#so the crash has been existing in this random void but since i hit a random burst of inspiration for it

[lover-of-mine]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday!

I was tagged by @disasterbuckdiaz @cowboy-buck @honestlydarkprincess and @watchyourbuck thank you babes <3

Due to public demand aka the poll that actually ended in a tie, I'm writing the Buck breakdown fic, so here's a bit more of the crash. Other snippets here here and here.

Buck is only vaguely aware of the wetness dripping down his arm and the force of the rain hitting his face. He doesn't know when he took his helmet off or where it is. He can't even register the wail of the ambulance sirens next to him.  It all sounds as if his head is underwater. Everything has been narrowed to the members of the 122 trying to cut the driver's door open. Waiting for the moment someone will tell him if Eddie is alive or not. Waiting for him to be dragged out of this moment right before his world gets shifted on its axis.  It's why he doesn't register Hen calling his name until she squeezes his arm, stopping in front of him.  "Buck, baby, we have Eddie," she says, eyes kind and forever too knowing, seeing right through him as he shifts his unfocused gaze to her, "you need to go with Christopher."

I'm gonna tag @bucks118 @housewifebuck and @alyxmastershipper if they feel like it.

[dreamcatcherthinks]

Elastic

Hey everyone! This account has been extremely inactive for the longest time. Out of curiosity, I logged in today and found this fic in my drafts. So here, it is now, three years later :)

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Annabeth Chase was ready to find her soulmate. Ever since a month ago when her best friend, Piper Mclean had met Jason Grace, the boy she was destined to be with, Annabeth had realised that she missed her soulmate. It was a crazy feeling to miss someone you had never met. But she couldn’t help it. She did miss him.

At least, she was pretty sure her soulmate was a ‘him’. She didn’t really care either way but the snippets of images she sensed and her own gut told her that her soulmate was a guy. 

And this bond between them, this stretch of what felt like an elastic rubber band that literally linked her heart to his was the reason why she was wandering around in the middle of the city this early in the morning.

She had woken up gasping as she suddenly felt their bond pull taut and instinctively knew he was closer to her than he had ever been. Making a spontaneous decision, she had gotten ready and ran out the door, wearing the most comfortable pair of sneakers she owned.

From then on began a game of tag. Annabeth blindly followed the pull of the bond, weaving in between the early morning traffic and meandering through empty alleys, growing more and more excited each time the bond stretched a little more, showing her that she was getting closer to him. She groaned a little, frowning as she stopped at a junction, wishing she had a built-in GPS system to find him instead. After a few moments of consideration, the bond deigned to tug her to the left, letting her know the direction she should take.

She set off to the left. Her feet echoed rhythmically on the pavement and her mind wandered. It seemed like he was searching for her too. The elastic connecting them growing looser as the distance between them reduced, as they drew closer to one another.

She looked at her empty wrists, like she had every day since the morning the cord had glimmered into shape in her mind. Usually, the first words a couple would speak to each other when they met would be etched on their skin, right above where their pulse could be felt. She had wondered if maybe her partner couldn’t speak but had decided against it the night she heard some indistinctive words spoken by a male voice echo in her dreams.

Their connection worked differently from others. It was almost as if something didn’t want her growing too close to her soulmate before she actually met him. They couldn’t communicate by writing messages on their skin and having it appear on the other’s body like Piper and Jason could. They couldn’t read each other’s minds like Silena and Beckendorf could and they didn’t even have the timer on their wrists ticking down to the day they would meet like Will did.

Instead she got random snippets of her soulmate, jumbled bits and pieces that flashed through her mind like a butterfly, gone as quickly as lightning, but imprinted in her memory just as strongly. A moodboard, an aesthetic of her soulmate that taunted and teased her curiosity.

When she thought about him, she swore she could faintly hear the sound of water. Sometimes, of water lapping gently across a pool, other times of waves crashing along rocks. Perhaps he was a swimmer…..She had also grown to associate blue with him, yet always sensed a hue, green like the sea when she tried to reach down the bond.

This form of communication suited her. Going to the beach calmed her down now and ever since the bond, in a rare flash of helpfulness, had showed her a large ‘Hi!’ scrawled along a tanned arm in blue ink, (she suspected he was trying to see if the message would reach her like it did with Jason and Piper) she could never look at a blue marker without remembering him, remembering the future that waited for her with him, the promise that her future would be a stable and certain one, albeit a future with a very clumsy boy.

She found his clumsiness, which she felt the effects of, every time he stubbed his toe or walked into a door, both vexing and endearing. Of course she would have the bond that would let her feel her soulmate’s physical pain and of course her soulmate was one who somehow always seemed to bruise his knees. Sometimes it felt like the soulmate system was designed to infuriate her and only her. Annabeth was a girl who liked to know everything. No surprises. No sudden revelations. No curveballs. But, even though it could be annoying at times, she had grown to enjoy being in the dark . The fact that she could feel his pain reassured her that he was a real person who breathed and existed and fell….hard. And often. But still.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts and walked briskly onto the sidewalk. The roads were getting busier by the minute and the air was getting warmer. But the bond between them hung looser than ever, like a relaxed rubber band. She was closer to him than ever and she was not going home without finding him today.

She pushed away a few strands of her hair that had sneaked away from her ponytail, feeling anxiety spark up her fingers and ignored her craving for a coffee. Her stomach grumbled in protest and just as she had begun to battle with her hunger and aching legs, a dull thud reverberated down the side of her head. She stopped cold. A sharp pain followed it, driving her to the ground. Her knees barked at the impact, her body jerking as the pain struck her head in waves.

Annabeth buried her face in her hands, clenching her fists, letting her nails dig into her skin. A useless attempt at distracting herself from the searing, blinding agony that burned through her head, her heart.

It stopped just as suddenly as it had started. Annabeth breathed in deeply and raised her head. Some of the people passing by flashed her concerned looks but kept walking. There was a blur of commotion in front of her. A huddle of people surrounding something. An accident, perhaps. She hadn’t noticed anything else but the pain.

Annabeth wiped the tears from her eyes and noticed a flash of red on her skin. Was she crying…blood? No.

She looked down at her hands. There was no sting as the blood dripped down from a cut she couldn’t see and onto the pavement stones.

She stared at it. She felt empty. Empty and alone. Her chest stung, as if a rubber band had snapped against it. And it hit her. A revelation that she would have given anything to not know.

In the stretch of space that extended between her heart to his, there was nothing. Only a dark void to fill in the gap left by an elastic band that used to connect their souls together.

She understood then, why they didn’t have the first words they would say to each other inked on their skin. 

Annabeth raised her head, still on the ground, staring without seeing at the group that had begun to dissolve as people moved away, clearing a path for a vehicle with a siren. An ambulance. Her thoughts snapped to attention. What had happened here? She hadn’t heard or seen anything from the moment she had fallen.

Her eyebrows furrowed as her gaze latched on to the scene in front of her. There was someone sprawled on the ground, his hoodie splattered with blood, his dark hair, messy and rumpled, falling on his forehead. She caught a glimpse of his eyes, a vacant stare in a green that was achingly familiar. Voices pierced the white noise in her head - complaints of a speeding driver, sympathies for a strange boy who moments ago, had been rushing across the street, nervous and excited, and in a whisper, quieter than the rest, she heard the echoes of a future snatched away. 

Close. So, close. 

[deviantnotcriminal]

Rambling commence!

So, shadow was created from the remains of the stored magic inside the test subject’s body. During the initial split the character’s body essentially disintegrated as it’s magical stores of energy differentiated. Unlike the fragments, shadow’s magic was already in the differentiated state in the body and so when differentiated again, it became closer to that of what the fragments become when they go into the waiting void (differentiated dimension) to rest and recharge. It was also during this process that shadow became semi-sentient. The thing was that because shadow was originally pure magic, he could not draw magic from his surroundings. He could only ‘feed’ off the excess magic that was differentiated during it’s use in the fragment’s abilities. As the fragments got stronger, so did he. But because he could not draw any magic naturally, he was dependent on the fragments to remain sentient. Eventually he started to get an understand of his surroundings and could recognise the fragments based upon their souls and magic style.

When the fragments left the facility, shadow’s magic slowly dwindled as he was left to being nothing more than a thought or an idea. Not sentient, just a concept made of magic. This is how he was left for maybe 100 years. Occasionally a child or two might have come to the facility to vandalise it and they may have had some kind of magical ability that he could draw energy from, but for the most part he was left drained. That was until Lucas arrived. As Lucas sent out a ginormous volt of electric magic into the entire facility’s system to get it up and running again, even just temporarily, this magic jolted shadow awake into a fully conscious state. Immediately he tried to find the source of this power. As Lucas was continually using magic to take his notes it was easy to track him down. Shadow stayed near the fragment drawing more energy until Lucas was being called back to Vivian (who had refused to go into the facility for, personal reasons) so he could take him back to the island. As Lucas retreated, shadow followed him, out of the facility, into the portal, back to the island.

The island was like a magical battery. Ever since Lucas put up his magic dampening force field thingy at the highest point of the island, magic could very rarely get out, but it could very easily get in (through sunlight). Immediately upon setting foot on the island shadow felt energised. He was now more than conscious, and was bordering on completely sentient. He found the most intense location for magical energy was in the generator room (a cave at the base of the cliff where Lucas’ laboratory sits). Lucas had rigged it up so it would generate electricity from magical energy. It wasn’t totally efficient, but it was more eco friendly and sustainable than the gas powered alternative they had been using before the fragments had set up most of the infrastructure on the island and made repairs to heavily weathered buildings.

Shadow stayed in the generator room for the majority of his time. He took a lot of notice as to how the system worked. He noted some void souls (though he wouldn’t have known what they were at the time) were used in the mechanism to convert some of the pure magical energy into electricity. Shadow observed the mechanics of the magic used to perform this ability, and learnt to replicate it. This is how he learnt to manipulate electricity. Sometimes he would go outside to take a look at what was out there but he never really took a lot of notice. Occasionally a fragment like Lucas or Cecil would come into the generator room to make repairs. However on one occasion, Lucas came in with another fragment, Vivian. They were talking about some kind of big sparring match they were going to have later that night. (The fragments will sparr on occasion, either to settle an argument or a disagreement, sometimes just for fun and to see what kind of skills they had picked up, and sometimes they would do it for training, to push their magical abilities above and beyond, to try and get stronger. This match was for fun.) Lucas had walked up to the main transformer and had put a hand on the live wire. There were a series of sparks as magical energy shot from the generator, up Lucas’ hand, into his body. As he retracted his hand he shook it and made some remark about it stinging a bit when he does that. (As a Visual gag i may also make his hair stick up, like he’s been electrocuted) As he left shadow could see that sparks would occasionally shoot off his body (he was very charged up. Lucas did this because, when sparring, he can only produce so many electric attacks until he’s too tired to continue/focus his energy into any more. When sparring for fun, often Lucas would go down to the generator and get ‘charged up’. This works almost like taking way to many shots of espresso. He’s so hyped up on energy that he doesn’t feel tired and will not sleep. One of the fastest ways to dispel this energy is to let it out as electricity. A similar effect also happens during thunder storms, which I will touch upon in the comic because why the hell would I not?! Also if he ever got hit by lightening he would have so much energy that he would either A. Dispel it all immediately as he differentiates himself involuntarily, or B. Electrically shock anyone who comes 5 meters of him involuntarily. The only time this happens the fragments do a sparring match because eh, cool lighting + tons of sparks = really damn cool shots.)

Shadow, observing that Lucas has electricity based abilities as well, would then try to touch the generator. And it actually works. He gets super hyped up and comes fully sentient and conscious. He may even have left the cave to follow Lucas into the main part of the island, stopping to check out all of the infrastructure there. As the sparring match takes place at a different part of the island, the lights start to flicker for the first time (as a result of shadow touching the circuits out of curiosity and sending fluctuations into the system). Some of the spectators wonder what is going on with the lights but Lucas is too focused to notice. When they bring up the lights to him after the match he explains that they couldn’t be anything to do with him because he knows that’s not how his magic works. He also informs the group that he will check up on the system the next day, fearing he may have accidentally damaged it.

Lucas goes to check the system. Surprise, there’s nothing wrong with it. However over the next few weeks, strange things keep happening to the electronics around the island. Everyone keeps blaming Lucas, even to the point where Lucas grounds himself (completely rids himself of all his magical energy by differentiating himself) as the lights are flickering so everyone knows that it is definitely not him who is messing with the electronics. Luckily this does succeed in convincing the group, however when he’s in the differentiated dimension, he swears he could see someone in the distance playing with the lights. This of course was actually shadow. Who had learnt what circuits to stimulate with energy to cause his desired reactions, and who was now doing it just for fun because he had never seen the fragments arguing with each other so much. When Lucas integrated himself, he informs the group of this mysterious figure and what it looked like it was doing to the lights. Vivian and Lucas both agreed that it sounds like a ghost. And they then spend the next couple of weeks educating themselves on ghost hunting. This in turn causes Cecil to be active way WAY more than normal which gives us some nice interactions between my fave fragment and the rest of the group. Eventually the tension dies down. The lights are still flickering on occasion but it’s now become a mere annoyance. And even if it is a ghost, which Cecil is constantly at work to try and prove, when a fragment went down to the generator room it would always stop. It was only when shadow caused an entire power outage on the island that Cecil decided once and for all to do a ghost hunt.

This is where we get the fun fact that ghosts do exist on the island. There’s a few who are native Maori peoples, some who were from what the island was used for before and one WW2 pilot who says that he had crashed down on the island after failing to land his plane and had accidentally died in the process. These ghosts were the souls of humans who had failed to die. The system of death for TIOP works like this. When a human dies, their soul essentially differentiates itself a bunch of times until it’s essentially nothing but pure magic, and the person stops existing. These souls hadn’t completed the process for whatever reason. Originally Cecil wondered if it was because they were casters, this didn’t always seem to be the case. Eventually he just made the assumption that was a random occurrence. Unfortunately it was unknown if the ghosts could be helped in any way.

That’s more supposed to be a jokey thing. The weird thing for Cecil is that the readings he is getting on his equipment are very low, which matches with the form of differentiation that the humans had managed, but there was one reading that he was receiving, down near the generator, that was sending his equipment off the charts.

It was in one investigation of the cave where the start of chapter 4 kicks off. Cecil was down there with Connor for backup as they had deemed that whatever it was that was causing these readings, it was not going to be a normal human. The readings were much more similar to that of a differentiated fragment, which was a scary thought. Cecil goes into the cave with his equipment and tells Connor to wait at the mouth/go down the beach (just be outside). Connor happily obliges (Connor had quite a fear of generators and big heavy electrical stuff, or maybe even just of the cave, idk, I want to give Connor a fear of electricity but that doesn’t fully match up with lucas’ power set so I may need to work something else out. It was supposed to be that, when he got split from Cassidy, he gained this fear and that it was an important part of his character growth when he overcomes it. Idk.. I’ll work it out another day). As Cecil walks inside the dark cave, his readings get more and more intense. As he tries to communicate with shadow, all that comes out are auditory glitches.

Crap I forgot to mention. Shadow is technically not supposed to exist. The magic of which he is made from should have just dissipated into the void and should not have become conscious. So technically shadow is a ghost. And I play around with the concept that he’s not supposed to exist in a few places. I also give him auditory and visual glitches in scenes where he’s a main player/trying to interact directly with things in the physical realm. Not in a twee way but more in a ‘ohhhh shit’ kinda way. But yeah, if there are glitches in TIOP, 9/10 times it will be because of shadow in some way.

So, everything that Cecil is hearing from his equipment his just audio glitches, and as he approaches this one corner of the cave his actual readings system starts bugging out. Shadow is getting cornered and is now starting to panic. And of course, Vivian is also starting to panic (and by extension, Cecil). There would be more and more white noise as I start to use visual glitches on the comic frames itself until, nothing. It all goes black. We cut to outside where Connor is fiddling with his tech when he hears a huge zap come from behind him, along with seeing this ridiculously bright flash of light. Immediately Connor rushes to Cecil’s aid. Only to find him lying on the ground, motionless. Connor starts to freak out and tries to radio in to Mika to bring help because something’s happened to Cecil and he’s unconscious but hasn’t differentiated himself.

We then cut to Cecil in the differentiated dimension as he slowly opens his eyes (kinda effect like someone was hit over the head and they’re trying to regain consciousness) to discover he’s in the cave still. He looks around, trying to assess what happened. This is when he sees himself, lying on the floor. Lucas makes a quick gag of deja vu to himself before Cecil starts to panic about what’s happening. Here, I get to play around with the concept of fusions in the waiting void. Because I think, this is the first time that this happens. Here I will play around with the thought of two minds/voices in one head where the components of Cecil (Lucas and Vivian) will talk to each other in conversation through Cecil’s voice. Cecil will also have moments of talking with his own voice, when both Lucas and Vivian are more in sync in their mindsets. Cecil sees Connor rushing into the cave to assist him and has a quick moment of ‘aww that dork’ which quickly turns to guilt as they see him panicking, saying that he thinks Cecil got electrocuted. But then, something happens, as Cecil’s thinking to himself ‘Connor srsly, I can’t get electrocuted’ he sees his body, slowly get up off the floor, steady itself on Connor’s shoulder, and walk out the cave. We cut back to Cecil’s face which will look like: ‘O-O wtf wtf wtf WTF WTF WTF WTF WHAT? SORRY WHAT? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHAT!S THE FUCK IS GOING ON HOW WHO WHAT?! DGUNINIHWSXSWCAAHHHHHHHHHH’

And then we turn to chapter 4! The Visitor.

1. Yes, Shadow did possess Cecil

2. No, I do not know how he accidentally does it

3. Hell yes, hyjinks will ensue

[dimpled-gukkie]

Give and Take

Moodboard made by @i-am-today-we-will-survive

Pairing: student heiress! Feminine Reader x art student!Jeon Jungkook ft. platonic best friend Kim Taehyung. (Brief appearances made by Park Jimin, Min Yoongi, and Kim Seokjin). 

Word Count: 20.5k

Warnings: mentions of drinking, taking pain meds (not abusively), belittling parents, incarceration, slight cursing, and allusions to feeling depressive

Genre: Fluff w/ some angst, S2L, College au, kinda a coffee shop au but barely

A/n: I’m sorry I’m a day late on this, I really thought I could get this whole thing written out but I was 4k short yesterday. I promise to get better at time management and not overextend myself. Anyways, yesterday I hit a milestone so this fic is also like a celebration to that. Hopefully you guys enjoy it!

Summary: Love has never come easy to you; you would say you even question if it exists. So when your parents hound you about finding a boyfriend to improve the company image you panic. The only boy you trust enough to bring home is Jeon Jungkook but he doesn’t quite match your parents ideal which means you need to give him a bit of a makeover. Along the way can Jungkook prove to you that love is real or will he just re-affirm your beliefs that it’s a lie?

Your heels clack against the linoleum floors, each step making you wince at the harsh sounds. It’s a stark contrast to the gentle thud of your converse, and you keep your head down as you pass through the hallways. People turn to stare at you as you walk by and you wind your arms around your middle in an effort to comfort yourself. If it were up to you, you’d be tucked into a pair of leggings and and a thin sweater, just warm enough to protect you from the cool breezes of spring. Instead you’re in what could best be described as a summer dress because your father’s words keep going through your head. The first impression is the only thing that matters, so always dress yourself well. In your own mind, you’re merely setting yourself up for being able to wear sweats for the rest of the semester. 

Casting a sparing glance to your phone, your eyes widen in surprise when you notice the time. Class begins in three minutes and you have to cross the entire building. Picking up your pace, you’re nearly to the lecture hall when you smack into someone’s chest while rounding a corner. Papers fly and the sound of a million pencils rolling across the tile haunt you. You’ll surely be late if you stop and help them but you accept your fate. Hastily you swipe the pencils and paper nearest to you, shuffling them into a haphazard pile. The person you crashed into says nothing as you both grab their belongings, only grunting in annoyance. Once everything you can see is collected, you give them the pile of paper and pens that threatens to capsize in your arms. “I’m so sorry.” You begin, looking up to see a pair of dark brown eyes glaring back at you. Their icy gaze causes chills to run up your spine and you find yourself backtracking. “I-I wasn’t looking where I was going and it’s all my fault-“ A deep blush creeps onto your cheeks as the stranger breaks out into a lazy grin, amused by your nervous antics. 

“It’s alright, no big deal.” You nearly get whiplash from his icy stare turning into molten pools as his eyes crinkle around the edges. 

“Well-“ You clear your throat. “Alright then. I have to get to class.” Scurrying past him, you catch a glimpse of a fond smile but don’t pay it much mind. After all, you know too well how fake smiles can be. Upon entering the classroom, all eyes turn to you and you awkwardly shuffle towards an open seat. Of course they’re left in the front row, meaning everyone in the lecture hall watches you plop into your chair and throw your head onto the table in embarrassment. 

“Well now that it seems that everyone is here,” The professor looks at you pointedly.”We may now begin. It should be noted that since this is an upper level business class, I expect you all to dress accordingly. That means no sweats, leggings, or anything less than business casual.” The class lets out a collective groan causing the professor to roll his eyes. “In less than two years, you’ll be entering the work force where you’ll be treated as professional adults. It’s about time you start looking like it.” With that the professor turns back to his slides, beginning his presentation. You could tell this was going to be a long semester. 

A grueling two hours later, you’re finally free and make a break for the door. You’re not sure if you can handle a whole semester of that man. His monotonous voice nearly drove you to sleep, but his sharp eyes kept you from dozing off. It was clear he had disdain for his job and you were worried he would take it out on your class. Taehyung is waiting faithfully outside of the classroom, leaning against the wall directly across. He opens his arms wide when you emerge from the classroom and you hide inside his chest. Nothing is as comforting as crawling into your best friends arms after a rough morning. “How was your first class of the day?” He mumbles against the crown of your head. Sighing you press yourself further into him as you answer. “That bad huh?” He chuckles giving you a squeeze. 

“I want to go back to the apartment.” You whine. You and Taehyung have been roommates since the end of your freshman year when the dorms dumped you both out onto the streets. They don’t appreciate when you smuggle dogs into them apparently. It was on the fateful day, surrounded by your Prada luggage and Taehyung surrounded by his Gucci, that you decided to be roommates. For most it was probably a bad idea to move in with a random stranger, but you and Taehyung clicked so quickly that by the end of the day you were best friends. 

“Me too. I miss Tannie already.” 

“We can skip?” You offer, giving off your best smile. It’s hard to want to go to class when you hate your major. 

“First impressions are the most important remember?” He wiggles his eyebrows and you regret telling him your whole life story. 

“Don’t remind me. Besides my classes suck.” You’re back to whining because being sweet isn’t working. 

“I know.” He rubs his hands down the length of your spine soothingly. “But college is almost over and then when you get the company you can sell it.” 

“I’m sure my dad will love that. He won’t even let me take the classes I want.” Glancing around, the hall is void of any other students, the rest already heading to their next class. You should be too, but you’d rather be with Taehyung. 

“You don’t have to take classes to make it as a writer.” Taehyung points out. You appreciate that he always tries to see the bright side, but sometimes you just want to complain. 

“Yeah. I wish my parents were more like yours though.��� 

“I don’t think so. At least your parents care, in their own twisted way. I don’t even think I really have a family at this point.” He chuckles lightly but you’ve known him for long enough to know it’s to cover his sorrow. He’s pretty good at hiding behind a smile but you’ve know him too well for it to ever fool you. 

“You have me. You’re my family.” Glancing up, chin resting on his chest, you watch as a small smile makes its way onto his features.

“And you’re mine. We’re our own two person family.” 

“Exactly. And why would you want any more members when you already have the best?” 

“Did-did you just refer to yourself as the best?” Taehyung pushes you from his chest and holds onto your shoulders, keeping you at arms width. He suppress the smile trying to make its way onto his face. 

“What? No-no I meant you!” You both fall into a fit of giggles and Taehyung pulls you back into him. 

“I know bubs, you’re just too fun to tease. Now come on, let’s head to class. I’ll walk you there.” Pouting you let Taehyung drag you to your next class and sadly wave goodbye to him. You never have any classes together, aside from that rare time there’s an elective you both manage to snag. Taehyung majors in Art History, something he is actually passionate about, but always manages to be there to walk you to and from classes. You really don’t know what you did to deserve him. Inside, the classroom is already pretty full, only a few seats empty here or there. Walking towards the back, you sit down quietly next to a boy with his head down. Taking out your AirPods you pop them in to listen to some music before class starts. Taehyung always makes sure that you arrive a little early to class, the only exception being this morning because he has a class earlier than your own. You just hit play on your music when the boy next to you turns to face you. Looking over you realize it’s the same one from this morning. 

“Oh hi.” You wave awkwardly and take one earbud out. 

“Hi.” He smiles and now that you have the time to really look at him you notice his whole face crinkles when he grins. “Airpods huh?” He gestures to the one in your hand. 

“Yeah. I don’t speak broke.” You both fall into a fit of giggles at your lame joke and you reach out to give your earbud to him. “You can listen too if you want. I wouldn’t say my playlist is the best but it’s good enough.” Grinning he takes it and bops his head dramatically to the beat coming from them. 

“I don’t know what you mean. This is great.” Rolling your eyes you slide your phone over to him with the music app open. 

“Fine then. You pick something.” 

“Let me show you what intellectuals listen to.” His grin becomes earsplitting as he shields the device from your prying eyes and you gradually become more concerned. You shouldn’t have trusted him. The beginning of Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley begins to trickle through the speakers and you try your best to snatch the phone back from him but he holds it out to his other side. 

“I can’t believe you just rick rolled me.” You groan, struggling to hide a laugh of your own. “I don’t even know you yet and you’re already messing with me.” He turns to you suddenly serious and his face falls. 

“You mean, you share your headphones with just anybody?” Pouting he hands you back the device and guilt already begins to eat away at you. 

“No I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t really share them with anybody but I’m comfortable around you for some reason even though we only met this morning so I guess we’re not really stra-“ 

“I’m just teasing.” He cuts you off from your rambling. “I’m Jungkook.” He says sticking out his hand. Gently you place yours in his and he shakes it firmly. 

“Y/n.” 

“There you go, now we’re not strangers.” He smiles and you find yourself smiling back. You’re not sure what exactly makes you trust him so much. He’s just so warm and bright, reminiscent of Taehyung. He makes you feel safe and protected, something you haven’t really felt in a long time. Maybe it’s a mistake, but you decide that you want to keep him around. The professor enters the room and calls for your attention, effectively ending the conversation. 

That night you’re curled up next to Taehyung on the couch of your apartment, the dogs sprawled across your laps. “Who was that boy in your second class?” Taehyung asks, absentmindedly playing with your hair. 

“Taehyung there’s lots of boys in my second class. You need to be more specific.” 

“The one with the red hair. He kept glancing at you when we were talking after your class.” You rack your mind for someone with red hair before mentally facepalming. 

“That’s Jungkook. I think we’re friends now.” Taehyung raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Really? You don’t really trust people after him.” 

“Yeah I know, but there’s just something about Jungkook. He makes me feel safe.” 

“Well that’s good. I’ll have to meet him though, make sure he knows that if he ever hurts you I’ll beat his ass.” 

“Tae we only just became friends.” You groan hiding your face in his neck. 

“I don’t care. As long as we’re best friends it’s my job to make sure no one will hurt you.” 

“Ah yes, big bad Taehyung. You’ll really scare them away with that boxy smile.” You tease pinching his soft cheeks for extra measure. 

“Shut up.” He swats your hands away. “Besides I have a very manly voice. I’ll just use that to my advantage.” Nodding you rest your head against his shoulder, attention focusing back on the tv. “You tired?” Taehyung asks softly. You lightly nod in response. “Come on then.” Gently he scoops you up and places you onto your bed, shuffling the comforter up to your chin. “Sleep well okay?” Nodding, you watch with half-lidded eyes as he walks over towards your door. “Goodnight bubs.” 

“Goodnight Tae.

The next morning you’re enjoying your day without class, walking hand in hand with Taehyung. He swings your connected hands in large swooping motions, giggling childishly at the action. “Ahh I missed this.” He says and you roll your eyes, albeit your heart does grow a tad warmer. 

“Tae we see each other everyday. We live together.” 

“Yeah but it’s not the same. I have you all to myself today.” Grinning he pulls you into him, stopping to give you a bear hug in the middle of the street. Hugging him back tightly you rub his upper back, sensing a shift in his attitude. Maybe something happened last night after you went to bed that upset him and is making him so starved for affection. 

“You okay?” You murmur into his ear, ignoring the annoyed grunts and huffs of air the people around you are giving. 

“Your parents called me last night.” You feel yourself turn rigid in his arms, and this time it’s Taehyung rubbing soothing circles down your back. 

“Why? What did they want?” You’re not exactly sure how they got Taehyung’s number seeing as they only know him from the time they stopped by your apartment uninvited. They were solely against the idea of you living with a male until they found out Taehyung also came from a wealthy family. They couldn’t stop talking about him and pressuring you to make a move until you broke the news that Taehyung was already engaged to someone else. Truthfully, Taehyung was just as single as you but your parents would never accept the fact that you and Taehyung would only ever be friends regardless of his beauty or wealth. After finding out Taehyung was a no-go your parents have never mentioned Taehyung again and you had thought they’d completely forgotten him. 

“They called me and pleaded that I break off my engagement and court you instead.” Your cheeks turn a hot shade of pink and you hide yourself in his neck. 

“They really think I’m that much of a lost cause that they have to do my bidding huh? Did they offer you money? Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

“Bubs…” Taehyung warns, his tone of voice telling you not to ask questions you don’t want the answer to. 

“How much?” Your voice is muffled by his sweatshirt but his sigh signifies he still heard you. 

“1 million.” 

“That low huh? I guess my worth has decreased over time.” You laugh humorously. “To them that’s the equivalent of 20 dollars.” 

“Well you’re priceless to me, if that makes you feel any better.” 

“Thanks Taehyungie.” You pat his shoulder a few times before disentangling yourself from his grip. “Now come on, I definitely need some coffee to get me through the day.” Pulling him into the first shop you see, you’re welcomed by a soft yellow light emitted from the lights strung along the ceiling and soft piano music filtering through the speakers. The smell of freshly ground coffee beans swirls through the air, the smell like the soft flutter of a butterfly’s wings rather than pungent and assaulting. You’re too busy looking around to notice the boy with familiar red hair, dark eyes, and crinkly smile, which comes on full display when he notices your presence. 

“Y/N!” Looking over towards the register you finally take notice of the beaming boy. 

“Oh, he-hey Jungkook.” You move to rub the back of your neck nervously but end up pulling Taehyung’s arm with you, completely forgetting that you’re attached. Jungkook’s eyes dart down to your conjoined hands, as do yours, and his smile droops a little. 

“Hey. What can I get you both today?” 

“A medium vanilla iced coffee for me and then a large strawberry smoothie for him please.” Jungkook types in your order before turning the screen around for you to pay. He says nothing after you swipe your card and enter your pin, just turns around to start making your drinks. 

Taehyung gives you a weird look before leaning in to whisper in your ear as you wait to get your drinks, “I thought you said you were friends?” 

“We are?” You’re just as confused as Taehyung about Jungkook’s sudden change in mood. He seemed so happy before to see you, but now he won’t even speak to you. 

“Mmm. I don’t like him.” 

“He’s really nice. Maybe he’s just having a bad day?” 

“Just be careful alright? I don’t want a repeat of-“ 

“Your order is ready.” Jungkook cuts Taehyung off gruffly. You flash him a concerned look but he ignores it and heads back over to the register. Maybe Taehyung is right. Is Jungkook even worth it?

The next time you see Jungkook is your shared class together three days later. He’s sitting in the same spot as last week and part of you wants to go sit somewhere else. Your heart wins out though and you decide to sit next to him anyways. Everyone has bad days, you shouldn’t hold it against him. Pulling out your headphones and notebook you place them on your desk and out of the corner of your eye see Jungkook giving you a soft smile. “Feel like sharing?” He asks. 

“You want to be AirPod buddies? Hmm… I don’t know.” His grin turns into a pout, plush bottom lip jutting out considerably. His eyes twinkle like they’ve captured the stars. “Fine.” You huff and roll your eyes.

He grins happily as he pops the bud in, and bops his head happily side to side. A fond smile stretches across your face and it’s like the coffee shop incident never happened. It must’ve really been a bad day. You both sit at the desk bopping along happily until the professor comes in and you both set the headphones aside. You’re halfway through the lecture when a loud crinkling sounds next to you, and when the people around you also turn their heads toward the sound, Jungkook is frozen with hunched shoulders and wide eyes, a bag of banana chips clutched between his fingers. You struggle to hide your giggle, eyes scrunched as your body shakes in silent laughter. When everyone finally turns their sharp gazes away, Jungkook lightly shoves your shoulder. “I can’t believe you laughed in my time of need.” He whines. 

“It’s your own fault for trying to open up a bag of chips in a quiet room.” 

“Just for that I’m not sharing.” He sticks his tongue out at you when you spare him a glance. 

“Alright banana boy.” You snicker. A pout grows on his face at your words and you resist the urge to poke his jutted lip in response. It’s odd for you to feel so affectionate towards someone so quickly, Taehyung’s really the only one who brings it out in you, but you don’t want to shake off this feeling. It feels warm like friendship and it’s been a while since you’ve made a real friend after Taehyung. When Jungkook starts getting back into the lesson and is too focused on his notes to realize you inching your hand towards the bag, you quickly swipe a few chips and push them into your mouth to hide the evidence. You’re too busy grinning at your “sneaky” plan working to notice Jungkook tilt his head to the side quickly and poking his tongue into his cheek to hide his smile. He definitely saw you but if you were going to get so happy over sneaking chips he offered, he’d let it slide. 

When class is over and you are gathering your notebook and pens, Jungkook softly taps on your shoulder, twirling the AirPod around in his fingers. “Do you maybe -um- want to go grab a coffee or something? You don’t have to, I mean you’re probably busy but-“ His face gets increasingly redder the longer he rambles, becoming more and more flustered. 

“Sure. Just let me text Tae and tell him I have plans, unless he can come with us?”

Scratching the back of his neck he gives you a tight lipped smile. “Yeah sure. The more the merrier right?” 

You look at him skeptically before raising an eyebrow. “You sure?” 

“Yup.” Walking outside the classroom, Taehyung is once again leaning against the wall and when he notices you both come out together he raises an eyebrow. You dismiss it with a roll of the eyes but a blush still makes it’s way up your neck and onto your cheeks. The three of you walk out of the building in an awkward silence, the tension almost palpable. Pursing your lips, you wring your hands together, lost on what the route of the tension is and how to solve it. 

“So umm… what are you planning on getting?” You turn to ask Jungkook. He gives you a small smile. 

“I was thinking something sweet. Maybe a caramel macchiato.” 

“Oo good choice. Maybe I’ll get that too.” 

“It’d definitely be more exciting than a vanilla iced coffee.” He snickers. In result you shove his arm and he practically throws himself onto the grass next to the sidewalk, rolling a few times while clutching his “injury”. “Yah! Who knew someone so small was so strong? Be careful will you? I could’ve broken my arm or something!” Rolling your eyes you stifle your giggles behind the sleeve of your sweater. 

“You’re a dork.” 

“You know, surprisingly I’ve heard that before.” He chuckles while picking himself off the grass. 

“Wow that is surprising.” Jungkook rolls his eyes in response and opens his mouth to say something before Taehyung interjects. 

“Now now children. Let’s not fight.” 

You and Jungkook both huff and mumble, “I’m not a child.” 

“If you have to refute it, then you probably are.” Squinting your eyes, you give him your best glare but he ignores it. “Where are we going anyways?” 

“My place.” Jungkook grumbles. His eyes widen as he registers his words meanwhile you and Taehyung have stopped to stare at him. 

“Umm.. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression but-“ You begin but Jungkook frantically waves his hands while shaking his head. 

“No no not my place my place like my coffee shop. My place of work. This is so awkward, I’m so sorry. I swear I’m not like that.” Taehyung giggles behind you as a bead of nervous sweat trickles down Jungkook’s head the longer you remain silent. His gaze is pleading as he stares, praying he hasn’t ruined his chances. 

“Jungkook it’s fine. I figured that’s what you meant.” Taehyung is still giggling as you make your way towards Jungkook’s cafe, the same one you visited a few days ago. The bell chimes above your heads as you enter and the boy behind the counter whips his head up at the sound. “Kookie!” He yells, grin so wide that his eyes squint to the point that they’re nearly closed. 

“Ahh,, hi Jimin.” Jungkook smiles, voice soft. 

“Look at you making friends. I never thought the day would come.” The cashier teases while wiping a fake tear. “My Jungkookie is all grown up.” Jungkook rolls his eyes.  

“This is Y/N and uhh,,,” 

“Taehyung, but most people call me Tae.” Taehyung sticks his hand out to shake Jimin’s and Jimin winks at you when they release. 

“So you’re Y/N..” A smirk grows on his face as he gives you a once over and your cheeks heat up. 

“Yup, that’s me.” You smile awkwardly. 

“Okay well now that introductions are over, how about taking our order?” Jungkook steps in front of you, shielding you from Jimin’s gaze. 

“Sure thing.” 

“Two caramel macchiatos and a- what did you want?” Jungkook asks turning to Taehyung. 

“Strawberry smoothie.” 

“Yeah that.” While Jimin’s punching in the order you squeeze between Jungkook and Taehyung. “What are you doing?” Jungkook asks watching as you take out your debit card. 

“Paying?” Reaching out to hand Jimin the card, Jungkook places his hand over your own to stop you. 

“No I got this. Don’t worry.” 

“Jungkook it’s really no big deal.” You begin.

“Y/N it’s really no big deal.” Sighing you put your hand back down, realizing this argument is futile. Jungkook is too determined. 

“It really is no big deal. He’s got that employee discount anyways.” Jimin teases, leaning against the counter as he shakes in laughter. Pink dusts Jungkook’s cheeks and your heart hurts a little because he’s so cute. But you only mean it in a friendly manner, at least that’s what you tell yourself.

Ever since you’ve gotten coffee with Jungkook and Taehyung you’ve felt giddy. The type of giddy where your whole body feels like a live wire budding with electricity. You deduce it must be because you’ve made a new friend. You’ve finally found someone new to let in, someone who doesn’t seem to only want you for your contacts or bank account. Not that they’re even yours to begin with. Growing up in a household where your father was the youngest CEO of the largest distribution companies in the country meant you were always more than comfortable. You could get whatever you asked for, money came in like it really did grow on trees. Your biggest worry though, focused on the people outside your immediate family. Crooks and snakes lied around every corner, waiting to strike the naive girl you once were. The type who gave love so freely and in such an abundance that you couldn’t fathom the greed or cruelty that overtook humanity so easily. When you did finally see it, it felt like all the warmth and love you had was sucked out of you, leaving you this shell of a person. For a long time you didn’t really know how to be, the new you was so cynical, so cold. It wasn’t until you met Taehyung and truly trusted him that the flicker of life in you came back. That’s part of the reason you and Taehyung are so close, seeing as he made you feel human again. 

With a smile on your face even throughout your classes, nothing can break your mood, not the grumpy old man who loiters in the lobby of your apartment building yelling at the people at the front desk or the loud stomping of the people on the floor above you. Smiling widely, you flop onto the couch and both pups jump onto you, Tannie settling in your lap and your own dog lying on your chest giving you a few licks on your jawline. “Hi babies!” Craning your neck up, you pat them both on their heads before settling fully back down. 

“Why didn’t I get that kind of excitement when I picked you up from class earlier?” Taehyung whines, nudging your legs aside to make room for himself on the couch. 

“Oh, hey Tae! I didn’t see you there.” You voice drips in faux excitement making Taehyung roll his eyes. “Aww come on. You know I’m always happy to see you.” 

“And?” Taehyung pushes, eyes wide and hopeful. 

“And?” 

“I can wait all day you know.” Resting one arm on the back of the couch he shifts to his side to stare at you head-on. 

“I love you.” A boxy grin two sizes too big stretches across his features and you’re sure if they dogs weren’t on your lap, he would’ve tackled you. It’s not often that you say I love you, what with all that happened last time. 

“I love you too! You should really say that more often. It makes my day.” He’s practically beaming and you consider maybe just for him you’ll try and say it more frequently. After all, there’s no risk of losing Taehyung. You’ll be best friends even in death. 

“I might.” You mumble, half hoping he won’t hear you but also hoping he will. After all he’s done for you, you could at least give him this. 

The rest of the night is spent how every night is, you and Taehyung wrapped in pillows and blankets while surrounded by take-out boxes, the pups waiting fervently to catch any spillage. The whole time though, thoughts of a certain red haired, crinkly smiled boy swirls through your head leaving a small smile on your face even when you’re asleep. 

You find yourself back in your dreaded class, the same eyes as before judging you for your outfit choice. Did the professor say that you were supposed to dress nicely? Yes. Are you going to dress nicely though when you hate your major and have to study it at 7 am every morning? No. So here you are in your comfiest sweats and one of Taehyung’s hoodies, nursing a coffee that’s not nearly as good as the one Jungkook made a few days ago. The professor walks in and his beady eyes land right on you and you give him your best fake smile before grabbing your notebook out of your backpack. “I see some of us have forgotten the dress code.” He begins and all eyes fall to you. “Today I’ll let it slide, but next time you’ll start to notice an effect on your grade.” His eyes say try me and you shrink a little into yourself on the inside, even though you don’t let it show. You make eye contact with the class TA named Seokjin and he winks at you before mouthing something unintelligible, well at least to you. He definitely said something to garner the giggles of the girls around you but you’ve always been bad at reading lips. You just smile awkwardly before turning back to your notes.

When class ends, he saunters over to you, placing both hands on the desk before leaning into you. His wide shoulders shadow part of your desk leaving you feeling caged in, but not in a good way. “I’m Seokjin.” 

“I know.” His smirk widens. “Kinda need to know the name of the TA in case I have questions.” The smirk falls a little and you can’t help your swell of pride from knocking him off his high horse. 

“Well I thought it was real sexy how you stood up to the professor like that. He’s a prick.” Seokjin says. 

“Thanks. Well, I have to go. My friend is waiting for me.” You point to Taehyung who’s leaning against the wall like he does everyday. He won’t admit it but he definitely does it for the wallflower aesthetic. Seokjin’s eyes follow the direction your finger is pointing in and he stiffens when he notices Taehyung. 

“Friend?” He asks as he follows you towards the door of the classroom. 

“Mmhmm.” Taehyung wraps his arm around your shoulder when you you walk out sensing your discomfort. 

“Well, you should come to my party. It’s at my frat. Free entry for pretty girls.” He winks and you lean further into Taehyung. 

“Free entry for him and I’ll think about it.” Seokjin gives Taehyung a once over, like he’s assessing whether he’s more attractive than him. 

“Free entry for both if you come.” 

“You drive a hard bargain but I’ll accept.” You stick out your hand to shake on it and when you pull away a folded note is left on your hand. 

“I mean I study business so.. But I’ll see you later, Y/N. Maybe we could even hang out before the party?” He smiles before walking away with a small wave. Opening the folded note, his number is scrawled across in red ink along with a wink and a heart. 

“How can you be so greasy in a note?” You ask, scrunching your nose in disgust. Throwing the note in the nearest trashcan, you and Taehyung speed walk to your next class, seeing as your little chat with “mr. worldwide handsome” put you behind schedule. 

Jungkook chuckles as you race into class moments before the professor and settle down in the seat next to him. “Running late?” He asks. 

“No I just decided to have to run to class today for fun.” You roll your eyes and shake your head, not bothering to fight the smile stretching across your face. 

“You sure have an interesting idea of fun then.” He pushes his tongue inside his cheek and tilts his head a little, fighting back a large smile but leaving his eyes twinkling. 

“Well what’s your idea of fun?” 

“Going to the countryside, photoshoots, painting.” He whispers, both of you neglecting the lecture going on at the front of the room. 

“Spoken like a true wannabe art hoe.” You giggle and wink at him. He puffs out his cheeks in a pout and you can’t help but poke a finger into one of them, effectively making him blow out the air. 

“First of all if anyone’s the wannabe it’s you and your paint stained hoodie. I bet you bought that from Urban with the paint smears just to be quirky.”

“Someone’s defensive.” You snicker. “Besides it’s not even mine. It’s Tae’s and he actually studies art for his major.” You stick your tongue out at him for extra measure. 

“Well so do I so ha!” He sticks his tongue back out at you and you both fall into a fit of giggles at your childish antics. 

“You’re such a dork.” You laugh. 

“Takes one to know one.” He sings. 

“Remind me why we’re friends again?” 

“You mean… I’ve been upgraded from desk mate to friend?” Jungkook sniffles and wipes under his eye like he’s catching tears. “This is such an honor.” You shove his arm but he doesn’t even move. 

“I hate you.” You pout crossing your arms over your chest. “I was just trying to be nice and-“ 

“Ahh you know I’m teasing. Besides we both know you’re only my friend for the banana chips.” Reaching into his bag, he pulls out two packets of banana chips and hands you one. “Now we can wreak havoc together!” 

The next day you and Taehyung coincidentally end up at the coffee shop Jungkook works at. Taehyung says nothing the whole time you’re ordering, opting to just look at you with this big grin as Jungkook turns to make your drinks. “What?” You ask sharply. 

“Oh nothing, just find it funny that out of all the coffee shops in town we had to walk five extra blocks to come here.” He shifts his weight between his heels and toes, rocking back and forth and looking up while he says it. You glare at him in response. 

“Maybe I just like it better here? Did you think of that?” 

“Or maybe you just like a certain worker better here.” 

“Is it wrong that I want to see my friend?” Taehyung coughs loudly muttering boyfriend in between. “No. I don’t do boyfriends.” 

“Don’t do boyfriends?” Jungkook interjects, his brows furrowed and lips pursed as if he’s displeased. 

“Ahh,, let’s just say I don’t have a good history with them.” 

“With one.” Taehyung says, holding up one finger to Jungkook to really emphasize your lack of experience. 

“It only takes one bad experience to ruin something. Besides it’s alright, I’ve coped with dying alone.” You shrug. 

“That’s a little morbid. Don’t you think maybe you should give it another shot? Find someone who’ll treat you better?” Jungkook pushes, holding onto your drinks. He keeps them close to his chest though like they’re tethering you to him, making you stay. 

“That’s what Taehyung’s for,” You pat his arm a few times. “Who needs a boyfriend when you have a best friend that provides you with everything you need sans romance, of course.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Jungkook pushes your drinks towards you, his mouth sadly quirked up in one corner. 

“Not quite. Since I’m getting married soon, you’ll need someone to take home to your parents.” Taehyung says, winking at Jungkook. Both of your faces turn scarlet and you hastily pull Taehyung out of the shop, not even taking the time to say goodbye to a stunned Jungkook. 

“What the hell Tae?” You exclaim when you’re a safe distance from the shop and the cool breeze soothes your burning skin. 

“What? I was doing you a favor. Planting a seed if you will.” 

“I won’t.” Grabbing your drink from his hands, you stomp away towards your apartment with Taehyung trotting happily behind you. You’re not paying much mind when you’re shoving your key into the door of the apartment, mind still reeling over the incident back at the coffee shop. What if Jungkook doesn’t want to be friends anymore? What if Jungkook thinks you like him? “I can’t believe you told Jungkook I need someone to take home to my parents.” You’re not looking as you enter too busy scowling back at Taehyung who’s standing behind you. He looks a tad guilty now, finally sensing your distress over the situation and it makes you feel a little better. He shouldn’t be pressuring you into getting a boyfriend, let alone one meeting your parents, when he knows the wreck you were left in last time. 

Later that week Taehyung convinces you to go to the university art exhibit with him. The gallery is made up entirely of student compositions and there’s even a small scholarship given to the creator of the best piece, voted by the art board staff. It’s a requirement for all students in the art programs to attend even if they haven’t entered a composition, hence why Taehyung is here. As a fellow art hoe, mainly a sucker for textured paintings, it really didn’t take much for you to give up your Saturday afternoon. Walking around there’s many pieces of all forms: paintings, prints, sculptures. You must spend at least three hours wandering from piece to piece discussing your own interpretations of the pieces and their meanings. Nothing has quite caught your eye yet, but Taehyung has become enraptured with a piece called ‘Squirrel trapped in a garden’. The ceramic squirrel sits in the center of a clear vase turned upside down and Taehyung can’t seem to pull himself away. While he stands staring at the woodland creature, you move on ahead of him to a painting tucked in the back of the venue. It’s a mixed media piece, the melancholy theme of it all contrasting with the bright colors. Your hand itches to run across the gray canvas and touch the raised paint and trace the harshly etched lines making up the face. An array of rainbow makes up half of the man’s hair and the color seeps from his eye like tears and trips down his face off his chin. It’s almost like the color is being drained out of him, spilling from the cracks that line his face. 

You’re too engrossed in the painting to notice the sudden presence beside you leaning in close to whisper, “What do you think?” 

“Hmm?” You ask turning to jump back when you realize Jungkook’s face is mere inches from your own. 

“About the painting.” 

“Right. I think the juxtaposition of the dark theme but bright colors makes for a really interesting piece. I like that it’s open ended. Is he becoming darkness as his colors fade to grey or is light breaking through his dark facade?” 

“Which do you think?” 

“I feel like you’re going to psychoanalyze me based on my answer.” You joke.

“Just answer the question.” 

“I think he’s being taken over by darkness.” 

“Interesting. I would’ve pegged you for the type to choose sunshine and rainbows.” Jungkook says. 

“I once was.” You scoff, almost mad at yourself for your past mentality. You were a fool. 

“What happened?” Jungkook presses, moving to stand in front of you as you refuse to take your eyes off the painting. 

“It’s a long story.” 

“We’ve got time.” 

“Correction, you’ve got time. I have to get ready for a party.” You say. 

“A party? Where?” 

“Kim Seokjin’s frat.” 

“How’d you get in? He’s real picky about his invite list.” 

“What can I say? The people love me.” Jungkook scoffs and rolls his eyes. 

“Well if you’re going then so am I. Can’t let you get drunk alone.” 

“I’d be in a house full of other people but okay.” You don’t tell him that you were planning on going with Taehyung anyways. You’re not exactly sure why, he’ll find out when you arrive together, but you’re afraid he won’t come if Taehyung does. 

The front door of the frat looms above you, your body nearly vibrating from the bass of the music coming from the house. You can taste the regret already as you walk inside, wrapping your hand around Taehyung’s as he pushes his way through the dense crowd of people. You pull Jungkook behind you by the belt loop, too awkward to grab onto his hand but not wanting to loose him. You release them both when you enter the kitchen, opting to hold onto a red solo cup instead. The only way you’ll be able to get through this party is with a little liquor in your system. Mixing yourself a little drink you turn towards the boys and only Jungkook grabs one too. Taehyung decides to be the sober one for tonight and watch over your little trio but you feel like it’s really to watch for Seokjin. Something about him is off-putting. Maybe it’s because he reminds you of your father. 

Speaking of Seokjin, at just that moment you have the misfortune of making eye contact with him from across the room. He smiles and nudges a boy with dimpled cheeks before nodding in your direction. The boy gives Seokjin a clap on the back before he makes his way over, the partygoers parting for him like the red sea. “Y/n.” He says, standing on the other side of the island. 

“Seokjin.” 

“Y/n’s friend and boy I don’t remember inviting.” He says nodding to Taehyung and Jungkook respectively. 

“Jungkook is with me.” 

“i thought I only gave you one plus one.” Seokjin smiles sweetly, to contrast his sharp tone. He really is picky about his invite list.

“That would be Jungkook. Taehyung got his own invitation remember?” You turn your head to the side and smile at him sweetly. It just feels so nice to one up him. 

“Ah, smart girl. You’re a true business student, always looking for loopholes.” Seokjin reaches across the island and swipes your cup, taking a swig. 

“Poor taste in alcohol though.” He coughs throwing your drink in the trash. “Here let me make you a new one.” 

“No!” Taehyung and Jungkook yell simultaneously.  

“Fine.” Seokjin says throwing his hands up in the air. “She can make her own drink, but she has to dance with me first.” Seokjin winks at you and your skin crawls. Something about this doesn’t feel right. 

“I think I’ll take my chances with the drink.” You say. 

“A shame. Most people would kill for a dance with the Kim Seokjin.” 

“I’m sure.” Jungkook snarks under his breath causing you to laugh. After your drink is mixed and back in your hands, the four of you stand in an awkward silence until the dimpled boy calls for Seokjin and he disappears from sight. You all immediately relax and Taehyung leaves for the bathroom, comfortable to leave you unattended for a few minutes. 

You turn to Jungkook once you’re alone in the kitchen, placing Seokjin’s drink in the sink. “So, I was meaning to ask but did you enter a piece in the art show today?” 

His cheeks dust pink, making his red hair a little softer. “Y-yeah.” His gaze focuses on the floor between you two and he smiles at something in his head. “You really seemed to like it.” 

“That was yours?” You exclaim, shocked that something dark could come from the boy whose eyes and smile shine. 

“Yup.” 

“So which one? Did you make him radiate light or darkness?” You ask, referring to the question he’d asked you earlier. 

“I can’t tell you, that defeats the whole purpose of interpretation. But I will tell you the answer I’d give today is different than the original one.” 

“That’s even more confusing.” You whine. Jungkook just grins. 

“Good. Art is supposed to make you think.” 

“Hey, did they announce who won?” You ask and Jungkook’s smile falls a little. 

“Yeah, something with a squirrel?” 

“You mean that squirrel piece beat your painting? I have to question the judges then because yours was definitely the best one there.” 

“You think so?” His blush deepens a shade but you blame it on the heat of the room. 

“Of course! I was even thinking of buying it to put up in the apartment.” 

“You don’t have to buy it. I’ll just give it to you.” 

“No, I couldn’t just take it. It’s a work of art, not some child’s painting.” Reaching into your purse you pull out your emergency cash before pushing it towards Jungkook. “Here, take it as a downpayment on the painting. I’ll give you the rest tomorrow.” 

‘Woah, woah, woah. Slow down there. I’m not charging you for it. Think of it as a gift.” Jungkook says, putting your cash back inside your purse. 

“Well at least let me do something for you in exchange.” 

“Take me out for breakfast tomorrow. I could use a pick-me-up after the headache I’ll get from this music.” 

“O-okay. Here, I’ll give you my number and you can text me when you wake up.” Handing over your phone, he types in his number before taking a derpy photo up close to the camera as his contact photo. It’s so close in fact that all you can see is his nose and eyes. “Kook, that’s gonna be so scary when you call me.” You whine, staring down at the photo with a pout. 

“Scary? Why because your heart will skip a beat at my handsome face?” He quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“More like because you look like some deranged fish.” 

“Just for that you don’t get a contact photo.” Jungkook says as he makes your contact. What did you do to deserve this treatment? 

Your phone blares at six a.m. and you groan, having just gotten to sleep a little past two a.m. You’d made the most of the night, what with all the free alcohol, and your head throbs. You’re contemplating letting the call ring out until you turn over the device and are greeted by an intimate view of Jungkook’s face. Annoyedly you swipe to answer, croaking out a “what?” 

“You said to let you know when I wake up.” Jungkook sounds much to awake and happy for how much he drank last night.

“Who wakes up at 6 am after a night of drinking? How are you even alive?” 

“I just don’t get hungover.” 

“Lucky you. My head is pounding.” 

“I’ll pick up coffee and ibuprofen on the way. Drop me the location of your apartment.” Jungkook says and you don’t think much of it. You’re drifting in and out of consciousness for about fifteen minutes when there’s a knock on the door. You could yell for Taehyung to get it even though you know who it is, but that seems too cruel. No one should be up at the crack of dawn involuntarily. Standing up you pull your comforter along with you, wrapping it around your head like a hooded cape. You acknowledge that you probably look ridiculous but it’s too early for you to care. The knocking persists even as you move towards the door and you hurry across the living room, throwing the door open so the dogs don’t start barking. “Hi.” Jungkook smiles, cherry hair a tad messy from sleep. 

“Hey kook.” Turning around you plop down onto the couch and Jungkook follows. 

“You look ready to go.” Jungkook teases. 

“Oh I am. Blanket and all.” 

“Good, it’s cute.” He pats the top of your head for extra measure. You sputter a little as your brain malfunctions. Is Jungkook…flirting with you? 

“Okay, let’s go!” Standing abruptly you sway a little from moving too fast. 

“You gotta take your meds first.” Jungkook says, unscrewing the cap on the ibuprofen and handing you two along with your drink. 

“Thanks.” You murmur unsheathing yourself from the blanket. “Now I’m good to go.” Jungkook gives you a once over and your cheeks flare up a little. You’re only in a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt. 

“You sure you’ll be warm enough?” 

“Aww are you worried about me?” You tease, tempted to pinch his cheek. 

“Eww no.” He scrunches his nose and gets up to open the front door. “Now come on, I’m hungry.” 

A fifteen minute walk later and you’re seated in a small diner, your coffee Jungkook brought you long gone but replaced by another. Jungkook chose to get a hot chocolate because “coffee should cease to exist” which you can’t help but find a little ironic seeing as he works in a coffee shop. Your waitress is a young girl in her twenties who seems bored to death. She just stands by the till repeatedly stirring her coffee with a small spoon. “So you and Taehyung?” Jungkook asks after taking a small sip of his drink. 

“Me and Taehyung what?” 

“Are you two together or something?” oHis fingers drum on the table like he’s waiting with anticipation. 

“Oh no. Tae and I are just friends. He’s basically my brother.” Your nose scrunches in displeasure at the idea of you and Taehyung being something romantic. 

“Ahh. So you live together for fun?” 

“Yeah, it’s nice having someone to come home to. Plus the rent isn’t cheap.” You may be rich but you’re not about to drop 4k a month on rent. 

“Yeah your place is really nice. Much nicer than mine.” 

“I’m sure your place isn’t bad.” 

“It’s not. Just compared to yours it’s a dump and yet I’m still barely able to pay my half of the rent even though it’s considerably cheaper. Student loans are a bi-“ 

“Here’s your orders.” The waitress sets your stack of pancakes down and Jungkook’s breakfast burrito down. “Need anything else?” You can tell she’s only asking because she has to. 

You and Jungkook both shake your heads and she heads back to the till. You both fall silent as you eat, merely enjoying each other’s company. You watch the world outside begin to wake up as the sun rises and people begin to venture outside. You like this, being outside when the world is still half asleep. It’s peaceful, a stark contrast to the usually busy streets of the city your college is tucked into. When your plates are both clear, do you and Jungkook pick back up conversation. “This is my favorite time to be out, you know? When you can just move at your own pace and the city feels like it’s yours.” 

“It’s nice. Normally I’m still asleep but I like watching the world wake up.” He hums in agreement. “Is this what inspires your artwork?” 

“Sometimes. I just find I can think clearly during this time of day.” 

“Probably the lack of distraction.” 

“Do you have any passions?” A blush dots your cheeks as you pull at the hem of your shirt. 

“Writing.” Your family has never been fond of your hobby. You aspired to become an author but your family quickly vetoed it. An author isn’t a respectable career in their eyes. You think it’s just because it’s not a big money maker. 

“Like poems or stories?” 

“Stories. I wrote a novel but I haven’t had anyone read it yet.” 

“I’m not much of a wordsmith but if you ever do decide to share it, I’d be down to be the first reader.” A grin stretches across your face and you look up to meet his eyes, shining with sincerity. Everything suddenly feels warm. 

Three weeks later and two 6 a,m. friend diner dates with Jungkook later, you’ve both decided to make it a weekly Sunday hangout, and you’re standing in front of the cafe Jungkook works at. You made sure to learn his schedule so he wouldn’t be here today, because surely he would sense you’re up to something. Your hand shakes with anxiety and you nearly drop the papers you’re holding in your hands as you walk up to the counter and ask for the manager. Glancing back at the ‘hiring’ sign in the window you take a big breath and remember who you’re doing this for. Jungkook has mentioned for a few weeks now about how broke he is, and you know he’s joking and that it’s common for a student to struggle financially, but it hurts you. Seeing as you’ve never had that worry you want to help him out and alleviate his stress as any good friend would. But seeing as you’ve never worked anyone before, you’d rather have the comfort of Jungkook beside you. “H-hi.” You stumble awkwardly when the manager comes out to meet you. Wiping your hand on your pants quickly, you shake her hand. “I saw your and filled out the application.” You’re ninety-percent sure your voice is shaking. 

“Great! I’ll give this a look through and call you if we decide you’re a good fit.” Your heart stumbles a little. You thought they’d just give you the job right away. That’s how it happens in movies. 

“O-okay. Have a great day.” Hurrying out, you rush back to your apartment trying to outrun your embarrassment. You accidentally slam the door which alerts Taehyung who sticks his head out of his room. 

“What’s up with you?” He asks, moving from his room to the couch in the living room. 

“I just applied for a job.” His eyes go wide as he stills before motioning for you to sit down next to him. 

“Why? It’s not like we need the money.” He laughs. 

“I- uh I wanted to help.” His brows burrow as he tries to detect the hidden meaning to your words. 

“Help? Who? Jungkook?” Your cheeks flare up at his more than right accusation. “I should’ve known.” 

“I thought he could use a little extra money. To help with his student loans and stuff.” 

“That’s sweet. Taking care of your man and all.” 

“He’s not my man, Tae.” 

“But you wish he was.” Taehyung sings and you scoff. 

“Boys and girls can be just friends you know. Like us for example.” 

“Bubs we’re an anomaly.” He says but you disregard him entirely. If you give thoughts like that the time of day, you’re done for. 

You hear back from the manager a week later that you got the job. You’re standing in the hallway with Taehyung right after your first class and jump up and down excitedly. You’ve just landed your first job! Giddily you sit beside Jungkook, not even bothering to take out your airpods. You have too much to say. “So..” You begin.

“So?” 

“I got a job!” You tap on his arm excitedly like it’s a bongo. 

“That’s great! Where at?”

“The coffee shop you work at.” His whole body freezes for a second before he engulfs you in a hug. 

“I’m so glad you’re the new coworker. I was worried it was going to be awkward but now I can see you even more often.” He’s all smiles and so are you, too enthralled in each other to notice the professor come in. 

Your first day is on Wednesday seeing as you said you could start right away. You do your hair extra special today seeing as first impressions are important but also because you’re working with Jungkook today and if you’re going to be a bumbling mess you might as well be a cute one. Not that you’re worried about him not finding you cute or anything. 

You have to show up at five seeing as you have the opening shift but after your friendly dates that aren’t dates with Jungkook you’ve grown to somewhat enjoy the morning. At least when you’re in good company. He meets you outside your building and you both walk to the cafe together mindlessly chattering. You’ve found that you and Jungkook can talk about anything and everything, from your biggest fears to why mint chocolate chip ice cream is a valid flavor. When you arrive at the cafe the doors are already opened and the lights are on which has you a little confused. You could’ve sworn only you and Jungkook were assigned the opening shift. Sending your confusion he turns to you and says, “I asked Jimin to come help out this morning so I can focus on getting you familiar with the machines.” You’ve only met Jimin a handful of times so you don’t really have an opinion about him, but you’ll definitely give him credit for coming into work when he doesn’t have to to help you. Well more-so Jungkook but you inadvertently. 

Inside soft singing bounces off the walls in the backroom and you’re honestly a little floored. Jimin has both the looks and the talent? You wonder what that must be like. Following Jungkook into the back you spot Jimin picking up coffee blends and different cups. “Hey Jimin.” Jungkook says. 

“Oh hey guys!” Jimin waves, a smile gracing his features. 

“Morning.” You smile back, his happy attitude infectious. 

“Y/n we’re so glad you’re working here. I could use a pretty face to look at instead of Kookie.” You and Jimin break out into a fit of giggles at his jab and Jungkook just pouts in the corner. 

“I feel attacked.” Jungkook says. 

“Does it make you feel better if I say you’re pretty to me?” You ask. Jimin’s laughter suddenly dies and Jungkook looks at you with wide eyes and mouth forming a small ‘o’. His cheeks match the color of his hair and Jimin comes up next to you to place a hand on your shoulder. 

“I think that answers your question.” He winks, disappearing back to the front of the shop. The rest of your morning is rather uneventful and Jungkook has you man the cash register the whole shift. The machines aren’t that confusing but with how hectic the morning shift is it’s better for you to learn during the slower mid-day shifts. Jimin ends up staying through yours and Jungkook’s shift and when the three of you turn your responsibility over to the next shift workers you all let out a collective sigh. Rolling your shoulders and neck, you try and relieve the tension in your body from the stress of your first day. 

“Good job today.” Jungkook smiles when you’re both standing outside your apartment building. He insisted on walking you for safety purposes even though it’s mid-day. 

“Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

“I know.” Rolling your eyes you push his arm. 

“You had to ruin the moment.” You groan. 

“We had a moment?” 

“I swear, every time I try to be nice to you-“ He cuts you off by pulling you into his hard chest and your breath hitches. He smells sweet and citrusy, his body warm as he wraps his arms around your middle. 

“Shh, you’re ruining the moment.” He whispers and you nearly burst out laughing. You can hear his heart hammering against his chest like he’s nervous. But he shouldn’t be, friends hug all the time. 

When you get your paycheck the next week you’ve never felt so accomplished in your life. You did that. It’s so gratifying to actually earn something and not have everything handed to you. Too bad you’re just going to give the money all to Jungkook, but at least it’s helping him. The real issue is how to give it to him because he’s definitely too prideful to accept it even if you gave it to him as a gift. You could leave it in his mailbox but there’s no guarantee he would actually use the money. He’d probably think it was counterfeit to something. The only real option you have is Jimin, if he could find a way to put the money in Jungkook’s bank account. When you have a shift alone with Jimin, you decide to confide in him about your idea. “So you’re like his sugar mama?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“I mean I could use a sugar mama too. I’d make it real easy to pay me too.” Rolling your eyes you continue cleaning the counter top. 

“Focus, Jimin.” 

“I could give you his account number? You could just directly deposit the money in there.” 

“I feel like that’s illegal. Even if it’s not, he’d definitely notice someone putting money in his account and call the bank.” 

“You can just tell you’ve never been poor. If someone is sending you money for no reason, you just hope they’ll keep sending it.” Jimin says. 

“You sure?” 

“Yup.” He pops the ‘p’ for extra measure. 

Later that night Jimin drops you Jungkook’s account number and you anonymously deposit your paycheck into it. You log out right after, feeling wrong about seeing how much money Jungkook has in his account. It’s much lower than you expect but you guess that has to do with the fact that you have no real perception of what it means to be struggling for money. You do feel a little lighter though, knowing you’re relieving a little of his financial worries. With two incomes he’ll be better off and maybe can even buy himself some new art supplies. You could drop a little more money into his account but you figure it’s better to start out small.

Weeks pass and Jungkook says nothing about anonymous deposits in his bank account. You even ask Jimin about whether Jungkook has said anything but he hasn’t been told anything about it either. Everything between you and Jungkook is as normal as ever as he spends the whole time you’re together at work and school teasing you about your apparent coffee addiction and the fact that the only coffee you really seem to like is his own. He really doesn’t need the ego boost so you never admit this to him, just refute it every time he brings it up. You’re smiling as you enter your apartment after work one day, ready to tell Taehyung about the stupid thing Jungkook did not really paying much mind as you say, “Tae you won’t believe what Jungkook did today.” Laughing at the memory you look up only to spot your parents sitting on your couch. Taehyung stands up from the chair to the side of them and comes to stand beside you for emotional support. 

“Mom, Dad. What are you doing here?” You reach your hand back towards Taehyung who silently intertwines his fingers with your own, giving a comforting squeeze. Your relationship with your parents has been strained for quite a while. 

“I think the real question is what are you not doing here? You should be studying not out with your friend. I don’t pay for this apartment and all your things so you can go out and have fun.” Your father says.

“The semester has only just started. I have nothing to study for.” 

“I don’t appreciate your tone young lady.” You struggle to suppress the need to roll your eyes. 

“Irregardless, that’s not what we came here to talk about. Taehyung would you mind giving us a minute?” Your father is only nice to Taehyung because he has money. If Taehyung was anything less than a millionaire your father would forget all manners and pleasantries.

“I want him to stay. Anything you can tell me, he can hear.” 

“I’m not sure what gave you the impression that you have a say in the matter or that you can talk back to me, but this behavior ends right now. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself being moved back home under my supervision.” More like his scrutiny. 

“It’s fine. I’ll go.” Taehyung says, giving your hand another squeeze before heading into his room. With Taehyung gone, your father begins his tirade.

“It’s no wonder you can’t get a boyfriend with that attitude. What man would want to date someone so outspoken? Did you even bother trying to dress up today? You look like you just rolled out of bed. Do you even realize that whatever you do is a reflection of me, of the company? I constantly get sent photos of you and that Taehyung that I have to pay off because I can’t have my daughter frolicking with an engaged man! Do you have no shame? I mean you even live with him! Surely his fiancé can’t be too keen about it. I think it’s time you find a boyfriend, you need a man in your life. Someone to pick up your mess and make you a respectable woman, someone worthy of my company.” When he’s done he’s heaving, worn out from the yelling. You’re swaying in your spot, eyes a tad watery as you try and calm down. He already sees you as weak, you don’t need to make it worse by crying in front of him. You want to scream at him that a man doesn’t define you, that you had a boyfriend before and they ruined it but you bite your tongue. It’s not worth it; they wouldn’t care anyways. 

“Okay.” You murmur.

“Do you have anyone in mind or do I need to find someone for you?” You can just imagine your dad’s choice: a money hungry beefcake who sees you only as a means to and end. 

“I heard you mention the name Jung-Jung…” Your mom begins and your breath hitches. You hate to drag him into this but you really have no choice. 

“Jungkook.” 

“Yes him. Is there something between you two?” Taehyung barges into the room then like you’re saving grace. 

“Yes! Sorry I don’t mean to interrupt but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation, the walls are only so thin you know? But yes Jungkook and Y/N are together.” Taehyung smiles widely at you, blinking purposely as if to say ‘I’m sorry, please forgive me’. 

“Why didn’t you start with that love?” Your mother smiles standing up to pull you in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you. Hopefully this one is acceptable.” You look at Taehyung over your mother’s shoulder, nervousness taking over your features. Jungkook is not the type your parents are looking for, although he does have a rather nice muscular build. But that’s merely an observation. 

“He sure is! She picked him out with you guys in mind.” Taehyung’s honey tone soothes over the rough edge to his words, passing in your parent’s ears and out just the same. 

“He’s clearly not done that well of a job then. Bring him to the estate next weekend so we can meet the boy. Maybe by then he’ll have fixed your little attitude; if not, I’ll just have show him how. Or maybe just find you someone new.” 

“No need for that. I’m sure you’ll love him just fine.”

When your parents leave, coincidentally right after they berate you like that was their only reason for coming by, you’re left in a shaking mess. Taehyung brings you into a hug and sits with you in his arms on the couch, stroking your hair while softly humming to calm you down. You silently cry, your tears wetting his t-shirt but he says nothing about it. He’s always been good at being the silent supporter. For once you kind of wish he was someone else, but you can’t put your finger on who. Or maybe you just don’t want to acknowledge it. “What am I going to do?” You whisper, after your heart finally settles and your eyes are dry. 

“You’re going to have to ask him to go to your parents. I would but they already know who I am.” 

“I don’t want to drag him into this though.” Your voice is muffled as you press your face further into Taehyung’s chest like you’re trying to hide from your reality. 

“You have no choice. Unless you have another guy in mind willing to pretend to be him.” 

“They would love Seokjin. Maybe I should just ask him?” 

“Bubs, he would want to go as himself not as Jungkook. Besides, I don’t think you want to have to spend a weekend with him. That would make you even more miserable.” Taehyung says.

“Jimin?” 

“Y/n.” 

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right. But do you think he’d do it? I mean he’d have to pretend to be someone else entirely. You know they don’t like the artist type. Especially not the non-millionaire kind. We’d have to make him into your basic business major. I feel like it’s unfair to ask someone to change their entire persona.” 

“It is but for you I think he’d do anything.” 

“You say that like he’s in love with me or something.” You scoff. 

“Something like that.” 

Turns out Taehyung is right about Jungkook being willing to pretend to be someone else for a weekend because as soon as you ask he agrees. Even after you give him an extensive list of reasons why he should say no, including the fact that his beloved cherry red hair will have to go. Not willing to lose the chance, you run your hand through his bright locks as he sits in the salon chair on Monday evening. His eyes shutter closed as you pull lightly at the surprisingly soft strands and he leans his head back towards you for easier access. “I was thinking black.” You say as your hand still cards through his hair. “A classic color you know?” The hairstylist nods and goes to the back to mix the dye. “I’m gonna miss your cherry hair.” You pout. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook asks, popping one eye open to look at you in the mirror. 

“Yeah. It really suits you.” 

“Maybe I’ll dye it back then after this weekend. So that way you don’t miss it for too long.” Looking up from your fingers tangled in his locks you make eye contact through the mirror. 

“Really?” You ask smiling.

“Really.” 

You and Jungkook spend the next two hours sitting in adjacent chairs, battling each other in cup pong and other little phone games. He pouts dramatically when you beat him 5 times in a row at cup pong and you cheer dramatically. As someone who calls himself the king of video games, he’s not very good. The hair stylist laughs at you two before turning Jungkook’s dried and styled new hair around so he can see it in the mirror. You end up missing your shot on the game, too distracted by Jungkook’s beauty. If the cherry was beautiful, the black is otherworldly framing his face and giving him a timeless look. It contrasts nicely with his eyes which gleam like they’re made up of stars as he looks at his reflection in the mirror. His hand reaches up to touch a tuft of black and he scrunches his nose before the bunny grin is on full display. “Don’t I look like James Bond or something? I feel like I could be a spy.” You bite back a giggle. 

“Yes Kook, you look like James Bond. All we need is to find you a bond girl and you can go off on your international adventures. Be sure to send me post cards amidst your travels.” 

“Bold of you to assume you’re not a bond girl.” You try not to mull over his words. 

“Bold of you to assume I am.” 

���You’re a dork.” He laughs. 

“Takes one to know one.” You sing. 

The night before your trip to your parents you invite Jungkook over to your apartment to go over how to talk like a business major, well more like Kim Seokjin. Jungkook is more soft-spoken and reserved but to really sell his business persona he needs to be brazen and loud. The first trial is with the pizza delivery guy, mainly because you don’t want to answer the door but Jungkook doesn’t need to know that. “Rule number one is to never admit defeat. Be like a bulldog, relentless.” You say as he walks towards the door. The poor boy on the other side must be only sixteen and you feel a little bad as his voice wavers under Jungkook’s intimidating persona. He’s really got the domineering attitude down. 

“One pepperoni pizza and one cheese.” The delivery boy says and you cringe a little. Of course this one time they screwed up on your order. Normally you’d let it go but the whole point is for Jungkook to learn how to be your father. 

“That’s not what we ordered.” He says gruffly and for a moment you almost let out a small laugh. You’re not sure why he decided to lower his voice but it has the opposite effect. Maybe it’s just because you know what he really sounds like. 

“O-oh?” The delivery boy says. 

“Yes. This heathen,” He says pointing towards you. “wanted pepperoni and spinach.” He says the latter word like it’s insulting him to even have to say that and you glare at his broad back. 

“Maybe it’s a good thing the order got screwed up then.” The boy laughs. You feel attacked. 

“I’m not paying for a pizza I didn’t order.” Jungkook says, crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side for a more intimidating stance. He’s really laying it on thick. 

“Uh-I- okay? Then just the one I guess?” Your heart hurts a little and judging by how Jungkook looks away for a moment his hurts too. This must be the poor guy’s first day. Handing him only half the money, the boy basically tosses both boxes into Jungkook’s arms before dashing away. 

“I feel awful.” Jungkook says, placing the boxes gently onto the kitchen table. 

“Me too. Here, give me the money.” Before he can say anything more you run after the pizza boy and catch him just as the elevator doors begin to close, risking your arm just so he can get his full payment. “Here’s the money for the other pizza. Don’t worry, accidents happen.” You smile as the boy cautiously takes the money. “Have a good night!” 

Back inside the apartment you and Jungkook sit on the couch as the tv plays some drama. “Did I do well?’ He asks, after inhaling a slice.

“Yeah, almost a little two well to be honest. Rule number two is to always look for loopholes in people’s wording. Things you can get around.” 

“Are all business people like this? They sound so shady.” 

“My father is. I’m merely going off what type of people he likes.” You shrug. 

“They don’t sound like good people.” He’s not wrong. Your father’s business partners have always put you off a little. There’s just something about them that doesn’t seem right. 

“The last and final rule is to never lose face. Show no weakness.” You say. Jungkook says nothing as he continues to eat, both of you falling into a comfortable silence. There’s really not much to say. Taehyung bursts out of his room frantically calling, “Hey bubs did you take my favorite shirt? I-“ Taehyung emerges from his room shirtless, but stops when he sees you with Jungkook. 

“Why do you always assume I steal your stuff?” You grumble, unfazed by the sight of Taehyung shirtless. Walking back into your room you return moments later with the shirt in hand.

“You get mad at me for accusing you of having it, but you have it anyways? That’s not very fair bubs.” He teases ruffling your hair. Swatting his hands away you huff in annoyance and try smoothing down the mess he made. He slips the shirt on before going back to his room to continue getting ready for his date, something about also wanting to find romance. You’re not really sure what he means. 

“Why Bubs?” Jungkook asks when you settle back beside him. Before you can answer Taehyung pops his head back into the living room. 

“She used to be obsessed with bubbles. I remember we went to Disneyland once and she got this bubble maker and she had to keep rebuying the soap packs because she wouldn’t stop pressing the button to make them.” Pink coats your cheeks and you hide your face in your hands. 

“Taehyung you said we wouldn’t talk about that!” 

“Awe was that when you were little?” Jungkook asks and you peak at him through the slits of your fingers. 

“Summer of freshman year actually.” Taehyung snickers.

“See now I’m glad I kept hitting you in the face with them.” 

“I had the taste of soap in my mouth for days Y/n!” Jungkook’s laughter breaks the argument and you both turn to see him leaning against the coffee table clutching his stomach. 

“I-I’m sorry.” He says dramatically wiping a tear away. “I just-freshman year?” His fit of giggles starts back up and Taehyung joins, laughing at your embarrassment. 

Pouting you mumble, “I had never gotten to use them before. I didn’t really have much of a childhood.” 

“Ah yes, the woes of your typical rich kid. Hopelessly following nannies around for a sense of a family.” Taehyung chimes, walking towards the door to grab his coat from the rack. 

“Well this just got real depressing. Thanks Tae.” You say sarcastically. 

“Anytime.” He winks. “Now if you don’t mind I’m off to go on my date. Have fun, be safe, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He blows you a kiss before leaving out the front door of the apartment and for the first time in a long while you feel awkward around Jungkook. 

“Best friends huh?” You chuckle. 

“Tell me about it. Jimin is always saying stuff like-“ And just like that things fall right back to normal. 

The next morning you and Jungkook are packed and the luggage is loaded in your car. Well really you did the packing for the both of you, borrowing Taehyung’s clothes for Jungkook to wear because they’re roughly the same size. Plus as much as you like Jungkook, you don’t want to spend a mini fortune on posh clothes when you practically have a mini Gucci store in the room next to yours. The drive to your parent’s house is nice, both of you singing along to the same playlist you played the first time you and Jungkook shared headphones. If someone would’ve told you then you’d be taking the boy sitting next to you home to your parents, pretending that he’s your boyfriend, you wouldn’t have believed them. That sounds like something out of a drama, not real life. Although your life always has been sort of a drama. 

Pulling up to the gold gates that practically scream ‘we have way too much money then we know what to do with’ Jungkook’s jaw drops. “I- I knew you were rich but not this rich.” He stutters. Sometimes you forget that your house is beautiful; all you can see are the bad memories. Punching in the code for the gate, you wait for them to open and impulsively check your rearview mirror, feeling like someone is watching you. A car on the opposite end of the street idles and it strikes you as odd. Even though it should look the part, being one of those fancy self-driving ones, it still seems out of place. “Y/n?” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts and nods towards the now open gates. You completely forget about the strange car. “So we never talked about PDA.” Jungkook says as you’re parking the car. 

“Oh right. I forgot about that. So umm we should probably hold hands.” You say, your blush rivaling that of Jungkook’s old red hair. 

“We could uhh.. kiss a few times in front of them, you know if we really need to.. sell it.” Jungkook’s cheeks are also very pink and he now refuses to look at you. 

“O-okay.” Turning off the engine, the car suddenly feels claustrophobic and you hastily climb out of it. Members of your staff immediately rush out to grab your luggage once you’re both out of the car and Jungkook panics for a moment, grabbing onto the bags’ handles and pulling them behind him. “It’s okay Kook.” You say coming up beside him. “They’re just taking them to our rooms.” 

“I thought this was a house not a hotel?” Jungkook asks innocently. 

“You’ll realize real soon this doesn’t feel like a home.” Sticking out your hand Jungkook intertwines your fingers as you lead him inside. It’s only awkward for a moment but holding hands with him feels almost natural. His hand is a comforting weight in your own, his warmth seeping through and easing the goosebumps you get when walking through the house. You haven’t been here in two years; truthfully, you thought you would never come back. The house is lined with art and Jungkook’s eyes never leaves the walls as he gazes at all the artwork lining your home. You would think your parents really admire art but truthfully this is all a ploy to make them look more cultured and refined. Well that and to also flaunt how much money they really have. Unlike most homes, there’s no pictures of you and your parents lining the walls, although you do have a few portraits of other families. 

Your parents are waiting for you in the great room, sat perched in two giant chairs that somewhat resembles thrones. Coincidence? You think not. When you open the doors their faces are entirely stoic as you call out to them, “Mom, dad.” A fake smile plastered on your face. Your grip on Jungkook’s hand tightens like it’s tethering you to your sanity as you walk farther into the lion’s den. This is all to reminiscent. You don’t know whether you want to cry or scream. 

“Sir, Madam.” Jungkook says and you try not to look startled. Glancing over at him he’s  got a confident smile on his face and standing tall and straight. His eyes have a glint in them and he looks like he could give Kim Seokjin a run for his money. You’re almost worried you’ve lost him entirely to this facade, until a rough thumb moves across your knuckles. Glancing down at your intertwined hands you notice just how hard your grip is and loosen it a bit to be more relaxed. Jungkook however continues his movement. “My name is Jeon Jungkook and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He smiles but it’s not quite the same. His face doesn’t crinkle and it makes you a little sad. Sticking his hand out he shakes your father’s hand first before moving to shake your mothers. She ditches the shake for a hug and you’re thrown off. This was not the same reaction you got the first time you brought a boy home. The only time. Maybe it’s because he wasn’t decked out in an Italian suit. 

“So tell me, how did you two meet?” Your mother asks once you and Jungkook are seated on the couch across from them. You lean closer to Jungkook who’s hand is still in yours for comfort as this feels more like an interrogation than innocent questioning. 

“We share a class together and sat beside one another on the first day.” Jungkook answers for you and your father nods. You sit silently beside Jungkook knowing your father will like a man that does all the talking for you. 

“How sweet.” Your mother coos. This is sickening. Everything about this is just sickening. It’s like you’re reliving when you first brought him home but the only thing that’s changed is their answers. They’re okay with Jungkook but why couldn’t they be okay with Yoongi? 

“I just like that you’re a business major. She needs a man with a real job not one of those useless art ones. Wasn’t that what your last boyfriend studied?” You clench your jaw to keep from saying anything you shouldn’t. He knows exactly what Yoongi studied. Instead you nod. Jungkook’s grip on your hand tightens and it takes you a minute to realize your father offended him too, seeing as he is an art major. 

“Dear we shouldn’t mention her ex in front of her new boyfriend.” Your mother says and your father glares at her. 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” He growls. “Now tell me son what really made you want to join the business field?” Son. You almost laugh. 

“I’m a man of many passions and business is my main one. Well, besides family of course.” 

“Let me give you some advice seeing as I like you. Business should always be your first priority. If you want to be successful like me and be able to afford my daughter, you’ll have to make sure everything knows it’s place. Both in your work and personal life.” You’re not even surprised that this comes out of your father’s mouth. This just completely embodies him. 

Jungkook is quiet for a moment before saying, “That’s some great advice. You’ll have to take note Y/n.” Your father and mother chuckle. You and Jungkook make eye contact for a brief moment and you both look equally as pained. 

The day continues on with your father giving Jungkook advice which you can only hope he doesn’t taker seriously. You’re starting to worry he’s actually becoming your father he’s playing the role so well. He’s brazen, confident, stubborn. The perfect man in the eyes of your father. They play pool for half the afternoon, making bets to prove their manliness, well at least your father is. Jungkook seems to be very secure in his masculinity. Meanwhile you and your mother are sat on stools sipping wine and watching the boys. You’re tempted to have Taehyung call you just so you have an excuse to do something but you don’t want to leave Jungkook alone here. “I’m sorry.” Your mother whispers and you spin to face her confused. “No no face the front. He’ll notice.” It takes you a minute to register she means your father. 

“I know mentions of your ex hurt you. So I’m sorry that he kept bringing it up. These past two years you’ve been gone and I’ve been stuck here alone have been really awful. I just… missed you and wanted you to have good memories while you’re staying here.” 

You’re a little taken off guard. Your mother has never apologized to anyone in your life. “It’s okay mom.” You say. 

“Please move back home.” She croaks out and only then do you realize she was playing you. She wanted you to feel vulnerable so she could manipulate you. “I can’t stand being here alone with him. He won’t let me leave the house anymore and I’m all alone.” 

“So you want me to leave my apartment with Tae just so I can come here and be put on lockdown?” 

“Yes.” You actually can’t believe you believed this woman for a second. That she could actually be motherly when your entire life she’s practically been a stranger. 

“Sorry mom, I can’t.” More like you won’t but that answer would get you in trouble. You’re putting your own happiness in front of theirs for once. They can finally get a taste of their own medicine as vindictive as that sounds. But you’re finally really happy after a long while of being miserable and you’re not about to give that up/ 

“Fine. I didn’t want you here anyways.” She huffs like a chid, crossing her arms over her chest. That just confirms your decision. 

Dinner rolls around the corner and the four of you are seated at a table made for ten. Your father sits at the head, no surprise, and you and your mother flank him with Jungkook beside you. The staff returns and sets your plates down, your favorite meal set before you. Eyeing the meal suspiciously you give your father the side eye. The only time they’ve ever bothered to have your favorite meal prepared is your birthday, which is not remotely close to today. “Why are we eating this for dinner?” You ask and Jungkook pauses mid-bite, eyes round and cheeks full. 

“What can we not eat this meal now?” You father remarks, fire ablaze in his eyes. Oops. 

“We only eat this on my birthday and that’s not today.” 

“We’re celebrating.” Your father smiles maliciously. You gulp nervously and Jungkook reaches over to grab your limp hand resting in your lap. “Today is the day that Yoongi boy signed the contact.” Your eyes begin to water and you blink the tears away but they keep coming. Your father begins recounting the story of your first heartbreak but the words don’t even meet your ears as you’re too busy reliving the event. 

(flashback to two years ago today) 

Your father is sat at the head of the table with you and your mother flanking his sides. Yoongi, your current boyfriend and most likely love of your life, sits beside you with a hand on your thigh, stroking his thumb along it in an effort to soothe you as you bounce it nervously. Your father has been vehemently against your relationship since the moment they found out about Yoongi. For one he is studying the arts, something you found really intriguing but your father finds utterly useless. Secondly, he is middle-class at best, living mainly off your student dining card because you don’t care that you are racking up quite the bill as long as he is fed and healthy. 

But for as against your relationship as your dad is, your father is smiling brightly at the table, cheery even. He’s in a good mood which is very peculiar. Your favorite meal is served and you think this was strange seeing as it isn’t your birthday or anything. Your mother keeps the chatter going at the table, both of your parents cracking jokes and being pleasant, making you think maybe everything is okay. Maybe they finally see that money doesn’t make a person and that it should be more about how they make you feel. You begin relaxing, your leg finally stilling, hope building in your chest that this will work out. That you can live with Yoongi in peace and your parents will respect your relationship. Instead though, halfway through dinner the staff brings in a manilla envelope and Yoongi’s hand tightens momentarily on your thigh. You both immediately sense the change in atmosphere as your parents both put down their silverware and carefully empty the contents of the manila envelope. Stretching forward you take note of some sort of contract but the print is so small and fine that you can’t read much. “So, Yoongi is it?” Your father asks. Yoongi’s eyes turn into slits as he regards your father and nods. “Well Yoongi, judging from my daughter’s dining bill and your full stomach despite your very low account balance, I can guess you’re in dire need of money which my daughter is so willingly supplying.” 

“It’s not like that. I don’t date her because she’s rich, I date her because I love her.” Yoongi rasps. 

“Love,” Your father says. “such a fickle thing love is. It can be so easily bought.” The hope that was building earlier has crumbled. “Especially when you have as much money as myself. Say Yoongi, how much money do you need?” 

“I don’t want your money.” Yoongi growls. 

You both move to stand up and leave the table when your father shouts, “I’ll give you two million dollars! Two million dollars and a producing job at the biggest record label in the country. I’ve already got it lined up, all you have to do is sign this little contract.” You scoff and b begin walking away when you realize Yoongi isn’t behind you. Turning around he’s still facing the table staring down at the contract that your father is now pushing across the table towards him. 

“What’s the catch?” Yoongi asks, fingers tracing over the pen that lies on top of the contract. You take a step forward to stop him but freeze at your father’s next words. 

“You break all contact with my daughter. Your relationship is terminated at the very moment you sign. I want it to be like you never even existed.” 

“Yoongi?” Your voice breaks, tears clouding your vision as his fingers start to wrap around the pen. “Baby please don’t do this. I-I can get you the job and the money just please, please don’t leave me.” Sobs tumbled out of you harshly and you begin to hiccup form the violent onslaught of emotions. “Please Yoongi I can’t do this without you. You can’t- you can’t do this to me.” Running forward you grip onto his bicep turning him to face you head on, hoping that if your words can’t convince him then maybe the love and impending heartbreak swirling in your eyes will. 

Tears fill his own and as you hold eye contact a stream of tears fall down his full cheeks. You reach up a hand to wipe them away but he turns his head to the other side. “I’m sorry angel. I am. I don’t want to hurt you but this is my dream. If I don’t take this opportunity now I might regret it for the rest of my life.” His voice is even raspier than normal and as he clicks the pen to begin writing you put the final nail in the coffin. 

“But you’re my dream.” You cry, and he sucks in a shaky breath. 

“I’m sorry angel.” He says one last time before pressing the pen to the paper. You leave the room quickly, the sound of a pen scratching on paper and the overjoyed looks on your parents faces haunting you every step of the way. 

When your father is finished with the retelling of arguably the worst day of your life, a proud smile takes over both his and your mother’s face. You want to throw up. Silent tears stream down your cheeks from the memory and you say nothing as you push up from your chair, letting go of Jungkook’s hand. You’re unresponsive even as your parents question you and what you’re doing. Walking to your old room, you slam your door shut hoping to alleviate some of the tension but it does nothing. Laying facedown on your bed you scream into the pillow but nothing. It’s like you’re feeling everything and nothing at the same time and you don’t know what to do with yourself. So you decide to call the only person who knows how to make you feel better: Taehyung. 

He picks up on the second ring cheery after just getting free pizza from the student union. Something about there being a fundraiser. You can hear him talking but fail to register his words, too lost in yourself to even notice. “Taehyung.” You cut him off. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks worriedly. You never call him by his first name unless you’re pissed at him or upset. 

‘They-they celebrated the day- the day Yoongi signed the contract.” You croak, sobs wracking your body once again. 

“What? They memorized the date? They’re sick!” Taehyung spits, disgust evident in his tone. “Do you want me to come get you?” He asks, voice much softer. 

“I can’t leave Jungkook here.” 

“I’ll pick you both up, no worries.” 

“It’s okay. We’ll just drive back tomorrow morning.” You’re not sure why you’re so calm and rational when you were crying two minutes ago but you guess it’s because you’ve already dealt with the heartbreak a while ago. 

“How about you talk to me on the phone a while okay? Until you fall asleep.” 

“Okay.” You mumble placing the phone on your pillow. You wake up hours later to a soft knock on your door and when you open it Jungkook is on the other side. 

“Are you okay?” He immediately asks pulling you into him. “I was so worried about you, you know that? You just ran out and I could tell you were upset but your parents wouldn’t let me leave to come check up on you, and I should’ve just told them to fu-“ 

“I’m fine.” You grumble, half-asleep against Jungkook. It’s heartwarming that he cares. Giving his waist a squeeze you yawn against his chest. “Thanks for checking up on me though.’ Walking back to your bed you crawl under the comforter and turn to face Jungkook who’s standing in the doorframe awkwardly. “Kook could you sleep in here? I don’t feel like being alone tonight.” Taehyung had ended the call a while ago and you’re glad he had because you wouldn’t want him to hear this. He’d tease you for the rest of your life. 

“O-okay.” Stepping inside, he shuts the door quietly before moving towards your bed. “Here give me a pillow and one of the blankets and I’ll be just fine on the floor.” 

“You can sleep on the bed if you want. If you’re comfortable.” You mumble, pushing your face into your pillow to hide your embarrassment but to also not see his reaction. It’s all too silent and you get ready to backtrack, but the bed dipping stops you. Jungkook clambers into the bed and lies down beside you, the room suddenly so much cozier as his body heat mixes with yours. Your eyes instantly fall closed and your breathing slows, your body relaxing. “Thanks Kook.” You murmur before sleep finally takes its hold. 

You wake up in a heap of tangled limbs that your half-asleep self didn’t really account for when there was originally some space between you two last night. You’re laying on your side and his arms wrap around you from behind, a thigh pressed between yours and his nose tucked into the crook of your neck. Soft snores escape his mouth in short increments, his breathing slow and calm against your back. You just enjoy the moment and relax, eyes beginning to flutter closed when there’s a knock on your door. Jungkook starlet behind you and digs his face into your shoulder groaning. Your body goes stiff at the motion, the fact that Jungkook is conscious making it seem much more intimate. Scrambling, you land on the floor with a loud thud making Jungkook jump up and whoever is behind the door to burst in. When the maid comes in and notices you and Jungkook she blushes and apologizes profusely for her intrusion, but not before she sends you a sly wink. You shake your head and try not to think about her implication. “Your parents are requesting you in the dining hall.” She says before closing the door and awkwardness begins to cloud the room. 

“I guess we better get going. We’ve got to say goodbye and all. Pretend that we actually had a good time.” You chuckle, moving to reopen your bedroom door. Jungkook follows closely behind you, his hand slipping into your own. You almost take your hand out of his own, still reeling from the bedroom incident, but calm yourself down by repeating that this is fake. He’s only doing it because that’s what he’s supposed to do. He’s putting on a show. 

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks, sensing that you’re a bit jittery. 

“Yeah, just peachy.” You smile but he stops you in the middle of the hallway. 

“Talk to me. Is it about what your parents said last night? Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?” Jungkook takes his your other hand in his own and rubs his thumb over your knuckles, and it’s too much. It feels too real, it makes you feel like you could have a fighting chance. That you could get your happy ending. So you pull away to save yourself both from the pain and from the disappointment. 

Carefully taking your hands out of his own your gaze ices over, face becoming unreadable. “I’m fine, just want to go home is all. We can quit the act now. Doesn’t matter much as we’re leaving right now. I’m not in the mood to stay for breakfast.” You head off towards the dining room not looking behind you to see if he’s following. 

Your parents take the news of your early departure surprisingly well, almost like they were expecting you to take off right away. You promise yourself that this really is the last time you’ll step foot in this house, bad things just seem to happen here. When you’re changed into fresh clothes and your bags are packed and loaded, they stand outside to see you off. Your heart picks up a little bit as anxiety sets in because this is wrong, something feels off. They’ve never taken the time to see you off, half the time not even taking the time to see you. When the engine roars to life and you’re about to put the car into reverse your father taps on the window. Rolling it down, he leans in to say, “ Feel free to come by anytime Jungkook. I’d love to get to talk to you more, maybe about a future position at the company.” You change the gears and start slowly reversing, desperate to get Jungkook out of here before this goes any farther. Your father jumps back but continues walking next to the car, hunched over to continue talking. “How about you and your parents give me a call and we can try and work out something? Maybe even a deal if it comes up?” Slamming on the breaks you send Jungkook shooting forward, his seatbelt thankfully catching him. 

“A deal?” You ask incredulously. “You’re fucking kidding me right?” You ask eyes welling with tears. It’s like Yoongi all over again. Any time you get close to someone they try and exploit them. “What you want him to break up with me too or would you rather me keep this one for the money? You people are sick, I can’t believe I have to call you my parents.” You spit. If you thought you were done with them before, you’ve never been so sure of it now. “You know what? Keep all your money, I don’t give a shit. Cut me out of the will if you want. I don’t want to be a part of this- this- whatever we are because a family sure isn’t it.” Your chest is heaving from your yelling and also the emotional toll taking over. There’s no going back now. Switching back into reverse, you peel out of your driveway barely giving time for the gates to open enough for your car to slip through. The car from before still sits across the street. 

Jungkook ends up driving home because you’re too emotionally distraught to focus on anything. You’ve just isolated yourself from your family and your funds, meaning you’re basically broke, something you’ve never been in your whole life. You just ripped your own safety blanket right out from under you and while it feels nice to no longer be under your parent’s control you’re entirely rattled. You have no idea how to live or support yourself. Taehyung meets you in the parking lot of your complex a sad, knowing smile on his face when you pull up. Jungkook must have told him what happened before he took over the wheel. “Hey bubs.” Taehyung says softly, pulling you into a hug as soon as you stand out of the car. You limply wrap your arms around his waist, too exhausted to do anything more. Taehyung kisses the top of your head before laying his cheek against it, rubbing up and down your back. “Let’s go inside yeah? I ordered chinese and ice cream.” Your nose scrunches. 

“Those don’t sound very good together.” You mumble into him and he chuckles. 

“They taste good though. Separately.” Moving to wrap his arm around your waist, Taehyung guides you all the way back to the apartment, Jungkook following behind while carrying your bags. You feel a little guilty letting him carry everything for you but make no move to help him. You really don’t think you could do anything other than focus on putting one foot in front of the other, which is already hard enough with your current mental state. 

Taehyung opens the front door and the dogs climb in your lap, licking your face and cheeks like they’re trying to cheer you up. Jungkook sets the luggage down by the door and stands there unsure about whether or not you want him to stay. Normally you would, Jungkook usually brightens your mood, but you’re feeling too vulnerable today and your vulnerability will get the best of you. So instead you say, “Thanks for driving and carrying the bags kook. I’ll see you at class tomorrow okay?” He deflates a little and you wonder if you made a mistake. 

“Okay. Call me if you need anything.” As soon as the door shuts you start crying again. 

The next morning during your shared class Jungkook arrives later then you and throws down two bags of chips as well as a large stack of newspaper clippings onto the desk. You look at him with a raised eyebrow. “I can’t let you starve, so I’m introducing you to the world of couponing. This will allow you to buy a lot of food without having to blow your whole budget. Speaking of which, you have a budget right?” You shake your head. The only thing money related was Taehyung offering to cover all your living expenses until you get on your feet which you politely declined. He was insistent on paying the rent though, so at least that’s one less thing to worry about. 

“Oh right. You and Taehyung are like dumb and dumber when it comes to this.” Jungkook chuckles at his own lame joke and you glare at him. “We can just use the same one as Jimin and I do. We all have the same income anyways.” Throughout class Jungkook shows you how to plan out how much you’ll spend each month and on what, along with several rebate apps that give you cash back. You feel like a fool for wasting so much money that you could’ve used today by completing disregarding discounts or sales. You used to even feel embarrassed for picking something up off clearance. 

When class is over you and Jungkook both head to the local grocery store to pick up food. Pink colors your cheeks as you hand the woman your rather large stack of coupons but she says nothing of it. Apparently a lot more people coupon than you thought. Carrying the groceries home though is a chore since they’re so heavy and you wish you would’ve just stolen temporarily borrowed a shopping cart so you wouldn’t have to carry them. The dogs yip happily at your heels when you and Jungkook enter the apartment, probably thinking that the food was for them. You can’t help but feel a little bad for them because there’s nothing for them, no coupon equals no buy, so when everything is packed away you give them a few bites of cheese. Flopping down onto the couch Jungkook joins you, throwing his head into your lap. He’s seemed to grow more physically affectionate after the trip to your parents. 

Unsure what to do you keep both of your hands close to your chest to avoid touching Jungkook. The thought of running your hands through his hair is much too tempting so you really have to keep yourself restrained. You don’t really know what’s wrong with you, why you’re having such a problem with this. Well you have a semblance of an idea but you’d rather not think about the repercussions of that. You shift a little uncomfortably because of your thoughts and Jungkook turns his head to look at you. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, just uhh… your head is heavy.” You lie, too afraid to hurt his feelings. It’s like you want him close but far at the same time. You feel like you’re running from something, you’re just not sure what.

“Feelings,” Taehyung says when you bring it up to him a week later after your weekly 6 a.m. sunday breakfasts with Jungkook. You had mentioned how Jungkook went to hold your hand but you pulled away at the last second, pretending to reach for more syrup as an excuse. You also ask him why Jungkook is suddenly more affectionate with you. He’ll give you hugs when you arrive at class and work now, his hand brushing against yours as he walks you home. “You’re running from your feelings because you’re scared to be hurt again. After your breakup with Yoongi you convinced yourself love wasn’t real and now that you’re feeling it, and it’s being reciprocated, you’re freezing up. You like the feelings but you’re scared of the hurt they could bring. You’re scared of being vulnerable again.” 

“But I’m not scared with you/“ You say, anything to save face. To pretend he’s not entirely right and that you’re just causing you and Jungkook pain all because you’re too afraid to put yourself out there again. 

“I’m not going anywhere, there’s no danger with me. We’re still friends even as ghosts remember? But with Jungkook you’re unsure because neither of you know where the other is at but have an inkling that your feelings are mutual. Which is why he’s getting touchy because by taking him with you to see your parents that was his in. That was the first time you’ve ever been vulnerable around anyone other than me right?” You nod. “That was your make or break moment and you didn’t even know it. So when you asked him to stay, that was you solidifying your feelings which he’s trying to encourage you to act on.” Taehyung says this all so matter-of-factly that you wonder whether it’s really been this obvious. If you’d been so in denial that you were blinded. 

“What if- what if I’m always scared? He shouldn’t be with someone scared to love him.” 

“Bubs, you’re not scared to love him. You’re scared of love itself. But so is everyone. Love isn’t easy, sometimes it’s hard. But you shouldn’t let that deter you from chasing after it.” 

“Okay,” You’re still wary but you think you’ll always be given your past. But you trust Taehyung and if he says, you’ll be fine you believe him. “I guess it’s time I accept my feelings and tell him.” 

You decide to wait until the weekend to confess your feelings to see if that’s really what you want. If you’re truly committed to the idea of trying to make this work. Because you accept that you love Jungkook and his stupid dorky humor, starry eyes, and crinkly smile but you haven’t accepted that you’ll have to open yourself up again. On Monday when you walk into your shared class again, your heart speeds up for a moment when Jungkook grins and waves frantically at you as you shyly wave back. You notice though that when you get settled behind him your heart slows down dramatically, instantly relaxed with him being in close proximity. This whole time you had thought it was because he was one of your closest friends but this whole time it was really because you love him. All those days where you sacrificed countless hours at the cafe just so you could give all your earnings to Jungkook so he could live easier were small declarations of your love. To have it all in the open now, well at least with yourself, is relaxing and for the first time you initiate intimate contact with Jungkook. You expected it to be nerve-racking and awkward as you lean your head on his shoulder but instead it just feels natural. Just like how it was when you two held hands for the first time. Jungkook stiffens for a short moment before he relaxes and you can feel his cheek brush the top of your head as he turns to glance down at you, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a soft smile. Looking up at him through your lashes his eyes are soft, their glimmer a soft glow rather than their usual blinding light, as he whispers softly, “tired?” You just nod because if you open your mouth you just know those three little words will tumble right out. And when you say you love him for the first time, you want it to be in something other than the back of a classroom. 

The next time you get the urge to tell him is when you’re at work and he’s got his white button up sleeves rolled above his elbow, arms practically on full display. Normally you wouldn’t give yourself the time to look at them, busying yourself with menial tasks to keep any wandering and dangerous thoughts at bay but you don’t care anymore. Your mind is too hazy with the image of his taut arms that you don’t notice that rather than the cup, your hand is under spot where the steamed milk comes out and you hiss in pain when the boiling liquid comes in contact with your skin. The sound attracts Jungkook who immediately leaves the till to come to your aid, gently holding onto your wrist to inspect the injured appendage. Tsk’ing quietly he hurries you to the back where he runs the faucet on cold before gently putting your hand under it. His hand is still cupping your wrist gently and his mouth is moving as he probably tells you to be more careful but you can’t make sense of his words. Not when his presumably soft and pink lips keep forming into a pout like they’re waiting for you to give him a peck. You need to tear your eyes away before you do something stupid, but you don’t want to. Unconsciously you begin to move closer and it’s not until he stops mid-sentence that you realize you’re much too close and you don’t want to confess in the back of your work so instead you turn your head and pretend it never happened. 

Sunday rolls around and you wake up before Jungkook’s traditional 6 a.m. wake up call to put in a little more effort today. Today is the day, no more waiting, no more torture of not saying anything even though it’s practically bursting out of you. This is your time and place to tell the Jungkook you love him, at your very own spot. Throwing on a comfy dress, one to hide the food baby caused by one too many pancakes, and fixing up your hair a little you anxiously wait for Jungkook to arrive at your apartment. You swear he takes a little longer than normal to get there but maybe it’s just because you’re so nervous. You’ve only confessed once before and that relationship didn’t end very well but you’re trying to not let it effect you. Just because it happened once before doesn’t mean it needs to happen again. 

When Jungkook does arrive he’s in his typical white t-shirt and baggy sweats but you swear he’s never looked so good in his life. During your double take do you only then notice his bright cherry red hair has made a reappearance. “Gone back to red huh?” 

“Told you I would didn’t I?” He smiles bending down so you get a full view of the top of his head. “Wanna double check it’s the same quality as last time?” 

“If you want me to play with your hair why not just say so?” You laugh softly, carding your fingers through the strands. It’s just as soft as it was last time. “Come on, we can do that later. I’m hungry.” You say grabbing onto his hand and dragging him down the hall. This time you don’t let go the whole way to the diner. 

You both sit in the same booth as always and the same bored waitress as always is working. She doesn’t even say anything as you come in, just begins punching in your order since you both always get the same thing. The only thing that has seemed to change is the tv mounted on one of the corners of the room above the counter top seating area. A news station plays in the background but the volume is practically inaudible. 

“So what’s been up with you?” Jungkook asks leaning on his elbows that are resting on top of the table. “You’ve been really affectionate all week, not that I mind, but it’s kind of out of character for you. Did something happen? Are you okay?” Your heart warms that he cares enough to ask. It grows twice as large at the fact that he noticed the change in your demeanor. It just validates everything Taehyung told you and gives you the confidence you need to really take the leap of faith. You’re ready to put your faith in Jungkook because you know he’ll be there to catch you. 

“Well actually-“ 

“Wait isn’t that your dad?” Jungkook interrupts. Whipping around you turn back to the tv tucked away in the corner. Sure enough there’s you dad with his hands handcuffed behind his back as two cops lead him to their patrol car. Your mother is shown seconds after your father is placed inside the car, also in a set of handcuffs as she’s placed in a separate vehicle. “Hey can you turn the volume up please?” Jungkook asks the waitress who begrudgingly obliges. 

-just in, the CEO of Medle Distributions has been arrested on several counts of tax evasion and embezzlement. According to law enforcement, he’s been doing this for quite some time and has also scammed smaller companies by selling them fake shares into his company. His wife has been arrested for assisting her spouse in his crimes.” The news reporter says and his words circled around your head for a while. Your parents have been arrested. They’re probably guilty of the crimes. Somehow they managed to mess up with your love life again by screwing up the day you were supposed to confess. But it’s in this moment while you’re processing what’s happening that you realize that life will always have its hiccups. It will never be perfect, there will always be some aspect that’s not great. If life was a garden there would always be a weed somewhere. But you shouldn’t expect it to be perfect either. If your life was perfect you would have never been here with Jungkook, you probably wouldn’t have even met him. And if a perfect life meant no Jungkook, well then you didn’t want it. 

“Y/n I’m-“ 

“I love you.” You say, not wanting to withhold it any longer. Your whole body sags after you finally let it out, relieved of the weight on your shoulders. Jungkook’s doe eyes have reached their peak roundness and his mouth is parted slightly open from being caught off-guard like a deer in headlights. 

“Y-You what?” He stutters. 

“I love you.” You grin at him, leg beginning to bounce in anticipation. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle even brighter than possible, their intensity rivaling that of the sun beginning to rise outside. His cheeks once again match his hair and your heart skips a beat as his crinkly smile takes over his whole face. 

“i love you too. But what about your parents? We can’t lie to them forever.” 

“That doesn’t matter. When I said I was done with them I meant it. Besides, I don’t really care what they think anymore. If they don’t love you for you, then that’s their problem.” You say, reaching over to grab onto his hand. Your heart is still slightly racing from the nerves of confessing but as Jungkook’s comforting warmth seeps from his hand into yours you know you’ll be okay. You have a home now, a family. Your family may be small with just you, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin (you two have gotten much closer since you’ve been working together). It may not be much but to you they’re you’re everything and you wouldn’t trade them for all the money in the world. 

“Scooch over.” Jungkook says before sliding next to you and throwing an arm around you. 

“What are you doing?” You ask. The waitress comes over and places your food down before disappearing into the kitchen. 

“What does it look like? i’m sitting next to my girlfriend.” He says giddily before pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek and giggling into your neck as both of you grow shy. 

“Bold of you to assume we’re dating.” You tease and his other arm wraps around your waist to pull you into him. 

“Bold of you to assume I’d confess and then not make you mine.” He mumbles into your neck. 

“If I remember correctly I was the one who confessed.” Jungkook pulls back to roll his eyes at you. 

“You couldn’t have just let me be cute.” He whines, pouting. This time you finally give in a place a soft kiss against his jutted lower lip. 

“You’re always cute kook.” He nuzzles his nose into your neck and you laugh, bringing a hand up into his hair. 

“Is this your embarrassed tic?” You tease. “Because I hate to tell you but it really just makes you that much cuter.” You giggle. 

“You’re the worst.” He groans but moves so he can kiss you properly. His hands cup your cheeks stroking your cheekbones as he kisses you soft and slow. It’s more than you could’ve imagined because it’s real and when he pulls away and his eyes stay closed for a little while longer like he’s trying to relish the feeling a little longer, with a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips you just know this it is. Love is all about the give and take and you’d give Jungkook the world if it meant you could take small moments like this. 

“i love you.” Jungkook murmurs leaning in to give you another kiss, the food in front of you long forgotten.

“I love you too you dork.” You mumble against his lips. 

[geminimoonbeamx]

The Lost Girl Chronicles Part 1: Hexs and Heartache

A/N: Soooo, this is a very random update from me. I know. But you guys know my love of Chase Collins and I thought I’d give you guys something because I know I’ve been in a writers drought and that’s not fair to y’all.

Word Count: 10k+

Warnings: Mature/Explict material. Smut from the get go. Talks of self doubt, that maybe be triggering. Sacrilegious themes. And everyone knows I have the dirtiest mouth and curse like a sailor.

Summary: You’ve been hooking up with Chase, secretly, since he moved to Ipswich. After a series of misunderstandings and even worse, miscommunications, you find yourself emerged in the dark underworld of Ipswich.

I wanna be your lover, I don't wanna’ be your friend. You don’t know what you got til’ it’s gone my dear, so tell me that you love me again- Noah Cyrus, Again.

-One Month Ago-

You whimper as your thick thighs lock around Chase’s lithe waist, his hips moving- plowing fast, your whole body swaying with his effort. 

“Oh god, oh fuck- Chase” You cry, one of your hands taloning at his shoulder and the other looking for purchase in the leather interior of his fancy car. At first, the narrow bench of a backseat had been daunting but the two of you had made due.

“You feel so good for me baby, shit, so tigh” He coos into the soft skin of your neck where he’s nuzzled his face. Where his hot panting breaths scold your flesh.

Baby. Oh, the way he says it…

It makes you clench around him and let out a sob as you feel a rush of adoration surge through you. The way he’s got you held in his big arms, your body feeling small in a way that was usually so foreign to you was hypnotic. Addicting. Felt so good that it still shocked you. 

You’d never known sex could be like this. That someone could be so animalistic, so passionate and yet so tender. Chase pulls his head from it’s place to look at you, his powder blue eyes enveloped by his dark, blown pupils.

He loves the way you look when your getting fucked. Your hair a mess around your flushed hot face. Your eyes wild and needy little sounds pouring like a river from your swollen mouth.

Your stare is desperate as his eyes that gleam like molten silver in the dark car fixes on you.

He has you at that point, the one where you know only he’ll be able to quell the almost terrifying feeling bubbling inside you.

“It’s okay pretty baby- you’re okay” His voice is soothing, is gentle but his thrusts aren't. He’s so deep inside of you, it’s almost as if you can feel him in your chest. “Come for me- do it. Fucking do it, Y/N”

He demands, you squeak and both of your arms go to wrap around him, as though he’s anchoring you to this realm.

When you reach your crescendo, its with a wail, your body tightening all over pleasure rushes through your limbs and then crashes over your pelvis in waves.

God, oh god. Only Chase can make you feel like this. Make you go off like a live wire. Make cosmos explode behind eyelids clenched shut so tight it almost hurts.

His hips start to stutter and you feel him go taught, his lips crashing to yours and kissing all the air from your lungs as he begins to come himself.

Chase is loud during his throws, you've learned. Vocal- moans and grunts. Broken little curses as his face screws up and he shoots off deep inside of you, nearly crushing you in his vice like embrace as he clings to your body for dear life. A tether in his sea of bliss.

When you both come down, he relaxes himself on top of you, lets himself be cradled by you, your pillow like curves welcoming. He doesn't release his hold of you either.

His head is resting on your bosom, and your fingers are training through his thick, messy mane. Fingertips massaging his scalp in a way that has him purring as he lazily laps at one of your large, puffy nipples.

It makes your back arch and you push him away “Fuck, stop!”

“Why?” That ever present mischievous glint in his eye is back, full forced “Feel too good? Is Miss ‘let’s go another round’ worn out?”

It makes you feel overheated, flustered and maybe a bit shy- and look away from him. Your sexuality, and its insatiable nature, was still pretty new to you. Still taboo and a little embarrassing, even though you know it shouldn't be.

“Hey” Chase untucks one of his arms from under you, so that he can grab your chin, grip it in that way he knows you love and make you look at him. “Hey, don't get like that. I love that you love to fuck- you know I do”

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the grin that stretches across your face.

He makes you feel so wanted.

“Well I think three orgasms is my max for the night. Especially in this car- fuck, could this back seat be anymore uncomfortable? I think your seatbelt buckle stabbed my spine”

At that Chase lets out a deep belly laugh and shakes his head as he leans up, his now limp member sliding out of you. You wince a shaky little sound escapes as you feel his seed dribble out from between your legs where you now gape, due to his rough fucking. You feel empty and a soiled and fuck, you hate this part.

Chase presses kisses to your cheekbones and you shake your head, glowering at him with as much heat as you can “You came inside of me again, you humongous prick!”

Again, with that laugh. The one he found himself emitting when you were around “I’m sorry”

He didn't sound sorry at all. He lays back down, after he’s cleaned himself up with his t shirt and nuzzles at your stomach.

You can’t help it, you still get so unsure when ever he goes near your tummy. It isn’t flat, not even a little. It’s big, covered in stretch marks and every guy you’d been with before had gone out of their way to avoid it...yet Chase tends to gravitate towards it. Likes to lay on you and grab at your sides and press kissed all over your middle. Says it’s soft and cute.

Makes you feel vulnerable, opened up to him like you’d never been for anyone else.

“I can tell” You deadpan, the matter of his cum inside you still at hand “I’m serious Chase, what if I get pregnant?”

Imagining a baby with his pretty eyelashes and dimpled cheeks isn't so bad...but imagining your dreams for the future- crushed by a teenage pregnancy? Yeah, not happening.

Your dad’s disappointed glare also flashes through your mind and that has you clenching your thighs and sitting up, totally turned off and dried up.

“Dont worry” Chase cajoles, reaching for you even when you try to slap his hand away “ I promise, we’re good”

For some reason you believe him. He made you feel so safe, and cared for. Adored and happy-

But only when the two of you we’re alone. 

That thought had plagued you ever since that rainy night in the back of his car weeks ago.

Yeah, Chase was friendly enough in public, at school. The two of you we’re chummy, that much was obvious. But he didn't kiss you in front of your classmates, never held your hand or whispered to you just how beautiful he thought you we’re like he did in those moments of solitude.

All you got we’re shared looks and smiles. Friendly hugs and pats on the shoulder-

And lately, well lately you haven't got much of anything. Chase had been distant, spending all of his time with is “new best friends” aka the “Sons of Ispwich and co”- co being their girlfriends. One of which you’d watched flirt with him like crazy mere months before. You clearly remember the looks Kate had given across the bonfire at the Dells.

Ever since the ‘Fall Fest’ and the whole debacle of Putnam barn burning to the ground- Caleb harrowingly saving both Chase and Sarah from a fiery death, it seemed he was attached at the hip to the raven haired ‘Son’.

You tried your hardest not to be jealous. He was making friends, and that was good right? You shouldn't be a bitter bitch about it, right?

But why was he ignoring you... Blowing you off at every turn? The two of you hadn't slept together in a month and a half- hadnt gotten together to hang out and share a spliff in his car, or taken the long night time drives that had turned into something like a lullaby to you.

The low hum of the radio and Chase behind the wheel was hypnotic and you longed for that sense of contentment. As though the world around you, outside of the car was null and void and only you and Chase and the little bubble the two of you created existed.

But every time you tried to get a hold of him, reached out- you got the same answer. He was busy.

Chase: I’m sorry, babes. Maybe another time? I’m really busy right now.

Mostly all of the texts you’d received from him lately looked similar and honestly your spirits we’re past dampened.

You we’re bummed as hell.

Because you really liked him, and yet he seemed to be shaping up to be like every other guy you’d ever encountered. The cycle that you’d been through various times seemed to be repeating itself with him and it honestly terrified you.

You we’re his secret.

The girl who was pretty enough have sex with, to lavish attention on in private- but too fat to claim in public. You just weren't desirable, you’d deduced a long time ago.

You were not what guys wanted- at least not to the world.

Through Dm’s and texts- mobilized and in the shadows? Yeah, you got hit on all the time. You were fully aware you had a “pretty” face. But bringing the big girl out and around your friends? No teenage boy your age had grown the balls needed to claim someone like you.

And now he was probably sick of you. Over the little “tryst” and trying to let you down gently.

It hurts so fucking bad, even though you try to deny it. To go about it as though you we’re okay, with smiles and jokes. Ignoring the ice prick like pain in your stomach all the while.

Your friends can see right through it though.

Fall had come swift to the small New England town of Ipswich, painting it in hues of golden amber and rust, leaving everything feeling homey and quaint...

And cold- the chill seemed to have swirled in with the wind and the mornings were frosted with frozen dew.

The first snowfall would be any day now.

But for now, nature was content with rain. The frigid kind that was practically snow, but seemed to melt before it hit the ground and just left everything soggy and freezing. The walk through campus from the dorms to the main building, though it short, was torturous and you found yourself longing for the warmth of your bed long into third period.

You we’re already grouchy- the cold plus the early hour had your face stone like. A natural pout etched onto your features. Really, you we’re just resting it, but you’d been told that it looked like you we’re plotting serial murders when you weren't smiling.

How exhausting. Being expected to wear a smile all the time, in the hopes of appeasing people.

The day goes on as it usually does;  droningly. Your eyes droopy as you listen to your professors, as your hands seem to work of their own accord to scribe out notes. It’s utterly mundane, normal-

You we’re longing for something to break the mold. To rip you from your funk-

Until you over hear something that makes your heart sink into your chest...lower and lower until you’re scared it might fall out of your ass and onto the linoleum floor of the girls bathroom you’re in and you curse yourself for not accepting mundane.

You had just been minding your own business, emptying your bladder before study hall, when Kira Snider and Coco Lindell had walked in.

“I’m so done with Aarons shit- he’s such of good for nothing dick. You heard his father's firm going under? Didn't you?” That was Kira, the naisaly quality of her voice distinct.

“Psht” Coco had said back “His father's firm? More like a bunch of half cocked DA’s who got a decent loan and thought they we’re going to make it big. Their biggest client was some mayor- in Jersey. Pshtttt, bitch”

You had smirked silently, but felt a little odd listening into their conversation from behind a restroom stall. You felt  like a creep but you’d waited too long now- might as well just continue to wait it out until they left.

You regret it, sorely. Wish you would have gotten up and out the moment they’d come in because their conversation soon turned to Chase- and you'd been forced to listen to them talk about the guy you’d been gaga over since the day you’d met him.

Your heart being ripped to shreds with each word spoken from their painted mouths-

“He looks like such a good fuck. Like you can just tell. Boys with baby faces usually are packing the biggest-”

“Coco!”

“What? I’m serious. You should totally fuck him when he takes you out this weekend. Prove me right”

-In silence. On the toilet, a hand clasped over your mouth to keep in the sounds that so desperately tried to escape your throat.

When they’d finally left the bathroom, completely unaware of you and the breakdown they’d caused- you’d exited the stall, catching a glimpse of your mascara tear stained cheeks in the mirrors.

It made your stomach roll and you'd ran the sink, using folded up damp paper towels in an attempt to wipe away the evidence of your heartache.

Your furious scrubbing at your eyes had left you appearing racoonish for the rest of the day. 

“You look especially pleasant today” Adrian says as he sits down at the chair across from you at the table you’d found in the crowded library.

It just takes one glance, your big eyes meeting his for what seemed like to seconds for him to frown, his playful atmosphere instantly turning more serious, curious.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

He really did know you too well- which was to be expected considering the eleven year friendship you shared. He was your best friend, the person who knew you better than anyone. And of course he’d been privy to your “situationship” with Chase. Hell, he’d been there when you’d met the guy-

So as you pour out the details of what you’d over heard; of Kira and her rebound with Chase.

Of the dates they’d been on.

Of how she wanted to sit on his face until he drowned,

how much she loved the same stormy eyes you did.

How they we’re going to the towns annual Thanksgiving parade together. The one that you’d been desperately, pathetically, stupidly, hoping he’d accompany you to.

Adrian absorbs it all, shaking his head. Frowning, his face scrunched up beautifully even though he was so obviously distressed that you seemed to be so devastated about it.

“Bullshit. No way? Kira, really?” He makes a very distasteful gesture with his tongue that looks like a gag “How foul- I thought he had better taste than that”

You just nod, trying to focus on your Psychology paper, on the words. Hoping to distract yourself, even if just a little bit. Just enough to keep you from letting your emotions bubble back up to the surface.

“Listen, boo- I know you like him. Like way more then I think even you realize, but I think you should kick his trifling ass to the curb”

Of course, you shake your head. That was Adrian's logic- life was too short to take bullshit. He’d taken it all throughout his childhood, taken verbal(and physical) beatings for just...being. He’d grown, and was still growing, into someone so unapologetically himself- that he hoped it would one day rub off on you.

“You deserve more then some guy who only calls you to fuck. And yes, said fucking might be amazing, but is it worth it? Worth getting blown off and feeling like garbage? Have some sense of self worth, Y/N” He could also be blunt, so blunt people mistook it for rude.

And sometimes, he was rude.

“Fuck you” You shoot at him at that. Already defensive and raw from the bathroom debacle “I do have self worth”

“I’d hope so! You’re an amazing person- and yeah, I might be biased but if vaginas were my thing I’d totally make you a 50’s breeding machine house wife” He says casually “I just don’t get it- Kira? Why?”

“Why wouldn't he? She’s everything guys like him want”

“Which is what, pray tell?” Adrian folds his arms on the table and gives you a serious look.

“Well she’s rich as shit, there’s a starter” You point out and he rolls her eyes, but he can't deny you there. Kira is rich as shit. Her father owned dozens upon dozens of car dealerships.

Sleazy ran in the family apparently.

“What is he into other then that? Her faulty nose job that makes her look like Will Ferrell?”

You snort. Usually neither of you were the type to tear on your fellow woman- but Kira was a special case. Venomous and vain and out rightly nasty, you really didn't have anything nice to say about her other then the face that she wasn't as stupid as people painted her to be, and-

“She’s what all guys want; thin and pretty and white. Of course he’d go after her, Adrian” you let it out with a sigh, defeated sounding.

And even though Adrian spends the rest of the hour lecturing you on self love, and how wrong societies form of “european beauty being the norm” was, all things you knew, you felt torn down and tired for the rest of the day, battling the Friday afternoon, more than ready for the weekend that you knew you’d most likely spend the entirety of moping. 

You see Chase, standing with his friends- flocked at the benches outside after the school day is over.

He smiles at you- waving.

Looking friendly and open, as though he hadn't been treating you like utter shit. Betraying you- using you as a quick fuck while he took other girls on dates. Leading you to believe that maybe, just maybe he liked you...all the while pursuing Kira.

You just frown, hard, at him for a fraction of a second, not waving back or acknowledging him before you turn to your friends. Walking away, leaving him feeling a little confused at your reaction.

“Rejected” Reid sniggers, all of them having seen the exchange and Chase glares at him, but accepts the hash pen from the blonds nimble fingers.

“That was weird. Y/N is always so friendly” Sarah interjects, leaning against Caleb “I was actually just talking to her during first period and she seemed fine?”

Chase shrugs, tries to physically shake it “I don't know”

“She’s cute” Tyler chimes and funny, it’s the one called “baby boy” by all who always seems to be the most mature. Who doesn't care that he could be ridiculed for calling the fat girl cute “Arent the two of you still messing around?”

Chase doesnt like this, this conversation that circled around him. He’d been raised to be secretive and it all made him uncomfortable.

“She has a nice ass- of course he’s still talking to her” Pogue deduces and Kate just nods in agreement before adding, “Kardashian fat without the needles. Lucky bitch”

God, those two had the oddest relationship.

Conversation soon drifts from talks of you, but his mind doesn't. Swirling thoughts of your frown, of the way your eyes that were usually clear and bright had clouded...and then hardened in a way he’d never seen.

He knows something is wrong when later that night he shoots you a text, and you dont reply. Not fifteen minutes later. Not an hour-

After three hours he realizes he’s not getting a reply and he falls into a restless sleep. 

Saturdays’ chaotic all day, the Covenant meeting with Caleb's uncle who also happened to be the towns mayor. There was a demon, another one, on the loose that needed to be taken care of. That leads to the rest of the day being bled away in the Danvers family carriage houses’ basement which doubles as an ancient witchcraft filled library.

Its like homework, more stacked on top of his already towering pile from school. He reads ancient texts until his eyes cross and they’re all begging Caleb to have mercy on them and give them a fucking break.

He’s been texting you all day. Or at least trying to. He hasn't been able to get a hold of you- all of his messages opened and read, and yet left unreplied

Chase: Hey:)

Chase: I feel like I haven't hung out with you in forever, I’m starting to miss you

Chase: I know your starting to miss me too

Chase: ? Y/N?

He’s composing his fifth text of the last few hours when Caleb shakes his head.

“What?” Chase snaps at him. He could be so condescending sometimes and it always set off Chase’s temper.

“She still hasn't replied to you yet? What did you do to her?”

Caleb's voice always has that...sage quality to it. Like he’s going to help you fix all your problems and it, too, drives Chase crazy. Like his newfound “brothers” felt the need to baby him. God forbid he loose it and try to steal everyone else's powers again.

“I didn't do anything” Chase hisses at him and that earns him chuckles from all the men in the circular, dungeon like basement.

“Translation: I totally fucked up and I just don't know where yet” Pogue teases “Tell her your sorry, give her a coupe orgasms and order pizza and she’ll start to get over it...What? It always works with Kate”

Chase frowns at that. You weren't Kate though, didn't love drama. You’d just tell him if you were upset, wouldn’t you? Communication was your key- what you seemed to thrive on.

“She’s not like that- She’d tell me if I’d pissed her off”

There's groans, and chuckles and “Aw man’s” at his statement and Chase is starting to hate this whole having coven assigned brothers thing already.

“No, she’s a woman, dude. It doesn't matter, this is just how they tick. You’ve gotta’ suck it up and apologize- not just with head and pizza” Caleb interrupts his advice by giving Pouge a pointed look “but by really talking to her- I mean, that is if it’s worth it to you. If you’re really into her”

And Chase is. He knows he is. He also knows that his life has been taken over by the supernatural and he hasn't gotten to spend a lot of time with you as of late, but that last night in his car seemed to be on a loop in his head.

He missed your fingers in his hair and they way that you made him laugh.

Chase pursed his lips and shrugged and Caleb rolls his eyes and goes back to his research.

“Real shit, girls really aren't that complicated. All they want is to feel valid. Like they matter, like they’re not getting screwed over or played stupid and honestly- you’ve been spending so much time with us lately that I highly doubt you’ve spent any with her.

And on top of that, you treat her like she's just a homie at school- you’re so frigid with her that you might as well fist bump her next time you see her.

I wouldn't have any idea the two of you fuck around if we weren't friends, you keep it that low key. So yeah, wouldn't you get pissed?” That sonnet, that explanation of the female perspective comes from none other then Reid Garwin. He really wasn't the fuck boy womanizer everyone thought he was...or maybe he was- but he had a gooey center. Romantic as fuck at heart.

Cupid in the flesh.

The guys all stare at him for a moment, silent and big eyes. Like what he was saying was more complex and harder to grasp then the Ancient texts they were reading.

“But pizza helps too, I swear” Pogue is an idiot.

And apparently so is Chase. 

His texts, and then calls, go unanswered all weekend, and he’s not used to the rock like lumps he feels in his throat everytime he picks up his phone and sees that it has no notifications. Your name void from the screen of the device.

Even though he knows you have your phone in hand. He checks your snapchat and spots that you’re out with your friends, dinner and a movie. Joking and smiling and fine…

When he tries to check your other social medias, see if your Facebook(and he hasn't even logged on to the app in weeks, since his life had turned into a real life episode of ghost adventures) had any clue to as why you seemed to be pissed at only him, he’s gobsmacked to learn that you’ve unfriended him.  He stares at the ‘Add friend’ element on your page until his eyes burn, trying to ignore the way he feels like he’d been slapped across the face.

His confusion turns into haughty anger. Because he’s Chase fucking Collins and girls had always flocked to him. And he really thought the two of you had some sort of...he doesn't know. Psychic bond? He’d never talked to any girl like he talked to you. Never came as hard as he did when he was inside of your tight, wet cunt.

The thought of you and your sex makes his eyes roll into the back of his head and he bites the top of his phone case as he thinks about it. About how much he misses your soft body. The round belly he loved to cradle- your breasts. Huge and welcoming and perfect to bury his face in when the world was just too much for him. Your thighs that you hated but that he loved to slide between-

When a chirp comes from his phone he has it pulled up close to his face at a shamefully fast pace, hoping that you’d finally come around. That this had all just been some weird misunderstanding and-

His spirits fall and his lips pull down into a frown as soon as he sees the name on the screen.

Fuck, he hisses, annoyed.

He should have never given his number to Kira at that party a few weeks ago. But he’d been drunk and she’d been so flirty and...well, he was a teenage boy. He never claimed to be perfect. Actually, he was far from it.

Kira was hot, no doubt. Redheaded and petite...but she was annoying as fuck an had a mean streak that made his look miniscule. He really wasn't interested and she didn't seem to get that. He kept running into her everywhere, and it was a rare day that he didn't get some kind of message from her.

Tonights was her offering up a midnight meetup-

Kira: I’m lonely. Let’s hang out later? I stay up late ;)

Chase frowns. Yeah, his dick is already stirring, and hasnt been touched since almost a month ago- but the idea of having late night hangouts with anyone but you is almost sacrilegious to him. He couldn't. He wouldn't...late nights in Ipswich we’re for long drives with you, blunts burning and conversations flowing. They were therapeutic and happy…

And fuck he missed you so much.

“If that’s worth it to you” he hears Caleb’s voice in his head “If you’re really into her”

And Chase has known that he’s liked you since...well pretty much since he met you but this feeling he gets is something different.

He really...he really needs to get a hold of you.

He sends you a few more messages, completely ignoring Kira’s in turn, and when he doesn't get a reply- just like he expected he wouldn't, he’s jumping up from his bed, rummaging for his shoes and his keys.

The weekend had been brutal for you.

You hadn't really realized just how deeply your feelings ran for Chase until they had been stomped on, and your heart felt achy and strained. You’d spent all friday night sobbing, happy that Reyna, your roommate had a little kick back to attend so that you could sob your heart out in peace.

“Are you sure? I can stay?” She had always been so sweet, and you we’re happy as hell to be rooming with someone you not only could stand, but actually liked.

You’d sniffled, eyes red rimmed and forced a smile that looked more like a painful grimace.

“No, please. One of us needs to get cute and have a good time tonight. Go- have fun. I’ll be fine. Really”

You we’re far from fine. You’d never really cried yourself to sleep before; life had been kind enough to you in your young years that you didn't feel the need to-

Movies romanticize that shit, intensely. There’s always the pretty heroine main character who gets her heart broken, sobs herself to sleep and then in the morning is fine-

You fell asleep, hard. Stiff. With tears still falling steadily down your cheeks, your neck, and into your shirt. The blankets pulled up over your head.

And woke up feeling like a corpse. Like you had been hit by a motherfucking freight train. Your face was swollen, and your nose stuffy. Your sinuses screamed at you and were congested to hell and back. Your shoulders hurt and as you sat up, wincing at the sunlight your head pounded.

No one ever told you that crying for ten hours straight felt akin to a Mad Dog 20/20 hangover.

Adrian had showed up that day, and along with Reyna and a bucket load of snacks and an order from that new health cafe in towns circle (because you were dehydrated as fuck from crying your body weight in tears. Who knew?)

You slowly started to regain your motor skills after your body is filled with green juice and poppyseed bagel.

Still, your head was laid in Adrians lap and you made him feed your favorite flavored pringles.

Your phone had been steadily beeping all day, and each was a new text from Chase. At first you refused to even look at them, trying your hardest to zone them out, but then curiosity got the best of you. The need to see what he had to say overpowering you.

He’s so nonchalant it makes you mad. Furious. Stabs of anger over the already painful throws of betrayal caused the pain you're feeling.

He tells you he misses you, and that he knows you miss him and your upper lip curls.

“He’s such a fucking prick” You glare at the texts and Adrian and Reyna share a look.

This is what you did, frequently. You weren't comfortable being sad, depressed...vulnerable. So you raged. Because anger was an emotion you were actually comfortable exploring.

And rage you did.

On Chase. On the situation. And then on yourself. Because what a fucking idiot. You’d been so stupid.

You do petty, irrational things like unfriend him on facebook and erase the couple pictures of the two of you you had on instagram.

You can't bring yourself to go through with deleting the picture that you’d snapped in his car.

It was a dark night and the two of you had drove to the middle of nowhere; you'd managed to get an aesthetically pleasing picture of the burning blunt, the bottom of Chases handsome smiling face in the background. His perfect jaw and white smile. The dimple in his chin more pronounced than ever.

You hate how much you miss him.

Chase sends you twelve texts and calls you over five times over the course of the next few days but you ignore them all. You almost break, a couple times.

Chase: I know I must have done something wrong? Can you please just answer me so we can figure this out? Please?

And for anything else, you think yeah. Maybe you could have figured it out. You could have figured out the fact that he ignored you for a month. That he blew you off at every turn. That you’d sucked up your pride and all but begged for even ten minutes of his time, just to have him deny you.

You could have figured out the fact that he was keeping you a secret. That he pretended he hadn’t had his tongue in your pussy when you were at school- that you two were just good friends.

But Kira? Him messing with other girls? While he ignored you….

It was just too much. You’d taken too many blows to your self worth and you couldn't do it anymore.

Adrian and Reyna are godsent and make it their responsibility to keep you busy. Force you to shower and get ready; even if it is only a sweatshirt and a pair of furry slides. You go see the new Seth Rogen movie and eat at your favorite little mediterranean place in the town over, the one where Adrian gets flirty enough with the waiter and scores you guys a couple rounds of house blend margaritas.

You didn't want to do anything in Ipswich, for fear of seeing him.

The weekend actually goes by quickly. Too quick. You dread school on monday where your avoidance of Chase will inevitably be harder. Where you’ll see Kiras smarmy face in your Biology class and think about the two of them and what they spent their “date” doing. 

Sunday night is calm.

You and Reyna are pressed together in her bed. Lounding and draped in plush blankets as your laptop that is propped up by pillows plays episodes of Game of Thrones. Somehow your friend had fallen behind, and you being the huge nerd you were, were more than willing to catch up on the season she’d missed.

Your phone chimes, but it’s across the room on your desk and you figure it’s either a Facebook notification or another bullshit message from Chase so you ignore it. It’s getting late anyway, and you’re far too comfortable and warm to get up and journey over to check it.

About a half an hour later when you hear quiet knocking at your door you and Reyna both look at eachother, the light from the laptop and the noise of a gory battle in the background.

“It’s like 11:30” she announces the obvious and you fight the urge to roll your eyes as you get up and pad over to see who it is.

Probably Brenda- the hall manager of the floor. She could be a little neurotic and take her “job” a little too seriously. Probably making her rounds, a second time to make sure lights are out.

You step up on your tiptoes to peak out of the small window like port above the door and what you see causes your whole body to freeze up.

The air in your lungs gets stuck and you literally go immobile. Eyes wide and your mouth falling open, before you crouch down- hoping to not be seen in the foggy glass panes.

“Y/N! Who is it? What’s going on?” Your actions had sparked fear in Reyna who jumps up and hurried beside you. You really needed to stop letting her watch all those serial killer documentaries with you.

“It’s Chase” you whisper frenziedly to her, from the ground.

“Chase?! Oh my god, he’s here?!” Why does she sound a little excited? Wonder mixing in with her shock.

Also, why the hell is she so loud?

“Yes! Shut the fuck up! Shut up!” You glare up at her, slicing your finger to your mouth as you signal for her to be quiet.

She shakes her head , but at least now she speaks in a whisper “Y/N, he knows your here. We have to answer. I’ll answer it-”

“No!” You shake your head.

“Yes- go like hide and i’ll say you’re not here and-”

You just keep shaking your head.

Maybe he’d leave? You knew he knew you were here, but maybe he’d think the two of you we’re asleep and he’d go and you wouldn't be forced to face him-

“You guys do know I can hear you right? These walls are paper thin” Chase’s deep, even voice sounds from outside the door and another wash of dread makes you close your eyes. This was NOT happening.

“Y/N...please just talk to me” He sounds so...forlorn. Tired. Pleading. It physically hurts to hear his voice.

“I think you should hear him out. Or I mean, at least say what you need to say to him” Reyna advises, her honey eyes comforting as she urges you to do what you know you need to “Plus he’s going to wake up Brenda and get us all demerits and I am not down for detention”

You sigh. Knowing she’s right. You we’re going to have to put on your big girl panties and face the guy who had tap danced on your heart, and although it sucked, you didn't really have another option.

You wanted to crawl into bed and bury yourself under your comforter, but instead you stood up, trying to straighten your old, oversized sweater.

You’d imagined confronting Chase a lot in the past few days- but none of those fantasies where you we’re a boss bitch and told him how badly he’d fucked up included you being in your favorite pair of flamingo pajama pants.

You took a deep breath and opened the door, cracked it really, to where only with half of your body visible as you peeked out into the dark hallway.

Chase was standing there. Hands in his pockets, looking at you with those blue eyes that seemed to catch all of the residual light in the corridor. He looked...tired. His body seeming to both tense and relax as you came into view.

“Uh...Hi” He greets softly, the side of his mouth pulling up. Yours stays in a frown.

“Chase? What are you doing here? It’s after curfew-” you start in, your tone unamused, crossed.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just didn't know how else to get a hold of you” He interupts, trying in vain to quell your annoyance “I really needed to talk to you”

“I really dont think there’s anything we need to talk about” At your words his face contorts up. In confusion, and blatant hurt.

“What? Y/N, what the fuck is going on? I think we have a fuck lot to talk about, actually. How about the fact that you’ve ignored my messages all weekend?” His voice is raising, and you sush him. He really is about to wake up your dorm supervisor and you tell him so.

Chase sighs, he’s not going to wake up anyone. He’d put a concealment charm on the entirety of the hall- save your room of course. No one could hear anything going on outside their rooms at the moment.

But of course he can't tell you that. There's so much he can't tell you and he hates it.

“Okay fine. You’re so worried I’m gonna wake someone up? Let's go for a drive, we can talk in my car…” He knows he’s going out on a limb even asking you that but he cant help how badly he hopes you’ll say yes.

He begs whatever celestial deities there may be that you’ll agree. Because fuck, he didn't realize how much he missed you. Your hair is messy and undone and your face is free of makeup and you look so damn soft in your pajamas...at least what he can see of you.

You’re still peeking out from behind your door.

You shake your head and look down “I can't”

“Why not?” He’s got that edge to his voice again. That one that’s near pleading “Y/N...I promise we’ll just talk, and drive. And maybe smoke a little bit- but that’s all, okay?”

You knew what he was saying. That he didn't come here for sex, because most of the time that’s what you’re late night drives lead to.

You really want to say no. You wish you were strong and resilient. Like Adrian. You wish you were the bad ass woman you we’re in your head, that you could tell him no and slam the door in his face and be done with it.

But you’re not, you’re just a teenage girl and you huff, tell him to wait a minute as you grab a jacket and slip on a pair of moccasins and tell Reyna you’ll be back soon.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” She wonders as your shuffling into your shoes.

“No”, but you grab your phone and M.K purse anyway. 

You end up in Chases passenger seat as he drives down the winding back roads, and it’s somewhere you’ve been so many times and yet...it feels so different tonight.

You keep your arms folded over your chest, leaning against the door, as far away from him as possible. Wondering why the fuck you’d come with him in the first place.

The vents blow out warm air and music plays softly from the sprakers, and yet the atmosphere couldn't be more frigid.

You hadn't spoken more than one word answers to him since your room and now you weren't speaking at all. He’s taken aback by just how mad you are at him. You’d never been so cold to him and he really doesn't know how to manage it.

He lets you stew in your silence until he pulls up at a clearing in the trees. It faces a little field and can't be seen from the main road. The two of you had found it a couple months ago when school had started.

He stops the car, shifting the gear into park. His hands are still on the wheel, gripping it anxiously as he tries to figure out what exactly to say to you.

“I uh- I’m sorry” That seems like the right thing to say, but you just scoff and tighten your arms around yourself.

“I really am. I know I’ve been distant lately and that hasn't been fair to you...but I wasn't doing it because I’m not interested in you, or seeing you, anymore”  Chase sounds nervous, and it’s a far cry from his usaul cock sure dispositon “My life has just gotten really...fucking messy and I didnt mean to make you feel like I didn't want you in it anymore”

You can't help it, something in you snaps. He really is a fucking piece of work, really thinks he can play you. “Want me in your life? How? Like this” You gesture to the car, to the darkened woods outside “Calling me up in the middle of the night and fucking me in the woods when your bored and horny? I get it, you’re ashamed of me. You’re not the first guy whose don't this shit to me, but I’m done”

“I’m not ashamed of you, Y/N” He tries to reach for you, your words making him wince, but you pull away from him. Shaking your head, vehemently.

“No don't. Don't say that. Don't lie to me anymore. You are ashamed. Fucking the fat girls not good for your reputation, right? No. No I get it. I wouldn't want to embarass you in front of your friends” there  are unshed tears in your eyes and your voice keeps breaking, straining as you try to keep from letting them fall “Why don't you just keep screwing around with Kira and leave me alone”

There is so much there for Chase to digest that he doesn't know where to start.

“First off, don't say that shit. I’m not embarrassed of you, and I could give a flying fuck about my reputation” He spits the word incredulously. You had no idea just how bad his “reputation” really was. No idea the horrible shit he’d done. He couldn't care less about what his school yard peers thought of him.

“And secondly screwing with Kira? What? I barely know her”

“That’s great. So you’re fucking some girl you barely know...I let you inside of me without a condom, Chase. I never do that! You know you’re the only one I’ve ever done that with and now I’m-” you take a pause, to breathe through your nose in an attempt to calm down “Now I’m a little freaked out about what you could have given me”

Again, he feels like you’ve slapped him. Fuck. How is it that you’re able to wound him, by doing so little?

“I couldn't give you anything because I haven't been with anyone since we started fucking” He’s upset. It shows, he sounds pissed and you hate it.

But also...a sick part of you loves it.

Good. You hope he’s feeling even a fraction of the bad you’ve been feeling for weeks.

“You dont have to bullshit me, I already know about you and Kira, no thanks to you. It’s whatever at this point”

“There is no me and Kira so whatever you think you know is false. And whoever you’re getting your information from has fucking sucky intel” He hates this small town and this tiny school full of gossiping simpletons.

Was this why you we’re so upset with him? Because you thought he had something going with Kira?

“Actually I heard it from Kira herself so one of you is obviously lying” You’re defensive still. Unbelieving and closed up.

“And you really think it’s me who's lying? After everything? I’ve told you things I’ve never told anyone else...and you think I’d look you in the face and lie to you about Kira fucking Snider?” Chase’s own voice cracks, he’d told you about his childhood. About his shitty abusive adoptive father.

It makes you bite your bottom lip, hard.

You don't know what to think. How to feel. What to believe. So you tell him about what you’d overheard in the bathroom, not sparing any details and he listens in pure disgust.

He can tell you dont believe him and that really sucks. Really hurts him. “I’d believe you over anyone. Anytime. You wouldn't even have to say anything- I’d never take someone else's word over yours”

“That’s so unfair! And you know it” You’re trying to stay mad, you really are, but the tears in your eyes that are starting to leak aren't from anger “You basically ignore me for over a month, and okay your life's been stressful, but I’ve been here. Begging you to open up to me. What am I supposed to think, Chase? I know you don't want to be with me...you make that obvious enough. But I feel...you make me feel...so much”

For as eloquent as you usually are, you can't manage the words. Can’t form the sentences. Are there even words, for what you feel when you’re around him?

“I’m sorry, baby. Please don't cry” He whispers as he reaches for you once more. This time you don't yank away, but you also don't melt into his embrace like you usually do.

You’re stiff, as you harsly wipe at your face. Smearing the tears away as they fall.

His own eyes sting at seeing you like this. “I don't want Kira- I don't want anyone else but you”

You squeeze your eyes closed and he gives your thigh a reassuring rub “I do want to be with you Y/N. There’s nothing about you that I’m ashamed of”

“Bullshit” You hiccup. It’s honestly easier for you to believe that he was screwing Kira then that he wanted to be with you.

“Why? Why do you say that?”

“Because guys like you don't end up with girls like me. This is real life and that’s just not fucking possible” You croak the words and he sighs.

He knows, although you really do keep a pretty good lid on it, the self doubt you harbor. The way you see yourself...how conscious you are of you body. Of everything about yourself.

“Girls like you?” It’s a rhetorical question and you huff and try to push his hand off your thigh. He barely budged.

“Yeah, Chase. Girls like me”

“I’m not...Kira. Or Kate or Sarah. I’m…” You choke on the words.

Fat.

Ugly.

Unwantable.

Embarrassing.

“Sexy? Funny?” Chase supplements and you shake your head and stare out of the inky window. You cant hear this. Can't accept it. It makes hysteria rise in your chest.

Chase makes a sound in his throat and reaches over the console, so that he can press closer to you. “Smart as shit? Sweet as candy...you are Y/N. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met. Way to fucking good for someone like me...but I’ll take it. I want it. Fuck, I want it so bad. I miss you. I miss the way you sound when you’re begging for it”

You can’t help it. His words, he so good with his words. He makes you feel like you’re floating when he talks to you like this. Your head leans over and he presses his face into your hair. You can feel his little hot puffs of air  in the sensitive shell of your ear.

“I missed you” you whimper in admittance. It had been so long since he’d been this close.

That seems to sober him up a little, clear his horny eighteen year old mind.

He sighs.

“I missed you too...but my life...is all fucked up right now. I wasn’t kidding about that”

You turn to face him, grabbing the hand that’s on your knee. Lacing his fingers with your own much shorter, plumper ones.

“Talk to me about it” you urge, gently. In that beautiful, silk-soft cadence of yours, the one that comes out for the the first time since you’ve been upset with him and it makes a part of him light up inside.

And then he sighs. Deeply. His head bowing a bit.

“I can’t”

“Why not? We talk about everything, Chase?” Your brows scrunch together as you squeeze his hand.

“Not this...I can't get you involved in this. It’s dangerous and...I don’t want to ruin you”

“Ruin me? What do you mean? I don’t understand”

Ruin you, he thinks. Ruin your perception of the world. Make you aware of the monsters that lived under your bed- of the darkness that crept in the shadows.

He just clenches his jaw so hard his teeth hurt and you hum and reach up to thumb at the flexing muscle in his cheek.

He looks at you and you drown in pools of argent blue.

“You’re so pure- no I’m serious. So good, Y/N. You don’t even know how- don’t even realize. And I don’t want to fuck things up for you l-I. We both know I’m good at doing that…” he gives a small, self deprecating laugh and you frown.

You really don’t understand what he’s trying to tell you.

“You’re good, too” he snorts and you persist “You are. You’re so good to me- even when I doubt you. You’re- you’ve been better to me then any guy has. Ever”

He reaches over then, closing the distance and pressing his lips to yours. It’s chaste, but sweet like syrup and you savor the feeling of his plush mouth against yours.

“You deserve all the good things, Y/N. But I am literally the opposite of good” He tells you as he pulls away, mouth still close enough to yours that you feel the words rather than hear them.

“I don’t understand why you think that”

“If you knew what I was...what we are, you’d understand why I’m not good. Why I’ll never be” He curses himself, he know he shouldn’t be telling you any of this but he can’t help it.

You’re like a beacon in the dark and he’s a moth to the flame. He loses all sense when it comes to you. It’s terrifying as it is thrilling.

“What we are? Who are you talking about? You’re acting like you’ve joined a cult or something” You search his face for any clue as to what in the fuck he’s going on about and then prices start coming together. Slowly but surely.

“But then again you kind of have, huh? You’ve been spending a lot of time with the Sons lately”

Chase can’t help but chuckle as he pulls back, rubbing a hand across his forehead “And you are way too fucking smart”

“I’m still lost though? What does you being “bad” have to do with them? And why are they bad? Stuck up and a little pretentious? Yeah. But bad?”

He shouldn’t have said anything. He knows he shouldn’t. Knows that now, there’s no way you’ll let it drop and that either he can tell you what’s going on or you’ll dig until you find it out on your own…

But maybe he always wanted to tell you. They’d told Kate and Sarah? And countless others who could be trusted over the years. Why couldn’t you know? Why couldn’t he have someone who made him feel a little less lonely in this underworld he lived in.

He turns to look at you “Y/N, I have to tell you something. And you’re not going to believe me- and you may flip shit...but I don’t want to keep secrets from you anymore”

You nod slowly, not knowing just what you were in for “Okay, it’s okay, Chase. You can tell me”

And he’s just about to-

When suddenly an inhuman screech cuts through the air. It sounds feral, animalistic- like nothing you had ever heard. Your brain has no picture to put with that sound, and your head snaps in the direction of the field. Searching for the cause of such can a horrible, eerie wail. In the distance, there’s a figure. It looks like some sort of goat…

But then it stands up straight on two legs. It has to be more than 6 feet tall- and its eyes are glowing bright red. Like two tiny pools of fire in the darkness.

“Oh shit” Chase curses as he starts his car, and he’s slamming his foot down and sending the car flying into reverse before you can even comprehend what’s going on.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck” he curses as he swings the car into drive then and presses the gas pedal as hard as he can, the car lurching forward as the tires squeal.

You are sufficiently freaked out, to say the very least. Your heart is pumping fast and fear is shooting through you.

“Chase?! Chase what’s going on? And what the ever loving fuck was that” You hold on to the the armrest with one hand and the roof handle with the other as you squeal at him.

Chase is pushing 90 and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to slow down- if anything he’s going faster.

“It’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine” he tries to calm you down because he can hear the trepidation in your voice.

Really, it should be okay.

They’d found both a spell and a brewed a potion to vanquish the demon- but this wasn’t how he wanted to tell you. This is exactly what he had been dreading.

Bringing you into situations like this.

“Oh really?! You’re going like 100 miles per hour and I just saw...some kind of fucking creature in the field back there, right after we were talking about cults nonetheless. I’m not really feeling like everything’s fine right now. I’m actually feeling like everything’s the opposite of fine! Holy fuck that think had red eyes, Chase!”

“I’m a witch!” Chase Collins had always been bad with timing, and well- that hadn’t ever changed.

Time seems to go still and quiet as you try to process exactly what he just said. You’re not even breathing really.

“You’re a what?” Is all you can choke out.

“A witch- warlock actually. If we’re being technical”

It’s in his voice. You can tell he’s not fucking with you, that he’s dead serious. Although you have a very open mind and believe in all sorts of things...Chase being a warlock?

Your Chase? A magical being?

“I-“

“I’m sorry I’ve been awol, and that I’ve been lying to you but real, honest to god shit, is that me and Caleb, who is also a warlock, accidentally opened a hells gate on the night of the fall fest and let out all kinds of fucked up demons and I’ve been busy trying to round them all up and send them back where they came from. I wasn’t ghosting you. I just didn’t know how to tell you about all of this”

What he’s saying is insane. It’s a fast jumbled mess that pours from his lips, a confession he knows he shouldn't make. A truth he has no business telling you.

And yet he is.

“You’re telling the truth” you deduce and he gives you the side eye. A small glare that says ‘why the fuck would I like about this’.

“And that thing?”

“Is a Braxas Demon. They’re lower level- but still nasty fuckers. If you’d reach into the glove box for me” you do as he instructs as he talks “There” he refers to a small vile of bright purple liquid “that’s a vanquishing potion. If it tries to attack us, which I doubt it will, that’ll kill it”

Trying to be calm in situations like the one you’re in is futile. Honestly. Your adrenaline is pumping without your control and your flight or fight has been turned on. You can’t sit still and even though your terrified of what you’ll see you can’t help that you keep looking behind you out of the rear window, expecting to see that...demon in the road.

Chase calls Caleb, relays the information to him and you can only hear bits of it through the rushing of blood in your ears.

“I found it. Or I guess it kind of found me.

Up by hanged man's turn- that field. Yup.

I was driving with Y/N- yes she’s here with me. Yes, she saw it.

I had to tell her! It started to chase us!

Fuck you! You knew Sarah for a week before you spilled the covens secret, so spare me the lecture.

Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s still tailing us.

Okay, I’ll meet you there”

And that was the night your life changed forever. 

@peacefulwriter88 @brieannakeogh @supernovasandcoronas @lostinspace33 @4theluvofall @geekyweed @tatathekissypotato @prettybubblesintheair @jaamesbbarnes @wi-atch @sad-af1121 @paulruddx @gifsbysimplysonia @sgtbootybarnes @shayla-markele

So I’ve had this finished in my drafts for FOREVER and I figured what the hell, I haven’t posted in a while and I thought I’d give you guys a lil something. I don’t know whether I want to keep this as just a little one shot- maybe a collection of one shots? Idk I just really love Chase Collins and the vastly under appreciated and under explored world of The Covenant.

[imagine-marvelously]

A Weapon of My Own Design: Flying (Ch 2)

Characters: Loki x OC (Ashira), some randos 

Warnings: People being mean about women, rude language about women, drinking (sorta)

Locations: Her ship, Contraxia

WC: 3,253

Summary: Three days of awkward travel leads Loki to some conclusions. 

A/N: So I also love Game of Thrones so there will also be some Game of Thrones references eventually tossed in. The outfit she wears is inspired by this Pin on Pinterest btw because I’m shit at describing. 

Chapter 1

--

It’s three days into mindless flying in the voids of space when the pair officially talks again. Well, Loki gathers it’s been three days based on the sleep pattern of Ashira. He’s careful to try to be opposite of her: being awake most of the time she is asleep and vice versa. She always leaves food on the table for him, but he found out quickly she wasn’t wrong when she said it is likely expired. All of it tasted of mildew and mold and dust, the actual flavor an after thought. The water tasted decently at least. 

Loki, for the most part, has been quiet on top of his careful avoidance. He isn’t quite sure what to make of the ship, the situation or the woman he is traveling with. Ashira on the other hand is chaotically loud: crashing into things constantly, playing bizarre music even while asleep and leaving parts of various sorts and tools all over the place. It is abundantly clear she is accustomed to traveling alone. It became especially apparent when Loki sat at the small table made barely for two the other morning, maybe evening?, and found himself sitting on an unfinished bomb that Ashira clearly knew about but he had no clue existed until that very moment. 

He has thus far learned the following things about Ashira: 

She is clearly an extremely skilled mechanic and engineer

Even with his Allspeak, he cannot read most of the hand written stuff she leaves lying everywhere, so her native language is not one he knows

She is very, very clearly running away from something that is life or death 

With a huff he sits up carefully from the bottom bunk bed. He already found it odd that the bed she has is a bunk bed shoved against the wall, but when he found out she slept on the tiny window seat, facing the stars, he nearly questioned her sanity entirely. 

Add that to the list: 4) Sleeps in uncomfortable places despite having mildly less uncomfortable arrangements available

The Asgardian wanders down from the top part of the ship after sleeping to see Ashira sitting down in the middle of the floor, tools and parts all around her, the table shoved even further into the wall than he thought possible, and a part of the wall he didn’t even know opened just beside the exit and across from the kitchen propped open with what appears to be a double-sided scythe of some form. At this point of the cycle she is typically up in the cockpit checking their route or showering, so actually seeing her working on something is an entirely new experience. 

Her eyes flit up to his movement. She is also just now experiencing his routine, despite being keenly aware this is when he typically descends. Ashira knows she is the outside variable throwing a wrench in his day but also knows she needs to get this done before they land. 

With a nod of her head she gestures towards the ground in front of her. The prince glances down at the somewhat empty spot that is still entirely crowded by random pieces of universe knows what. He sits carefully, long legs uncomfortably crossed to accommodate the lack of space.

“So, Loki, tell me more about yourself.” She goes back to tinkering with the silver sphere. 

Loki adjusts his posture to be more comfortable before beginning. “As you know I was a king of a planet called Asgard. But previous to that I was one of two princes, became king because my brother became overly arrogant about a situation, was cast out…he returned however, we fought and I sort of fell into a void created from said fight. And you?”

Ashira softly inhales as the sphere cracks open. “Well, I was a princess but due to circumstances I ran away. And that’s why so many people are after me. Apparently running away when you are apart of some big deal is a big no no.” 

Loki picks up a random tool, his need to fight to avoid his truth his growing. But her truth, now that’s of interest. “Princess of where?” 

“Does it matter?” She places the tool aside and reaches inside, pulling up a neon, violently green light that swallows up the room. “I ran away for a reason, and all that matters is I don’t want to be a princess and I don’t want to be from there.”

Loki watches as she switches the light source to her right hand and with her left picks up another tool. “I told you where I am from, eye for an eye, no?”

“An Earthen saying that just makes everyone blind, so no.” 

He can’t even see what she is doing at this point so he drops the tool and leans back. “But you know what Earth is?”

“Earth, Midgard, Terra, all the same…” she muses as she reattaches a few broken wires. 

Loki sighs. It’s unlikely he will be getting anything out of her any time soon from the mumbling of an answer she’s given. 

Add that to the list, 5) She is stubborn. 

Ashira drops the green power source back into its containment, eyes flicking back up to Loki. The green in the room subdues back to nothing as before and Loki looks directly into Ashira’s eyes. If there is one thing he can do if she is going to be stubborn, it’s attempting to read her mind without physical contact. 

“My family and people probably think me dead,” he says sadly. 

Ashira re-seals the containment unit without even blinking, maintaining her stare down with Loki. While normally he can get some semblance of noise at least, he is getting nothing. No sentences, no words, no word fragments, not even static. Silence. He is not even getting an inkling of an idea of what she could even be thinking, forget trying to figure out where she is from originally. 

“Fuck, I wish. Then I wouldn’t be on the run constantly. Maybe I could actually settle down, run a gambling ring or something.” A soft grin pulls at her lips. “I like you Loki.” 

Loki smiles at the woman in front of him. Someone stubborn and possibly noticed his attempt at mental intrusion and stopped him? A wonderful match. “I suppose you aren’t that bad yourself.”

She scrunches her face in amusement. “We should be landing in a few hours. Gotta switch out the power source and maybe we can have some fun while we are at it… actually I will have some fun while we are at. You on the other hand, well I don’t know how you have fun my prince.” 

—

Loki hadn’t expected an ex-princess to land them somewhere so dirty and surprisingly cold. But Ashira just hops off the ship with a coat she grabbed from under her window seat bed, her hair in an entirely different braid than literally ten minutes before, and starts walking towards the city like it’s nothing. 

Like she hadn’t just landed them on a dark, dirty, cold, barren, waste dump of a planet. 

Ashira stops about forty feet out when she realizes Loki hasn’t followed, turning quickly on her toes. 

“You coming or not?” She shouts. 

Loki looks down at the disgusting frost and snow. If there is one thing Jotunheim had going for it, it wasn’t dirty. 

“A moment, please.” 

The runaway huffs. They only have so long til someone will have a track on her ship, and even less time once they get in the city because it’s likely someone will recognize her through their drunken haze. 

Loki braces himself. This woman was kind enough to take him on when she could have left him there as she knew nothing about it and even accused him of being after her. He can stay a few hours on an absolutely disgusting planet with her. He can do it. 

He steps off the ship and onto the too crunchy icy snow. The sound of the door shutting tightly behind him lets him know there is no turning back now, unless of course he wants to just sit outside while she goes to town. So he walks forward towards Ashira with a grimace on his face. 

“Don’t like the cold?” She teases. 

Loki ignores her; he continues his walk, shoving past her to continue to the city. Of course he isn’t fond of the cold after what happened literally four days ago. But for it to also be this… this insulting? He doesn’t want to talk about it. 

Ashira watches with a raised eyebrow. 

“Someone is grumpy.”

She seamlessly catches up with him despite him being taller with longer legs, sliding beside him with ease. He’s surprised at the ease in which she walks beside him since he is by no means slowly doing for her. No labored breath, no increased exertion, nothing from what he can tell. 

It’s a silent ten minute walk to the city. Ashira isn’t concerned with his possible questions and Loki hasn’t bothered to ask any yet. He is partially distracted by the snow: how harshly it falls, how heavily it hits the ground, how unnatural this particular type seems. In fact, the cold feels wrong as well to him. It could be entirely possible that it is due to the revelations of a few days ago, he admits, but something else about the air feels wrong. 

As soon as their boots hit the actual city streets, Loki is instantly brought back to the reality in front of them. 

“Where is this precisely?” Loki grimaces as a group of dirty, drunk creatures stumble passed them. 

“Contraxia!” Ashira bumps into him playfully. “Place to get drunk, get laid and steal from people by hustling the hell out of every game.”

“Hustling?”

“Like pretending to be really bad at something then at the last minute beating the shit out of them at whatever game. I’m amazing at it. Come on, I’ll show you.”

The ex-princess grabs the prince’s right hand in her left, dragging him quickly towards one of the many, many establishments with a flashy, bizarre sign advertising something just slightly nefarious with more than enough drunk people moving in and out. She pulls him sharply towards a staircase between two of the buildings. More than a little nefarious. 

The staircase is entirely dark, steep and slippery and she walks much faster than he. Without her grip he honestly would have fallen at this point (not that he will ever admit that). At a sharp right, he trips. Ashira tugs him upright as she continues to ascend quickly and he barely lands on his feet in order to keep with her pace. 

His eyes notice a light not too far off once he is balanced. Why anyone would put the light so impossible high and leave the rest of the journey dark and dangerous is beyond him. 

And about a minute later they reach that light. A well-lit, golden door stands before them, complete with a perfectly hand written sign, placed just below Loki’s eye-height reading: “Master Zwell’s Gamehouse”. It is guarded by a single guard, faceless due to the mask, who as far as Loki knows, doesn’t even spare them a glance. 

The ex-princess slowly pushes open the door. The inside is all white marble and golden accents and very, very well polished. People and creatures sit at various tables playing games he has never seen in suit styles he has never seen. Given the circumstances of the planet Loki expected another shady place with a randomly nice door. 

“Come on,” Ashira says, tugging on his hand lightly. 

She now leads him towards a side room to the right of them both where she releases his hand to shed her jacket. Clearly he wasn’t paying attention early because the oil-muddied clothes she was wearing before they got off are gone and are replaced with some of the most beautiful gold and white and silver dress armor he has ever seen. 

In its essence it is a fortified white bodysuit with gold threaded designs throughout, extra silver detailing along the abdomen and where a slight v is cut out by the neck paired with sleek white boots with silver straps. The belt around the hips makes it clear that a sword and several daggers (and maybe a gun or two) could be sat there, but instead Ashira has left them empty, save a few pouches she has strung into them. Loki also notices a few places along the legs, barely noticeable to anyone with a keen eye, where blades likely sit. The outfit feels incomplete to him, so it is likely there is a cape meant to be with it. 

“When did you change?” He asks. 

Ashira looks up at him, sliding her jacket onto one of the many hangers. “I was gone for nearly forty minutes before we landed. I had time to change and redo my hair. Take off your jacket, unless it’s part of your,” she pauses, gesturing to him, “ensemble.”

He looks down at himself only to realize he did indeed conjure himself up a fur coat earlier that he does not need to be wearing. Loki quickly sheds it and hangs it besides hers. 

“Now c’mon, I have money to schmooze.” 

Back out the way they came in and past four guards is the desk where Ashira stops. She digs into one of the pouches attached to her belt, leaving Loki free to look about again. He always need to take in as much information as possible. 

The first thing he notices is the number of wandering eyes now directed towards them. No, not them, her, as she keeps her back turned to the entire room. While Loki isn’t entirely opposed to checking someone out, he knows very well that his mother would yell at him for hours if he were so rude as to do so in such a way. 

Ashira flips open her credit pass at the woman in charge of exchanges. This particular one is new, young, and uncomfortable in her white dress. 

“Deal in for 30,000. Is there a spot open for Poker?”

The bored, blue haired, green eyed, pink skinned woman taps her machine against the pass. “Table 6 has a spot open.” Her eyes flit over Ashira’s shoulder to Loki. “Is he playing?”

“No.”

“Alright.” 

Ashira slides the chips off the desk after placing her pass back in the belt pocket. She knows where all the tables in this particular establishment are since none of the Ravagers ever frequent it and a lot of the gangs don’t either because they are always too dirty and underdressed. And the best part of it? Foreign leaders and diplomats come without their spouses knowledge to get laid with one of those weird love bots and gamble. They spill secrets everywhere. 

Loki now notes the sheer number of men and who he presumes are men playing with women or robotic women sitting on their laps or hanging off their arms as they walk through the grand room. Guards litter the perimeter of the room, faceless and armed. And yet here Ashira is, a short and universally wanted woman in a skin tight suit, waltzing into the room like it’s nothing. 

To her, practically everything seems like it’s nothing. At least from the outside. 

Table 6 conveniently has one spot but two chairs available. Ashira sits down with ease, placing her chips towards the edge of the table and waits a moment for to be able to be dealt in. Loki follows her pattern, sitting in the chair that is to the left but also slightly behind her, still taking in all the norms and customs. 

The ex-princess turns over her shoulder, looking Loki up and down a moment before stopping at his eyes. “As you’ve noticed, it’s mostly men with female escorts and whores around here. I’m not asking you act as my whore but at least pretend to be my friend in here, like we are legitimately traveling together so people don’t think I’ve stolen you and try to arrest me,” she whispers. “They don’t care what the other men do. They do care what women do who aren’t their whores.” 

Loki glances past her at a few of the men at the table they are at. Clearly dignitaries of some form, hiding habits from people back home. Powerful. 

“Alright,” he whispers back. 

“Sweetheart, you playing?” A man sneers. 

Loki catches the look of pure disgust and frustration on Ashira’s face before it melts into one of the most amazing smoldering smiles he has ever seen. 

“Figure I’d try my luck tonight.”

The prince tries not to change his facial expression at the sound of her voice saying that. It’s smooth, elegant, seductive and 100% unlike anything she has said within the past three days. He knows it is unnatural but she makes it sound like that’s just how here voice is. 

Add that to the list: 6) A master of deceit. 

For the next half hour or so, Loki watches in silence. Card games are rarely ever played on Asgard and the ones that are do not function like the one laid out before him. So he watches carefully as people slide their bets to the center or remove them just as quickly; the way people watch other’s eyes and hands and even other’s escorts for tells of lying or tells of a good hand; he notes the way Ashira lets herself lose a few times, pouting gently at the men at the table before winning a round with large wagers sitting in the center, despite the game being luck and lying. 

Loki leans over Ashira’s shoulder, lips resting gently near her ear. “At this game it is just lying basically, no?”

She tilts her head in towards him, facade still on her face. “Basically, wanna give it a try?”

“Sure.” 

“I’ll tap out and get us some drinks, you play this round.” She tilts her head back to the group, her face still as gently seductive as before. “I’m going to let my friend give it a try, you think he’s as lucky as I am?”

—

Slightly tipsy, several different types of games, and many credits later, Ashira and Loki are back on the actual streets of Contraxia. They are quieter now - most people gone to bed or crawled into a shop now that morning nears. Not that anyone can really tell when morning is on this planet. 

But it’s near silent. The snow always helps absorb sound but less people is a plus. 

“I believe this is the most fun I’ve had in quite some time.” 

“I’m glad. And you helped me win twice the amount I normally do so I am going to get not only more food and other stuff but a few extra stabilizing units for the power source so hopefully I don’t have to replace it every few days.” She turns the corner and away from the ship. “Will you be staying here or you wanna come back on the run with me?”

“Well…” Loki pulls his hands behind his back and inhales. “I don’t think this planet particularly suits me and you are good company.”

“Good company?” Loki laughs at her wriggling eyebrows. “I’m glad.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“Let us shop and then we shall go, my liege.”

Taglist:

@tarynkauai

[myxcenterxstage]

Meta: Priscilla's Motivation in Survival Mode ... and a whole lotta analysis

Author’s Note: This meta is primarily focused on v: Sail On, but can also reflect her character motivation in other verses.

TLDR; just jump to part 3 for the survival mode motivation stuff. But parts 1 & 2 help it make more impactful sense.

Part 1: A Character Analysis Pre-Franklin Expedition

So, let’s first take a quick look at Priscilla’s “Prologue” - her life growing up under the guardianship of her Uncle Charles Kimbleton.

Priscilla’s personality is slightly different in her verse v: Sail On. SLIGHTLY. She’s still her kind, buoyant and quirky self, but she’s also a lot more badass. She’s not afraid to get her hands dirty and isn’t interested in her debutante ceremony or who she’s going to marry. Nope. In this verse, Priscilla’s free-spirited “Wild Child” side is more prominent with her insatiable sense of wanderlust, wanting nothing more than to indulge her obsession with exploring the world as her Uncle Charles’ second-in-command and record their discoveries as a Natural Historian.

She imagines herself as the heroine of her own story she’s going to write about someday, or at least tag along for a grand adventure with like-minded people until she can accomplish that.

Besides v: Sail On being a great high seas & survival story, I like to think it has an underlying coming of age aspect where Priscilla comes into her own, because, granted, she’s a mess of contradictions.  

She’s afraid of commitment and marriage… but she’s a hopeless romantic.

She’s a bit of a rebel to Victorian stereotypes… but she’s so self-conscience of what others perceive of her even if she claims she doesn’t care.

She’s independent… but is so vulnerable and impressionable and wants to be rescued by a hero that’ll sweep her off her feet.

She knows who she is and what she wants… but keeps seeking validation from others.

She’s insightful and a delight to be around and sometimes wiser beyond her years… but is emotionally immature and has a track record of recklessly foolish & impulsive decisions.

She has the courage to stand up to always do the right thing… but when she’s faced with a challenge she runs away from it.

Do you see where I’m getting at?

(I guess you could leave it as she’s a complex character… or I’m still trying to fully grasp her personality as an OC. I’d love some feedback on these ‘contradictions’!)

Part 2: The Aftermath of Uncle Charles’ Disappearance

So, Uncle Charles. He doesn’t physically appear in this verse per se, but boy does he remain an indirect main character.

No matter where in the world they were, Uncle Charles was Priscilla’s ‘home’. He was her bodyguard, her mentor, her storyteller, her shoulder to cry on, and most importantly her conscience to curb her foolishness as she was still growing up. The Kimbleton family isn’t exactly small, but Charles was by far the most genuine. Charles wasn’t just an uncle - he loved and cherished Pris as though she was his own daughter. (Since Charles was a widower who never remarried, I think that’s why Priscilla maybe even learned to cope with grief in this verse surprisingly well all thanks to him too.)

Uncle Charles was certainly one of the biggest influences in Priscilla’s life, and who encouraged her curiosity and scientific obsessions contrary to other relatives who wanted to repress it in favor of her becoming the stereotypical Victorian house-wife.

Unfortunately, Charles was also someone she lost at all too dependable a time. And it was probably a bigger catastrophe than whatever happened to her parents that brought her into Charles’ custody to begin with. Everything that represented her sense of security was ripped away from her, and she was left with a void she didn’t know how to fill.

Even at the urging of her other relatives, she refused to host - or attend - the funeral held in honor of Charles years after his disappearance. Maybe, just maybe, he would come back. Maybe, even against all odds.

But she didn’t know. What was closure? A part of her didn’t even want to believe he was gone.

And now without him, she became an open target of vulnerability.

This also begins a new, very prominent flaw in Priscilla’s character: her strong sense of denial and running away from her problems given the quickest opportunity. Left to her own devices Priscilla tries to hold on to every good thing her Uncle raised her with, all while struggling to cope with loss and fend off her inevitable foolishness.

{{ Insert Backstory & Priscilla’s Scandal Here }}

Part 3: Franklin Expedition Disaster & Survival ::  From glory... to desperation… to reality.

Okay NOW. Finally to the part we’ve all been waiting for!! THIS is what I had the Eureka for earlier that started this whole meta to begin with!!

So, fast forward to Priscilla running away from scandal and boarding the HMS Terror. She feels she struck gold by being able to follow her dream and her “running away from home” paid off. Fast forward again from the new friendships Priscilla makes and secret crushes and buds of platonic cuteness and everything happy in Baffin Bay etc.

Fast forward again to Priscilla hearing Sir John’s announcement about them sailing straight into the ice pack since they’re so ‘close’. Fast forward again through Priscilla’s impression of Sir John unraveling once they’re stuck in the ice.

At that moment, nothing was more terrifying than the great unknown to Priscilla. She had no place to run.

Parts of her personality she didn’t know existed came out after the ships were stuck in that ice:

Bitterness. Anxiousness. Volatility. Fragility. Restlessness. Fear.

Beneath her thin veneer of mandatory bravery and blind desire to wish things could turn for the better was a mess of emotions she was so desperately trying to suppress. Almost overnight she picked up random nervous habits. Outbursts of skittish laughter, speaking her mind out of place, trivial chatter, zoning out. Sporadic enough to not be of concern, but noticeable to those who knew her well. And all the while she had this gnawing sense of jitteriness to always do something amidst constantly feeling so helpless.

As the tragedy continues, she grows quieter - her radiance dimmer. Her optimism that was fueled by denial slowly comes crashing down into the reality of the frightening dark caverns of her own mind. Writhing in bitterness over Sir John’s hubris that sentenced them all to death, she had begun to realize that she too perhaps had made an impulsively reckless mistake to volunteer herself to begin with.

And once the Tuunbaq attacks begun, she quickly realized they had no place to hide either.

So there was only one option left: she had to fight to survive.

And this, my friends, is when the lioness was awoken. While her struggle between the solace of denial (which still fueled her optimism outside of a genuinely happy moment) was ever-present, and her blind wishful thinking might have helped her to not cripple under from the stress… when backed against the wall of brutal truth she was beginning to realize she had no choice but to unavoidably reckon with herself, which was long overdue. Admit their predicament for what it was, admit her decisions and behavior as a runaway was foolish, admit her feelings of lostness in a cruel world, and admit even though she was not strong enough to face London’s gossip of her she never should have acted so rashly with herself in retaliation. (Let alone other things she may or may not have done on the voyage... to be determined)

But at least in this dead end, she wasn’t doomed to navigating it alone.

After losing her only family, she had gained a new one on this expedition. 129 new family members to be exact, regardless of how well or little she knew them. No matter how many lives she grieved each passing week, she wouldn’t have wanted to trade anything to not know those she especially held dear. And collectively they all shared one supportive notion in common: They needed to survive.

And then, after a burdensome night when she had hit an emotional breaking point and poor medicinal side effects induced a fevered outbreak where she was delusionally mistaking Captain Crozier for her Uncle Charles… the following sober morning she came to an unexpected realization.

Call it the beginnings of madness from the lead poisoning, or her desperation to hold on to whatever threads of hope she possibly could, but a new question of ‘what if?’ became her new obsession:

What if Uncle Charles was in fact still alive? Just like them?

Somewhere, someplace - it felt almost tangibly real to her. The years of disappearing from the face of the earth and civilization - and yet still not dead.

Thus, her own independent motivation to survive against all odds in these Arctic conditions emerged. It fueled the promise she made to her new friends that they’d press on. Ignited the motivation lent her by others. She found a new purpose: not for only herself in the end, but for those who mattered to her. 

And if Charles had the strength to survive wherever he was all this time - then she would do the same. And maybe, just maybe if in these years her Uncle returned home - just like Priscilla knew they could eventually, someday - she would want nothing more than to live so she could run into his loving arms once again.

Come what may, she would march on. She wanted to live. To survive. To love. And most of all, she wanted to make sure her new family would too.

[squirenonny]

How you even get people interested your fics, asking for a friend thanks

Aw, man, isn’t that a question for the ages?

So I’m gonna preface this by saying that there’s no magic quick-fix to attract more readers (however much we all wish there were.) Writing for the big ships or posting a fic featuring a popular trope/AU when it’s popular is going to get you more readers than writing niche fics, but chasing trends isn’t going to make you happy and it might even hurt the quality of your work. When you post and whether there was some big fandom or IRL event that drew attention away from the newly published pages (or flooded them, burying your fic under ten pages of Klance week ficlets or whatever) can also play a big role.

Secondly, and I know you’re probably not going to like hearing this, try not to worry too much about numbers like hits/kudos/bookmarks/reviews. They don’t mean as much as you think, and they aren’t a reflection on your skill as a writer or the value of your story. The best thing to do is to find some other way to measure success–maybe it’s how many words you’ve written, maybe it’s whether you stick to a consistent update schedule. Maybe it’s reaching that scene you’ve been dying to write for forever. But make sure it’s something that’s in your control, because depending on the faceless masses for validation sucks, and you deserve better.

Okay, on to some advice for attracting readers.

1. Rework your summary. Confession time: I hate writing summaries. Hate it. I’m already not good with short form and trying to sum up a story in a hundred words or less is even worse. But it’s one of the most important skills for a writer to learn, since it’s your one shot to get people interested enough to click that link. If you’re stuck, here are some suggestions, with examples of how I’ve used them for my own stories.

Pick a (short!) excerpt from your piece. Maybe a brief exchange of dialogue, maybe the opening line, maybe something else. It should be something that doesn’t require context to understand and that makes people want to find out what happens next (or what led up to this moment.) Example:

This psychic—Lance the Lucid, according to the posters, and Keith wasn’t even going to comment on that—was a charlatan, plain and simple, and Keith kind of wanted to punch him. Sure, Lance knew how to put on a show, but Keith doubted there was anything more to the act than charm and dramatic flair.

Pidge sighed, catching Keith’s eyes. “At this point, they’re pretty much our only hope.”

If you’re writing an AU, especially a canon divergence AU, put the focus on what you’re changing. Example:

Shiro used to dream of Earth. That was before the Arena, before Haggar, before he joined the Galra army. At least he has an ally, a Galra officer named Keith. Together they plan to bring down Zarkon’s empire from the inside.

Matt never thought he’d see his family again. Then he crash-lands on Earth and Pidge rescues him from Garrison custody. But his homecoming is short-lived. Now the Holt siblings, along with Lance and Hunk, must find the Voltron lions and free the universe from Galra control.

Or: Galra!Keith, double agent!Shiro, red paladin!Matt, black paladin!Allura, full series AU.

If you’re writing something tropey, or a twist on a cliche, maybe highlight that. Example:

[following a short description of plot] Canonverse Soulmate AU with romantic and platonic soulmates (and some gray areas in between)

Sometimes the simplest thing to do, especially for shorter stories, is to do a one-two punch in your summary. The set-up and the punchline. The scenario and the twist. The status quo and the catastrophe. Think “Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.” Or better yet, the next part of that intro–defining the Avatar and then hitting us with “and then he vanished for a hundred years whoops.” Whatever you do, keep it short. Example:

When Keith was seven years old, he spent a year in La Quinta with a boy named Lance, the best friend he ever had. Ten years later, Lance and Keith reunite at the Garrison–only Keith doesn’t remember who Lance is.

The most important thing to keep in mind is that shorter is (usually) better, but you want to include enough to hook readers’ attention. It’s hard, I know, but keep working at it and it’ll get easier. Seriously–write five completely different summaries for your fic, all under 100 words. Give yourself a 5 or 10 minute limit for each so you don’t agonize too much. Set them aside for a while, then come back and see what works. Or write a list of all the things you’re most excited about in a given piece, cut out any major spoilers, and try to work one or two of the others into your summary.

2. Be strategic about your tags. If you’re posting on AO3, use tags people are going to search. Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, any tropes that feature prominently, any relationships (especially gen ones) that are a major focus. Be wary of overtagging–Shatt shippers, for example, know all too well how common it is to search for Shatt and turn up only Klance fics with a passing mention of Shiro and Matt going on a date. But plenty of people search for specific tags in trying to find new stories. Use that.

Similarly, if you post on Tumblr, use your tags efficiently. The first five tags on a post are the ones that the post will show up in (i.e. if you have a tag tracker or go to tumblr.com/tagged/____) Tumblr’s search looks at the first twenty tags, I believe. So use your first five tags for either the most popular or the most niche aspects of your fic. (i.e. tagging it “klance” will have a larger potential audience, though it’ll get buried pretty quickly; tagging “matt holt” or “shatt” gives you a much smaller potential audience, but one that’s more starved for content so will probably click your link at a higher rate.) Prioritize, and leave your organization tags/tag commentary for after.

3. Your first chapter should pack a punch. This one may be a little harder to put into practice if you have an existing fic you’re trying to drum up interest in, but it’s worth keeping in mind. If your summary and tags get people through the door, your first chapter (in a multichapter fic)/your first few paragraphs (for any fic) is where people decide whether or not this is worth reading. Goals to strive for:

Your first line, or at most your first paragraph, should hook reader’s interest. It should ask an implicit question–what’s happening? How did we get here?

(the equivalent of) Your first page (a couple hundred words, tops) should establish the situation and forward momentum. Diving straight into action with no context can be confusing, but lingering too long on exposition can make people tune out before they get to the good part. I’ve heard it said that the first 250 words should establish three things: character, context, and motive. Who are we focused on, what’s happening right now, and why does it matter? There are exceptions to every rule, of course, but make sure you know why you’re deviating if you decide to do so.

Your first chapter (assuming you have more than one) should leave people wanting more. Don’t leave them in the middle of the set-up, or they may not be motivated to continue. But don’t give them everything they need to see where this is going, or they won’t bother waiting to find out.

**Update: There’s now a follow-up post talking a little bit more about how to start a story, with examples!**

4. Persistence is key. Out of all the advice I can give you, this one’s going to be the hardest to follow, I’m sure. It can feel like you’re throwing words at a void and getting nothing back. Sometimes you have a real slow start. Sometimes you’re writing self-induldgent rarepare stuff, and it seems like you and two other people are the only ones who ship it–and those other two never comment.

The thing is, writing fic (especially as a newcomer or writing niche fic) is like playing Marco Polo at a death metal concert. Not only are you shouting into a sea of noise, but you’re also trying to find the relative handful of people who are going to answer. But here’s the thing: if you yell “Marco” once and get no response, then go home, you’ll never find those other people. If you keep yelling–maybe stay in one spot and yell over and over, maybe wander around calling out every so often–you’ll find someone, and then you’ll find someone else, and then maybe someone else will start shouting with you and find three more people. It starts slow, but it builds momentum.

In terms of fic, though, what does that mean? It means keep writing. Maybe keep hammering away at this one fic–excellent if it’s something you’re excited about, something you need to write no matter what. You keep putting it out there and you’ll start to beat back the wave of random chance that conspires to bury your fic because of weird posting times or an onslaught from a fandom event.

Maybe write a bunch of shorter fics, participate in bangs and exchanges and other events. You might hook readers with your Klance soulmate AU that you did for a secret santa, then tempt them into trying your other stuff (true story.) You might make friends by chatting in a big bang’s discord, and they can help you write more attention-grabbing summaries, or can signal boost on Tumblr. (Or just be that one person who stans your writing and keeps you motivated through low hit counts on AO3.) Or you might just hit a whole bunch of people’s rarepair/nich buttons and start building a following that way.

Or maybe it means going a little more off the rails. Try a different fandom. Write original fiction. Write an 80k Marauders-at-Hogwarts fic for yourself, edit it, and only then start posting a chapter a week so you can grow your reader base without the low number of comments chipping away at your motivation because joke’s on you, hit counter. I already have the next chapter done. And the one after that, and all of them, so they’re still coming even if no one’s reading. ha-ha! (Also a true story.)

Look, the point is, building a reader base is hard, and it’s frustrating, and a lot if it is based on luck and fandom trends, and you’re always going to want to get caught up in the numbers. Even once you have readers, you might get frustrated because the tropey shipfic with a shoddy plot that you BS’d your way through has ten times as much love as the lovingly crafted, well-plotted AU that you’ve poured literally thousands of hours into. Because writers are all starved for feedback, and with the exception of people lucky enough (or unlucky enough) to hit a fandom sweet spot and get shot straight into the realms of That One Fic Everyone Knows About–with the exception of those freak accidents of fate, the people who have sizable followings are almost always people who just plain love to write and do it regardless of what anyone else says or does.

So don’t write for the readers. Write for yourself first, and love what you write. Write stories that need to be told. Stories you can’t bear not to tell–because when you care that much about a story, it shows, and when the right people find your story, they’re going to love that you love it. Trust me. The right people are out there. You just have to keep shouting until you find them.

[little-forget-me-not]

Oh man! I just found out about a term (non-official but apparently one many people identify with) called “depression attack”.

And it’s really accurate to what I’m familiar with :0

Quoted from this reddit thread:

“My life has always been plagued with depression and anxiety but on most days I feel normal. Normal for me means I still have that feeling of emptiness but I’m functional. But on some days, something triggers that attack. Like maybe people getting on my nerves too much or that feeling that nothing is going right. I think having no control over my life was what triggered my depression in the first place. When I’m somewhat reminded of that I sometimes spiral into that depressive black hole.

The heavy feeling lasts for a couple days for me (not continuously but on and off) though. I usually become moody and I don’t want anything to do with people. And I cry a lot when I’m in my room alone.”

-

“I totally understand this. I will literally be fine one minute and then suddenly…“oh god…I’m going to be alone forever…she never loved me…I’ll never be successful…I’m going to fail all my exams and everything is going to go horrible”. And it’s the worst. It’s the worst feeling in the world because all I can think about is my impending doom and as soon as it happens it’s all I can think about and it’s impossible to get off my mind.

It happens when I’m alone, going to sleep, or if I’m in public with other people and it goes quiet and it’s just suddenly me alone with my thoughts, amongst other times.”

- 

“Same here. I will get hit with random waves of overwhelming sadness the ebb and flow and then crash back into me again but I will spend the whole day crying at my desk over everything and nothing. It’s only started recently and it took me a while to figure out what was going on because the feelings aren’t like my usual panic attacks”

- 

"I can relate. Only recently has it gotten less and less debilitating but when my random episodes happen I shut down. Unable to speak properly or feel any shred of happiness at all. One thing I found important is to find your triggers. Mine happen not necessarily when I’m alone, but when I find something that makes me realize I’m alone. It could be a picture, it could be a song, or it could even be an observation of a couple on the bus. It’s the little things that bug the hell out of me. One minute I’ll be happy and worry-free, and the next minute I’ll hit rock bottom and lose control.

I feel for ya OP. I do. Because this hell is anything but fun.”

-

It’s what I call low tide. A little understated maybe but...haha I’m kinda relieved there’s a coined term for this in the community. My “depression attacks” tend to happen on Sunday where the desolation, acute loneliness and emptiness is buffed and at max power, taking me out like a freakin’ supereffective move. The suicidal ideation and fear is so strong then. It’s on Sundays I need distractions or I’ll spiral and fray. 

Depression sucks. Suck my dick!!!

One of the coping mechanisms I have is to write about how it’s going, and how I feel, refusing to repress, suppress or deny myself. Venting, essentially. During my high tides I’m usually off doing stuff that makes me happy instead of hanging around tumblr. ...which probably gives the illusion I’m sad all the time since my blog unfortunately ends up being my venting ground when things get bad. And even then I feel bad about it.

It’s weird how depression exists as this empty void that sucks life out of you. I can both be elated and depressed in the same hour. Sobs it’s ugly. No one likes depression or depressed people. It just sounds miserable and unfun and the stigma that comes with it makes me struggle to hide it from others to appear neurotypically normal. 

Sobs but I’m not “normal” am I. 

There’s no shame to that. 

Yet I do feel the shame if I am honest with myself. Ashamed and inadequate and…unsafe. I don’t feel safe in society and with one of my biggest fears being misrepresented and misunderstood, having clinical depression as a shackle constantly paints you wrong. It’s like…desperately and continuously wrestling with a venomous snake while trying to come off as fun and happy, optimistic and productive 24/7. Which is really hard to do when you have this stupid parasite omggoshhhhh. Not that it’s unmanageable...! But sometimes it is.

The absolute worst is to be accused for being lazy when you’re trying all you can to just hold on and ride it out. On my end, it sure doesn’t feel great to do all you can to hang on to driftwood, treading water and being battered by wave after wave without end, cramping up, blistered and sunburnt and encircled by sharks, barely able to breathe and not wanting to withstand it at times...and having to watch others sailing past you without a care in the world, doing things and having fun and achieving things that you wish you could do. Oh BOY do you want to do that, but you’re in the water and they’re not, and then some asshat in a boat spits on you and calls you lazy before speeding off and breaking your driftwood. IT’S NOT FUN. And it’s not fair. 

It’s hard not to hate it sometimes.

Sometimes you try so hard...but you are overwhelmed anyway. Or unlucky. Sometimes you get on a boat, but a storm hits and throws you over. Or your boat crashes. Or has a leak. Or someone comes in and steals your boat. 

What I’m trying to say is that this stupid depression thing is like being forced to play a game you didn’t even want to play stuck on an Insanely Hard mode. Not that others don’t struggle in life too, but the playing field is just...not leveled out yknow? Everyone starts on different playing fields and sometimes it’s...so disparate. I try so hard. I’m proud of that. But I’m also aware how many people don’t see it. While that shouldn’t bother me, it does because it ends up affecting how people respond to me or misinterpreting or just...yknow, you lose out.

Gosh, I had someone so dear to me once, taking my MI personally and somehow faulting me for them. Which is so not cool, honestly. I don’t need “help” in the sense where I want people to “fix” me. No one can do that and I would never demand that from others. All I ask is for patience and understanding and an openness to see me as I am, free of judgement and criticism. It’s what creates a safe space for me. For this, I am immensely and intensely grateful for my bff who has been with me even before this thing was a thing.

I honestly don’t ask for that much.

But yeah, society is...very rough and quite unforgiving at times. The stigma of mental illnesses in general is a disgusting and terrifying one and I hate living it. Hate having to explain myself. Hate being made to feel weak when I feel it enough on my own already. GOSH GUYS.

My heart goes out to the people in the thread ;___; it’s...gosh. It’s not fun. C’mon who doesn’t want to be able to function on a daily basis. 

The thread made me realise something that seems obvious but was something that I apparently didn’t think about: triggers

It’s important to identify triggers so one can try to avoid it and whatnot. Of course it’s easier said than done HNGH. This is why I try to prepare food on Saturday so I can feed myself on Sunday when I am suddenly just unable to function.

Recently it’s been...a lot harder. More stuff set off these “attacks”. ...especially after them. ...and all the future job shit worries...no wonder it got worse. I have so many more subconscious triggers now. 

Anyway you have to admit, it’s pretty cool how I can wrestle with a depression-python the size of a train everyday and still genuinely laugh and give thanks to the little things in the world and get out of bed, feed myself and bathe myself and go to work and get work done and sometimes even write or draw and make constant attempts to socialise. Heck, I can make myself do the laundry too. Or even make a resume aaaaand okay I haven’t gotten to the job finding part yet but...it’s something! It’s something. ...and it’s something society takes for granted. I don’t think I should be ostracized and be mistreated when I get overwhelmed sometimes.

OK I just really wanted to talk about this or smth. peace...!