spry, but god I forgot how energetic omegas can be.” Price leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. 

“Just relax.” Kyle says, turning off the water. “I’ll bring her in.” 

He heads back into your room, approaching the bed. You’re shivering, eyes squeezed closed and eyebrows pinched. Kyle kneels down next to the bed, placing a gentle hand on your arm. You start a bit at the touch, a quiet whimper leaving your lips. 

“Shh, easy love.” Kyle tries to soothe you as you shake. “You’re alright.” 

You let out a whine, seeking out your alpha in your disoriented state. The bathwater splashes as Price shifts in response to your call, his own instincts still on high alert. 

“Let’s get you into the bath.” Kyle says before gently slipping his arms under you and lifting you up. 

You let out a whine in protest, your body sore and aching from the last six days. Kyle quickly carries you to the bath, easing you into the water between Price’s legs. You’re trembling, quiet whines leaving your lips as he eases you back against Price’s chest. The alpha wraps his arms around you, a quiet rumble sounding from his chest as he tries to ease your disorientation and discomfort. 

Kyle leaves you and Price there to soak as he heads back to the room to strip the sheets and start the laundry. Most of your pillows and stuffed animals are stacked in the corner of the room by your desk, spared from the mess that the bed has turned into. The sheets are still wet with a concoction of fluids, and he knows they’ll need to soak for a while. He stuffs them into the bag with your clothes, along with your blankets, before he heads down the hall to the laundry room. 

He checks on you and Price when he returns, both of you content still in the bath. He can’t help but smile as he watches the two of you, pride swelling in his chest at the sight of his alpha taking care of their omega. 

Their omega. 

It seems almost strange to think now. They’d gone so long without an omega, and thought they wouldn’t be getting one. Now, six weeks later, they’ve all fallen head over heels for a little omega none of them even knew they needed. He can’t imagine life without an omega now, how well you fit into their pack, how well you fit with all of them, how you’ve only served to make them stronger and more efficient. 

He hates to admit that perhaps Laswell was right. 

Maybe they did need you after all. 

Kyle bags up the plastic mattress protector, glad to see it did its job. He replaces the sheets and blankets for now, knowing you’ll want to nest once you’re more aware. He checks his phone before heading back into the bathroom, kneeling down next to the tub. Your shaking has subsided, reduced to a shudder here and there as you’ve slowly relaxed in the hot water. 

Kyle grabs a cloth and your body wash, starting to gently clean your skin, or at least get the sweat and other fluids off. Bruises litter your skin and the claiming mark on your shoulder is scabbed and angry. Kyle carefully washes it, not wanting to apply too much pressure as he cleans off the dried blood still stuck to your skin. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while. 

“What did Dr. Keller say?” Price asks as he helps ease you up so Kyle can wash your back. 

“Said if her temperature is normal then the worst is over.” Kyle answers. “She wants to do a check up soon, make sure everything’s alright. Said she’d come here to do it, if that’s alright.” 

Price grunts quietly as Kyle starts to wash his chest. “That’s fine. Easier than going all the way to the medical building. Simon and Johnny?” 

“Fine.” Kyle answers. “Been keeping busy running drills and stuff. Johnny’s been keeping Simon occupied.” 

Price hums, letting his eyes close as Kyle washes his neck and shoulders. “Good.” 

Kyle makes sure to get all of the soap rinsed off before pulling the plug on the water, carefully lifting you up to stand. He lets you lean against him, grabbing one of the towels to dry you off as best he can. Price gets himself standing, drying himself off as Kyle helps you back to bed. Price joins you, wrapping his arms around you tight as Kyle tucks the blankets up around you both. 

“Can I get you anything?” Kyle asks as he sets a new bottle of electrolytes on the nightstand. “Real food maybe?” 

“I’d kill for some bangers and mash, maybe a pint.” Price says, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” Kyle says, glancing at you one last time before he leaves the room. 

Your body aches. There’s a deep soreness in your muscles, and a painful throb between your legs. Your skin feels raw and tight, and there's a steady pulse behind your eyes. A quiet sound leaves your lips before you can stop it, the sound cracking and broken from your raw throat. There's a desert in your mouth again, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth.

Your thoughts are dragged away from the agony in your body as a quiet rumbling starts somewhere in front of you, your brain going quiet except for the need to seek it out. You press yourself closer to it, meeting warm skin as you try to get closer and closer. You want to bury yourself in it, seep into its depths until you can feel the vibrations of it in your bones. Arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer until you're squished against a bare chest. 

You press your face against the soft skin, trying to get closer to the rumbling purr vibrating from deep within. You let out another sound, body going lax as the purr lulls you into a relaxed state. The tension leaves your body, easing the ache in your muscles a bit. Not much, but enough to pull a relieved sigh from your lips. 

“Easy, love.” A quiet voice says, another hand touching your back. 

You tense slightly at the intrusion on your safe space, but quickly relax as the hand stills on your skin. The calming scent of beta overtakes you, easing your mind to a quiet hum as your alpha and beta work to calm you. You feel a bit disoriented as reality slowly begins to return, seeping back into your brain. 

You went into heat. 

You remember waking up with the blistering inferno burning hot within you, the insatiable need pulsing between your legs. You remember Kyle being there, the soft scent of him as he helped you prepare, pulling off your clothes and making you drink some of the electrolytes. You remember John entering the room, the way his scent made your brain feel like mush. You remember him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, his knot forcing you open before everything went dark. 

Everything else is a dark blur, wiped from your memory after your instincts took over. 

You shift against the body you’re pressed close to, a deep ache rippling through you. It hurts, everything hurts. Your hips are sore, your shoulder is throbbing, every muscle feels like you just did a triathlon with no training, and there’s a sharp throbbing between your thighs. 

You’re crying before you even realize it, the tears uncontrollable as they slide down your cheeks, the quiet sniffles and sobs aggravating your already aching body. The arms around you tighten, the purring getting louder, but you can’t stop the onslaught of tears. 

You flinch as something tickles the skin of your forehead, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. You let out a whine as you continue to cry, your mind a swirl of confusion and disorientation as you try to come to terms with everything that’s happened. You don’t know how long it’s been, what day it is. You don’t even know what happened to you in the last week. 

You continue to cry, oblivious to the conversation happening over you, the gentle purring in your ears lulling you into a dazed state as you float in and out of consciousness. The pain of being moved momentarily brings you back before you settle again, laying back against a chest. A baggy shirt is pulled over your head, smelling of your alpha. The fabric feels different than it had days ago when you’d woken up in the throes of your heat. It’s soft, not offending, and it offers you warmth and comfort. 

You don’t want to move, you don’t want to do anything. Exhaustion pulls at the edges of your mind as you lay there, the tears still streaming down your cheeks.

He hasn’t stopped purring since you woke up. The low rumble in his chest hasn’t stopped, and neither has the ache blooming there since you started crying. Even in your dazed, half asleep state, the tears still roll down your cheeks, quiet shaky breaths catching every so often. He’s not sure what to do, how to help. He’s never been with an omega that’s cried before. Not like this. 

His purring kicks up in volume as you startle awake when the door opens, letting out a broken whimper as your space suddenly gets invaded. He tries to soothe you, his arms tightening around you to try and ground you in his presence. 

“Hi, honey.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling down next to the bed, her voice soft and the scent of beta thick in the air. “Still a bit out of it, huh?” 

“She hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your arm with his thumb. 

“That’s not unusual.” Dr. Keller says, digging through her bag to pull out a thermometer. “There’s a lot going on right now for her. Besides the exhaustion and the confusion and the pain, there’s a lot of rapid hormonal changes happening. Some omegas can just wake up and hop out of it immediately and be just fine.” 

John frees one of your arms so Dr. Keller can take your pulse and blood pressure. 

“Others might struggle a bit more.” She continues. “Purebred omegas especially have a hard time coming out of it. They’re more sensitive to those instincts and the sudden cut off of them is rather jarring.” She puts her equipment back in her bag. “Her vitals look good, which makes me confident to hold off on any further examinations until she’s more alert and aware.” 

“Are there things we should look out for?” Kyle asks. 

“She’s going to be drowsy and fatigued for a while, but if you can’t wake her at all, call me. If her breathing gets shallow or her pulse weakens or she starts developing a fever again, call me. Also check for blood the next time she uses the bathroom. Her vitals aren’t showing any indication of internal injuries, though, so I think she’ll be just fine.” She pulls a pill bottle from her bag. “I’ve prescribed some muscle relaxers for her. There’s a week’s worth in there. It’ll help with the pain and discomfort, but they will make her sleepy. The best thing she can do right now is rest and recover. Once she’s more aware, you can try some soft foods and lots of liquids. If she’s really struggling, I can set up an IV and get some fluids into her, perk her up a bit.” 

“Thank you.” John says, shifting you slightly so Dr. Keller can look at the bite mark on your shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” She asks him, pulling out a disinfectant wipe.

“Sore.” John huffs out a laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.” 

Dr. Keller hums as she cleans the wound on your shoulder. “I know I’m not here to give you medical advice, but as your omega’s doctor I feel the need to remind you not to ignore your own symptoms. She needs you right now, more than ever. So don’t try to macho man your way through anything. You need to rest just as much as she does.” 

“Yes, doctor.” He grumbles, adjusting your shirt once she’s done. 

Dr. Keller gives him a smile. “You did a good job.” She turns to Kyle. “Both of you. Don’t hesitate to call me. It’s what I’m here for.” 

A smile tugs at John’s lips as Kyle practically beams from Dr. Keller’s praise. He did do a good job. You’re both still breathing after all. 

3 Days Ago

“I cannae take anymore.” Johnny pants, his breaths near wheezes as he rests his hands on his knees. “Ye said you'd go easy on me.”

“I never promised anything, Johnny.” Simon says, standing behind him. 

“Hell's bells, L.T.” Johnny groans, dropping to his hands and knees. “Gonna kill me at this rate.”

“Don't be dramatic. C'mon, again.” 

“Uh uh.” Johnny says, flopping onto his side on the ground. “Am pure done in! ‘S almost lunch anyway.” He rolls onto his back, looking in the direction of the barracks as he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Think they're havin’ fun?”

Simon looks down at him, looming over him like a shadow. “Probably seems like it right now. Be a different story when it’s done.”

“Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like.” Johnny says, turning his gaze up to Simon's face. He can't see much under the mask, and right now is one of those moments when he wishes he could. 

“You really don't. It's messy and gory.” Simon offers him a hand, helping Johnny to his feet. “Gotta be prepared to pick up the pieces afterwards.” Simon turns, heading in the direction of the barracks. 

“That why you've never taken an omega?” Johnny asks, following him.

Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at Johnny. Johnny's back straightens at the look in Simon's eyes. No, not Simon. Ghost. He's looking at Ghost again. 

“Drop it. Or I'll make you do another lap.” Ghost says, his voice taking on the low rasp he gets when he's shifted into the laser focused headspace of the Lieutenant. 

“Yes, sir.” Johnny says, following after Ghost as they head back towards the barracks. 

Ghost slips into the showers once they enter, Johnny heading to the corner to peek down the hallway towards their rooms. It's quiet now. It hadn't been when they left earlier. He could hear it as they passed the hall to go out the door, the distant sound of moans and the bedframe knocking against the wall. He had fought the erection threatening to tent his shorts all the way to the field. He knows heats are no light matter, but the mental image he's drawn up of you blissed out, mouth open as you moan, back arching in pleasure has been plaguing him for nearly two weeks. He's desperate, practically chomping at the bit to get a chance to see it himself first hand, to see the real thing putting his mental image to shame. 

He makes his way down the hallway, keeping a respectful distance between himself and your room. Kyle looks up from his spot on the bed where he'd been scrolling on his phone.

“How're they doin’?” Johnny asks, wiping the sweat from his face. 

“Alright. Sleeping for the moment.” Kyle answers. Johnny can only imagine the torture of having to sit and listen to nonstop fucking for the last three days. 

“We're gonna grab lunch soon. Want us tae bring ye somethin’?” 

Kyle nods. “Sure. That'd be great.” 

“Ye got it.” Johnny nods, passing a glance at your door before looking back to Kyle. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, mate.” Kyle says, watching his fellow beta walk back down the hall. 

Johnny glances up from his phone as Simon huffs out what's the tenth sigh in the last three minutes. The alpha is seated at his desk, clicking away at something on his computer and occasionally mashing away at the keyboard rather harshly. Johnny's surprised he hasn't cracked a key yet, or just thrown the whole thing out the window. The beta can see how tightly his alpha is wrung by the tenseness in his shoulders, the hard set of his brow, the set line of his lips, the occasional tick of his jaw. 

“What's got ye all riled up?” Johnny finally breaks the silence, setting his phone aside. 

“Nothing.” Simon grumbles, ignoring Johnny's gaze.

Johnny’s brow furrows and he pushes himself to stand, moving over to Simon’s side. “Doesnae seem like nothin’ to me.” He puts his hands on Simon’s broad shoulders, squeezing them, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Awful tense, Si.” 

“Leave it, Johnny.” Simon grumbles, trying to swat the beta away, but he’s insistent. 

“Wouldnae be a little omega getting you so tense, would it?” Johnny teases. 

Simon turns to him, his eyes darkening. His jaw clenches, hands closing into fists where they sit on the armrests of his chair. “Don’t push it, Johnny.” His voice has that deep rumble to it, the threat of his alpha coming through. 

Johnny stares at him, feeling the danger prickling at the back of his neck, but at the same time, he wants to push that boundary. He wants to see just how far he can push his alpha until he finally gives in. 

“I don’t know why ye keep torturing yourself like this, Si. Ye know ye like her. She’d be more’n willing-” 

“That’s the problem.” Simon snaps, pushing himself up from his seat, forcing Johnny to take a step back. “She’s not doing this because she wants to. She’s only doing this because she’s been told to do it.” 

“She’s an omega. Her whole life was going tae be people tellin’ her what to do and forcin’ her tae do things, even if she didn’t want to. Ye think things would have been different if she’d been put with a different pack?” Johnny doesn’t back down from Simon’s glare, having been on the receiving end of it enough times now he’s almost immune to it. “Things could have been a lot worse for her. She might not have wanted to be here, but she is. Ye can’t change that, Si. No matter how badly you might want to.” 

Johnny can tell by the slow fall to Simon’s tense shoulders that he’s struck home. The situation wasn’t ideal, but it’s what they were dealt. You’re here with them, and he’s going to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible. 

Simon lets out another sigh, turning away from Johnny to crawl into their makeshift bed. He lays down with a huff, closing his eyes. Johnny smirks, slowly crawling onto the two cots pushed together, laying down right next to Simon. He rests his hand on Simon’s thigh, feeling the powerful muscle flex under his hand. He slowly begins to drag it higher, Simon’s eyes opening again. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Simon rasps, but he doesn’t move, even as Johnny reaches the junction of his hip and thigh. 

“Yer all worked up, big guy.” Johnny says, leaning his head on his hand, slowly moving his hand over Simon’s very prominent bulge. “Thought I’d help ye.” 

“What makes you think I want your help?” Simon says, still laying still. 

Johnny lifts his brows, slowly rubbing Simon through his pants. “This looks rather painful, and I seem to be the only option to help, since everyone else is rather occupied-” 

Johnny’s words are cut off as he finds himself suddenly on his back, Simon’s hand around his throat. The alpha is leaning over him, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest. “You talk too much, Johnny.” Simon rumbles, leaning close to the beta’s face. 

“I’ve been told tha’ before.” Johnny says, leaning up to try and kiss his alpha, but Simon backs away before he can make contact. “By you if I remember correctly.” 

Simon’s fingers flex around his throat, a moan spilling from his lips as Simon grinds his hips against Johnny’s. His cock is hard in his pants, has been for a while. He’s not sure if it’s from the lewd thoughts that have been plaguing his mind since you first kissed him, weeks ago, or if it’s just a response to the knowledge that you’re currently fucking their pack alpha like your life depends on it. 

Johnny lets out a whimper, bucking up against Simon desperately. Simon tuts at him, pressing against his throat to keep him still on the bed as he sits himself up on top of the beta. 

“Naughty little thing.” Simon says, staring down into his blue eyes. “Know you’ve been thinking about sinking your cock into the new little omega for weeks.” Johnny lets out a whine, his cock twitching in his pants. “I don’t think you’ll even make it that long, will you pup?” Simon chuckles. “Gonna cum in your pants as soon as you see her tits, huh?” Simon presses down, putting more pressure against his cock as he rubs it through his pants. “Gonna cum in your pants just thinking about it.” 

Johnny holds his breath, trying to focus anywhere except for Simon’s hand. He squeezes his eyes closed as Simon undoes the button on his cargo pants, releasing his throat to tug the fabric down around his knees. 

“Bloody hell.” Simon says, wrapping a hand around Johnny’s hard cock. “Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.” 

“I thought Kyle’s was the prettiest.” Johnny says, opening his eyes to glance down at his alpha. 

“Kyle’s just pretty.” Simon says, slowly stroking Johnny’s cock. “You have the prettiest cock.” 

“Christ...” Johnny breathes as Simon continues to jerk his cock, his hips bucking as he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. 

A pathetic whimper leaves Johnny’s lips as Simon pulls his hand away, sitting up on his knees over his beta. He undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor before undoing his pants, pulling them and his briefs down to release his own throbbing cock. Johnny licks his lips as Simon fists his own cock, slowly stroking it. 

“Turn around. Let me see that pretty ass.” Simon says. 

“Yes, sir.” Johnny smirks, wiggling himself until he’s flat on his stomach, pushing his ass into the air as best he can with his legs trapped between Simon’s. 

Simon purrs quietly at Johnny’s response, running his hands over his beta’s pert cheeks. “Prettiest ass too.” He murmurs, gently spreading his cheeks. 

“I’m startin’ to think I might be the prettiest.” Johnny says, gasping quietly as a glob of warm spit hits his hole. 

“Give me a night with Kyle and I’ll get back to you on that.” Simon says, pressing a finger into Johnny’s ass. 

Johnny groans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Fucking Christ.” 

“You can take it.” Simon soothes him, reaching down to fish the lube out of the bag he’d tossed it in last night. He squirts some on his finger before pressing further in, spreading Johnny’s ass open. “Good boy.” 

Johnny nearly melts into the cot, letting out a pathetic sound as Simon adds a second finger. He’s still sore from the last three days, but his drive to please his alpha pushes away any sensitivity he’s feeling. That, and the lust burning hot in him. Betas don’t have heat cycles, but he might as well be in the middle of one with how horny he’s been these last few days. He knows part of it is Simon being worked up by the knowledge that there’s an omega in heat nearby, and his own body reacting to his alpha. He’s never been around an omega in heat, and he doesn’t think Simon has either. 

He’s not sure Simon has ever been with an omega at all before. 

More cold lube hits his hole, a second finger pressing in. He gasps at the stretch, squeezing around Simon’s thick fingers. Simon’s other hand trails up his back, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Johnny pushes himself up slightly, tugging the fabric over his head before he relaxes back down against the blankets. 

Simon presses a third finger in, working Johnny open with what still won’t be enough, but Johnny won’t complain. He’s taken his alpha before. He’ll do it gladly again. 

“Fuck, Johnny.” Simon grunts as Johnny squeezes around his fingers again. 

“Cannae help it.” Johnny whines. “Feels too good.” 

“Didn’t say you could cum yet.” Simon says, removing his fingers. “Naughty pup.” 

Johnny lets out a pathetic sounding whimper, pressing his ass up to try and chase Simon’s fingers. He yelps as Simon’s hand meets his skin, his hips dropping back to the bed at the force of Simon’s spank. 

“Stay still.” Simon growls, the cap of the lube popping open again. 

Johnny does as he’s told, keeping himself still as Simon prepares himself. He groans as the tip of Simon’s cock presses against his hole, his hands fisting the sheets at the stretch. Simon’s hand rubs his back, trying to get him to relax. Johnny breathes, forcing himself to go lax, letting Simon slip in further. 

“Good boy.” Simon groans, bracing himself on the bed as he presses further and further into Johnny’s tight hole. “That’s my good boy. You can take it.” 

“Fuck!” Johnny groans, practically preening from the praise. 

“That’s it.” Simon groans, pressing in until his hips are flush with Johnny’s ass. “Bloody fucking hell.” 

Johnny’s mind goes blank as he’s filled, all thoughts leaving at the feeling of his alpha inside of him. He’s panting already, stretched open around his alpha’s cock. Simon begins to move, rocking his hips slowly, drawing his cock out before pushing it back in. Johnny whines, pushing back against Simon, needing more. 

“Please...” Johnny begs. “Please alpha!”

“Fuck.” Simon grunts, bracing himself further before snapping his hips against Johnny. “Like that? That what you want, pup?”

Johnny almost yelps at the sensation, hands fisting the blankets as his body rocks forward on the cot. “Fuck, yes!” 

Simon sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against Johnny’s ass. Pleasure numbs Johnny’s mind as the sensation of Simon inside of him. His cock is trapped between his body and the cot, dragging against the blankets with every thrust. He’s going to cum soon, he knows that. He won’t be able to hold it, not with how sensitive he already is. 

“Gonna cum, can’t hold it!” He whines, pushing back against Simon’s thrusts for more friction. “Fuck, alpha!” 

Johnny cums quickly with a groan, the blankets getting damp under him as he shakes in his release. Simon doesn’t stop, undeterred by Johnny’s clenching around him in his orgasm. He’s going to ring a few more out of Johnny before he’s done. 

They’re both in for a long night. 

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph 

[soon-palestine]

as an american citizen, you have the right to assemble. the police and other governmental agencies violate this right through mass arrests, illegal use of force, criminalization of protest and other means that threaten our right to free expression.

DO NOT TALK TO THE POLICE:

they are not your friends. they are not there to protect you, regardless of your race. their presence there is to protect the interests of the state.

what to do if you are detained or stopped by the police:

do not resist, even if you think they are violating your rights.

calmly ask someone to record.

ask if you’re free to leave. if you are, walk away.

how to stay safe during a protest:

write phone/legal aid numbers on your body. bring a sharpie for others to do this.

ALWAYS use the buddy system. don’t be selfish & stick to your own friend group. if you see someone alone, invite them into your circle.

don’t know where to seek legal aid?

before attending/during a protest, visit http://nlg.org/chapters/#massdefense.

NLG chapters are organized into regions. find. your region and write their number on your body.

encourage others around you to write that same number on their body.

4. if you are threatened with or under arrest:

you have the right to know why you’re being arrested. calmly ask. if they refuse to provide a reason, stay quiet and ask for legal representation immediately.

do not give any information or sign anything without a lawyer present.

what to do with your phone during a protest:

put your phone on airplane mode

disable face ID/touch, replace with 6-digit passcode instead

spreading awareness is great but avoid posting photos of people that include identifying features.

police want everyone to leave the area, what should that look like:

shutting down a protect through a dispersal order must be the last resort for police.

a clear danger must be present.

police must give adequate time for protesters to disperse and an exit route.

what are your rights if you’re being stopped or detained by police:

you do not have to consent to you or your belongings being searched. if you consent, anything can be used against you in court.

police can conduct a “pat down” if they suspect you have a weapon.

if you see someone being detained, what should you do:

record the interaction. police can not demand to view or delete any footage without a warrant.

use calming affirmations towards the person being detained. they are likely scared. be there for them.

use whatever privilege you have to protect others.

if you see a disabled person struggling, offer to help. find medics to assist people experiencing anxiety or having a panic attack. if you see a BIPOC being harassed, surround them.

personal note on using your privilege: i have seen white people, countless times, place themselves in front of BIPOC when police draw weapons/approach protests. it often works.

do not be a person that just acknowledges their privilege, use it for good.

10. remember that we protect us. ignite this chant as a reminder to everyone present if you have to. communities are supposed to help one another. don’t be a sell out, offer support, share resources, food and water. be a kind soul.

if you can not participate in a protest for whatever reason, you can still help! drop-off supplies! (water bottles, allergy-friendly foods/snacks with ingredients labels on them, sharpies, cards with legal aid numbers on them, masks, makeup remover wipes, hand sanitizer, etc)

sources/disclaimer: main source:

@ACLU and my own opinions. this is not legal advice. consult legal representation if you are in need of assistance.

stay safe, be on the right side of history. black lives matter, no one is illegal, we protect us, land back, all oppression is connected and free palestine. 🇵🇸