#there are a lot of more beautiful artworks in that folder

[lafaiette]

Matt Rhodes' depiction of the "Crestwood scene" ⬆️

Even though it's included in his Trespasser works, I believe it's supposed to depict the Crestwood romance scene - you can see Solas' hand near Lavellan's face, and the filename is "tattoogrove".

... That, or they played with the idea of Solas bringing Lavellan back to Crestwood during the events of Trespasser.

Rhodes also made this ⬆️

The filename says "comewithme" - Solas asking Lavellan to join him, instead of refusing her help.

I'm sure it's a choice all we solasmancers would have chosen, had we been given the opportunity (how many of us picked the "I agree with your goals/Let me help you, Solas" option at the speed of light?), but I'm also really glad he always refused to let her join him - it makes much more sense for his character and their love. He loves her too much to let her become a monster 😭

[k-hippie]

MAY : SIMS 3 & SIMS 4 : WHAT'S COMING UP :)

Let's begin with the Sims 4 ... April has been a bit disappointing I suppose, even we worked hard on numerous projects.

First, a flash and silent update for the Vertical Impasto Artworks. A little something in the interior frame of the painting that wasn't good enough : correction has been made and you can download again :)

Almost of our time has been about the k-707 Nature Mod ;) There are great satisfactions but also big frustrations ... We probably lost more braincells that it was needed. BUT … we have 95% of those damn trees covered.

We are stuck on some trees ( 5, maybe 6 ) and we search and search and search again some informations related on vertex paint which matter a lot since both colorimetry and rustle are enclosed in it. But we are still unable to extract the maxis information into the leaves and so, modify the trees from the deep in a way that is still ok for the game ...

Release a tree or a plant of 30k polygons only for the glitch and the fame is not at all our style. What is beautiful is not always suitable ;) and sometimes, what it seems to be beautiful in a picture is not not at all inside our favorite games :D

But let's talk about the Sims 3 now :) and more pleasant news ! At first, the big news : a NEW S3 WORLD is coming :) soon soon soon !

Shetland Harbour ... An island turned to the sea but filled with sheep. A good place to have whatever life you want for your lovely ( or not ) Sims ;) Shetland Harbour is a fishing town of course but not only. There's a true downtown and lot of places. And sheeps. A medium/large world, the first island we create since Lost Cove.

And for the first time, it won't be based on an EA known world ;)

But we'll talk much more about it in the coming weeks ;)

Then, will come quite quickly 3 Worlds UPDATES with significant changes inside, and various fixes that were long overdue :) Also, all community lots and some residential will be released too.

Oaksoak Hollow - Eureka Valley - Lost Cove

All 3 will come with their ANTS, CC, and Lots in separate folders ...

In addition, we are AT LAST working on some Sims 3 stuff and conversions, mainly build stuff and artworks ( for now ) :) 88 Patterns will be released quite soon, as soon as updates will be made on our website ( tech-hippie.com/sims3-lounge/ ) by my co-team partner :)

The Dark Terracotta roof and the Wood Skandi walls ( in both .sims3pack and .package ) will be released with Shetland Harbour.

That's it, that's all and that's a lot of work :D Happy May everyone !

xoxo

\o/ blackgryffin

...

[painted-bees]

May I make a request ( and this is a huge one I know) is it possible you could tag your drawings with your oc names? I'm getting really into your work, but as you're talking about them and answering asks about them, I scroll back and there's just a lot of different things to wade through, it would be super helpful if I could just zip to their tags. You don't have to answer or anything. I think it would help more than myself to get a easier experience too. I love your work, you have a beautiful style <3 Have a good one!

I can certainly start doing that, going forward! I shall try my best to remember! Once I get time, I can slowly go back and retroactively apply it as well. In the meantime, the Hi-Note masterpost has a bunch of entries sorted by character: https://www.tumblr.com/painted-bees/722464162870067200/cortes-blorblos-masterpost?source=share and their respective Toyhouse pages contain all their character-specific artwork as well!: https://toyhou.se/painted-bees/characters/folder:4367913

[borninwinter81]

You ever get the feeling that sometimes the universe thinks the time is right for a specific project?

Earlier this week, heavily inspired both by @rattusrattus3 and their collage box youtube tutorial, and the gorgeous corvid boxes posted by @korva-the-raven, I decided to make something similar myself. THE DAY AFTER that decision was made I found this wooden chocolate box in a charity shop for £1.99. It could not be more perfect for purpose.

I had been thinking the collage part would be difficult as I "don't really keep interesting bits of paper." As it turns out, the hell I don't.

That same evening I found this stash in my old art folder. I thought all I had in there were a couple of greetings cards.

Of particular use were the William Blake and Exploring the Gothic art exhibition guides. These are both really high quality prints and contain some gorgeous artwork. Thankfully I have a paper guillotine so I could cut out the pictures really neatly.

This is what I ended up with. I could make several boxes just from these!

Korva's boxes have individual compartments made out of matchboxes which are also decorated. I don't have any matchboxes, but then I recalled that I know how to make an origami box - I had a friend in school who was Japanese and her mother taught me. So, what if I was able to find some nice paper and make small boxes to go inside? Again, the universe provided...

These are from a pad of scrapbooking paper, 24 double sided sheets, 30x30cm (12x12 inches) for £4. Very thick and high quality and excellent for making sturdy boxes that are fit for this purpose. I didn't love all of it but these designs are beautiful, and I will have more than enough for this project and tons left for the future 😁

I thought to save it looking too "busy" I would just use one plain colour and one floral. Since the internal boxes need to be quite small I thought a smaller print would work best, and paired that with a plain purple. I used the guillotine again to cut the paper into squares that were the right size (after a trial run with some cartridge paper to make sure they would fit) and...

This box is super easy to do, probably why I still remember how to make it after being taught at the age of 5! Here's a tutorial.

Meanwhile the outer box got a couple of coats of black acrylic paint.

Then it was time to decide how to arrange my collage pieces. I quickly came up with this for the inside (Edgar Allan Poe themed, the large picture is an illustration to "The Raven" which is super appropriate for a corvid box, and the small one in the top right has lines from the poem "Lenore"). I'm still unsure about whether I will also do the base as its going to be covered most of the time anyway. I may just line it with more of the floral paper.

The outside was harder, but I've gone with some anatomical drawings, plus a couple of space-fillers which look pretty.

The edges are a little narrow so I'm not going to collage those for now, but I might see if any of the charms from my shiny things box would look good glued onto the sides instead.

Unfortunately I can't finish it just yet, as the only thing I haven't been able to get is modge podge - every shop I went into said "we used to have that but don't stock it anymore". So I ordered some online and I should have it within a few days.

Then all I'll need to do is decide how I want to fill it, I have lots of items to choose from 😁

Huge thanks to those who inspired this, it has been a project that I've absolutely loved, and I'm going to be on the lookout for more nice boxes so I can make another, I still have plenty of supplies!

[porcelainmortal]

📚🐚🎨

📚 what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? 

A running tally of the money I've won from online gambling. 😂 They give you free credits to play but if you win, the money is real. I've been doing pretty well... 😏

🐚 do you like or dislike surprises?

I love good surprises! Unfortunately, I've had more than my share of bad surprises, so I'll happily pass on those. But surprise me with a gift or a party or something I'll enjoy? I'm all about that.

🎨 link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

OMG this feels impossible! A lot of my favorite ones come from @marz-rm's Patreon - and are NSFW or Tumblr - which means I can't link them here. (But seriously, if you love firstprince, you should sign up - it's well worth it.) A special shoutout to the full versions of these two. I'll also share one of the PG-rated ones that I think about all the time. It's @shirmirart's Notebook artwork. I'm always there, just a little bit. But there is a crazy number of talented artists whose work fills up the RWRB folder on my laptop, so these are just a drop in the bucket. Mostly, I love fan art that displays emotion. As much as I enjoy something that's beautiful or sexy, if the feelings aren't practically jumping off the screen, I'm not really interested.

Writer's Truth or Dare Ask Game

[shanaraharlyah]

Hey, so great to see you take part! I look forward to learning more about your writing! I was wondering if you could tell me a bit more about the following (sorry, I'm greedy lol)

A Life Together (Hogwarts Legacy)

DAI Trespasser for Kartaelin Lavellan/Dorian Pavus

An Elven Tale from your original fic

Thank you!!

Thank you for asking, Cat! 😘 Let me just say I really only started writing more than a couple sentences for artwork descriptions just before and during the pandemic and my first of these was the Dorian/Kartaelin Trespasser fic. I sent it to a friend who told me she thought it was really good and very in character so I continued and have a whole docs folder full of WIPs now. So I'll start with that one.

DAI Trespasser

(Kartaelin Lavellen/Dorian Pavus)

I got really attached to these two on my fourth playthrough of Inquisition. Kartaelin is one of my OCs from the Elven Tale brought over to Dragon Age and had a similar rough go regarding his attraction to men, so I really just wanted both of them to be happy. And Trespasser is rough. I really wanted to do something with the in between scenes. Things we don't see in the game. So this part takes place directly after meeting Solas, Dorian finding him passed out and missing an arm. I have actually posted most of this one along with the artworks I wrote it for here if you'd like to read it - Never Gonna Be Alone. The incomplete/unposted portion involves the trek back, being seen by a healer and the council being postponed again for him to begin to heal.

A Life Together

(Hellendil/Sebastian Sallow)

This one is partially in response to some gorgeous artwork and headcanons I've seen in the Hogwarts Legacy fandom of Sebastian growing up and growing a beard or not because of trauma triggers. It takes place 10 years after the events of the game. Their friendship and budding relationship survived everything they went through during 5th year. The two have grown up, have jobs at the ministry and are living together. The wizarding world is more accepting of same sex relationships than the Victorian muggle world so they've settled in Hogsmeade. It's softness, a little spice and a lot of hurt/comfort around a shared traumatic experience. I'll share the first two paragraphs below the cut.

The early morning sun shone into the second floor bedroom through partially closed curtains.  Dust motes danced in the air as it crept across the room to light the forms of the entangled pair sleeping there.  As it traversed the warm tan skin of Hellendil, he began to stir, cuddling up closer to Sebastian to enjoy their shared warmth and deny his wakefulness for just a moment longer.  It was a rare day that he awoke before his partner, so he decided to take advantage of it.  He let out a soft sigh and raised his head, pushing his long hair back from his face in order to watch the sleeping brunet.   Sebastian's skin was fair but slightly flushed around his nose and cheeks and he was covered from head to toe with freckles.  Every now and then his breath caught in a snore and he seemed on the verge of waking.  He'd thinned out somewhat since their school days, more in the face than elsewhere.  Hellendil appreciated the extra softness of his lover's body.  A marked contrast to his own lithe frame, he found it great for cuddling and had taken to sleeping with his head resting on his chest, in spite of being the taller of the two.  An admiring smile appeared on his face as he observed him.  "Beautiful,"  he whispered.

An Elven Tale

There's really very little of this written yet just a couple of scenes in this document and the other so far. The rest is scattered thoughts, sketches and the beginnings of an outline. It follows Sarovanya and Tarwen as they begin to find their place in the world. Saro has always loved Tarwen, but his love is unrequited. She's known him since they were both very young and his exhibitionist ways and desire to be the center of attention are big turn offs, even if he's doing some of it for her. When they leave their home land to grow their skills, Tarwen meets a quiet and kind dark elf with whom she grows close. But there's a secret darkness lurking under the surface that he hides and tries to keep at bay.

Here is a little snippet from one of the scenes and the link to the render that goes with it.

“What’s wrong!?” she gasped as she began to move toward him.

“Leave, Tarwen,” the dark elf replied, cringing in pain.

“But…!”

“Get away from me!” he snapped, lashing out and upsetting the table in the room they had restored together.

Torn between worry for Morcundu’s ailment and fear for her own life, Tarwen stepped back with tears welling in her eyes. A flash of his… inhuman eyes set her fleeing into the forest. Her thoughts and surroundings were a blur as she ran, the rain stinging her face and mixing with tears. From somewhere nearby, she heard a familiar and welcome voice calling her name. Instinctively she turned toward the voice and within a few moments had crashed into the open arms of Sarovanya. She clung to his vest, tears streaming down her face, as he enveloped her in his protective arms.

Sarovanya relished the intimate moment, but worry soon washed over his handsome face. Taking her by the shoulders, he queried, “Are you okay? …Did he hurt you?” Tarwen shook her head in reply. Realizing his previous questions were a bit agitated, he took a deep breath and asked more gently, “What happened, Tarwen?”

Thank you again for asking about these! I haven't shared much about them before. ☺️

Throwing the link to the ask game in case anyone wants to send more!

[essiekuko]

HELP WHY DOES APPLE MUSIC HAVE TO ABSOLUTELY OVERLOAD AN ENTIRE FOLDER WITH EVERYTHING IN IT??

i looked at the artworks folder and it was insane how much was in it

i genuinely dont want that folder ever again, its probably gonna make my laptop explode

but i also love looking at all the artwork

this isn't even half of everything that was in it

this game is for big backs, foodies and pro-4n4s <33

its so useful for curbing hvng3r. i used to think playing food games did nothing to curb it but it kinda lowkey does. just think of it as a reward, in a way, if food is a reward to u. a reward for f4st1ng as long as u do. im 2 hrs away from hitting 24h in the f4st and im so sooo tempted to 3at, but i'm trying everything to ignore the feeling. so im playing the tea time buffet on roblox!!

and yes, when the guacamole beef burger from carl's jr ad played on tv, a big ahh growl filled the entire room

slaying, blood still on the weapon

i love this genre of images sm. like those photoshop ones <3

this is what makes us girls...and the girlblog is so useful for avoiding talking about ur feelings and ur eyes watering in public!! ^^

trying to get just like her fr xx

can confirm 💗

awwhh i cant wait to be a retired girlblogger

november was probably wildest month of the year. mental disorders spiraling, i started sh for the first time, sm new short-lived obsessions, lots of new music, big final exams, strengthened relationships....this is what i call 'pre-christmas sadness' where u experience the worst ever all in one month so that christmas can be ur big break

i love these images, and i relate to everything, if only ppl made some photos like it replacing spotify (i have personal beef with spotify) with soundcloud or apple music (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

my personal beef with spotify, hmmm, where should i start. i started collecting all my music in one big playlist in 2020 and ofc 2020 was a very conflicting year of my life. start of teenage era and lockdowns. i was so obsessed with things, and usually when i have obsessions (i still do) they're short-lived and after they die out, i refuse to look back at them. and lockdown gave me lots of time to obsess and no time to let it die down. and since i was so big on spotify in 2020 i dont want to look back at it. and it wasnt just 2020. 2 close friends i lost, each a year after the other, used to share their spotify playlists with me. and also, like, spotify has gotten so stingy nowadays, u can't play like 1/2 a song without double ads rolling in. and it's so confusing to navigate actually, thats part of the reason why i only kept one playlist. i also only keep 1 playlist cause thats just how i like it lol.

i love lizzy grant sm, she gives me an outlet for all my emotions and helps me to see the bright side of things when i romanticise the melancholy!!

im going to admit i used to not be so keen on sabrina carpenter initally when she blew up viral this year. i always remembered her as that purely authentic, original, true to herself disney star. and i have a hard time liking the disney-made stars (miley cyrus is an exception, bc she managed to distance herself from disney) bc it feels like they're just handed the success on a silver platter what with disney's incredible influence in hollywood. but sabrina has become more endearing lately, and im rlly loving her little 50s-60s babydoll starlet theme. and yk how i feel abt that, given im a diehard lizzy grant fangirl. so now i rlly do see the originality and authenticity of her image, and i found out she'd been working to be noticed in the music industry for 10 years now. its admirable and relatable, the struggle for success. it humanizes her more, apart from being promised success since she signed with disney from the very begininng. now i just dont focus too much on what goes on behind the scenes, and learn to appreciate these artists and their themes/images, as something to just find beautiful

[talesfromthebacklog]

Tales From The Frontlog: Persona 3: Reload

10/10

It’s titles like Persona that make me go: “God damn, anime is so fucking cool.”

These are people who KNEW what they were doing when working on this remake. My only previous experience with Persona 3 was with Persona 3 Portable. And it shouldn’t be shocking that while good it didn’t have the same impact as Reload did. (Though I did still pick up P3P on Switch through Limited Run! As that was likely the cheapest we would ever see it.)

Reload completely blows P3P out of the park and has asserted itself as my favorite Persona game. (Persona 4 being my previous first favorite.). I completely destroyed this game and am sad the experience is over. (Had to get done quick so I could play Final Fantasy VII Rebirth on release!)

Persona 3: Reload is elegant, mature, wickedly stylish, and very sad. I love well written sad things. I’ve heard people call this title edgy, but that edge is what defines and makes this Persona so great. If not the best. You know what they say. The third time’s the charm! And Persona is an experience, for anyone who loves JRPGS, that people should have at least once.

Join me as I talk about Persona 3: Reload. A story of a teen named Makoto. Who just transferred to Tatsumi Port Island and awakened a powerful force by shooting himself in the head.

Persona 3 Reload is painfully stylish and cool. It’s gotten a lot of upgrades including a new voice cast. Which I think does a better job sounding more natural. Especially Bebe. The old crew did a phenominal job but I just like new performances better.

Also the amount of voice acting we got. Wow. Practically the whole thing has voice acting. Even all the social links. I think that might be a first, but don’t quote me on that.

Then there’s the art direction, which has been somewhat of a hot topic, but I like the new art assets better. The original artwork has an undeniable charm but the new stuff has this great polish.

Though I dare say the older art better lends to the “creepy” tone of the game. The traditionally beautiful anime faces do take away from that a little.

And this new look isn’t just the art assets and sprites, it goes as far as the menu.

I don’t say this often, but that’s hot. That menu is everything. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so strongly about a menu. I would fight a stranger in the parking lot if they told me this menu looked bad. It is so slick and sleek. It hurts because of how good this looks.

This? This gives me math folder vibes. I think this was why I was so much more drawn to Persona 4 in the first place.

Well. Not because of the menu. The menu is functional and doesn’t look awful by any stretch of the imagination. We all know that fully functional is a high bar for developers to reach nowadays.

But each Persona, from 1 - 5 and now to Reload, was a step into stronger art direction. Each Persona contributed something new artistically to get it to its current state of intense stylization. Persona 3 Reload is simply a culmination of all these steps forward. It makes me feel bad for not touching the main Shin Megani Tensei series at all. Because I don’t get to see the artistic history from it that could have contributed to Persona. I’m aware I’m missing out and need to correct that! Ha!

TLDR: Persona 3: Reload is so ✨PRETTY✨.

Then there’s the gameplay. Persona ranks among my favorite JRPGs because it has so much side stuff to do. Persona at its core is two different kinds of games. A life sim and a JRPG. If you get bored with one half you can go hang out in the other. Excellent. Brilliant. Love it. Persona is a great ADHD person game. It also gives the game a nice contrast between the light and dark elements. A narrative rest, so to speak. Also the difficulty modes. I’m not afraid to say I prefer normal mode. Some grinding is fine but I hate excessive grinding in games. I feel it overshadows the game. Though without some grind you just have a glorified visual novel. It’s all about balance and personal taste I suppose. But I’m of the belief that grinding doesn’t make a game hard. It makes it time consuming which makes it look like the game is hard. But this is not the same thing! Persona just… GETS that I don’t want to grind for that long.

I love JRPGs, but I tend to run hot and cold with them. I think a lot of them do really suffer from being too samey in their initial presentation. The style and identity the Persona series has is 100% what kept me playing after a friend lent me his Vita to play. He insisted upon it as he handed me Persona 4 Golden.

He was right. Persona was awesome. Persona 3 Reload makes me feel those same feelings when I had that initial introduction to the franchise. I do feel genuinely wowed by this title. Which I don’t feel often in gaming. My favorite part about it is it is set in the modern era. Swords and dragons are nice, but different time periods come with different ideologies, cultures, and challenges. Persona takes the “familiar” and uses that premise to flip your world upside down. And that each one goes with a different aesthetic.

God I hope they remake or rerelease 1 or 2. Or both.

Anyway.

Persona 3 additionally is just so… sad. Persona 4 has those sad moments too but I just feel those main and side stories hit harder in Persona 3. The ending is a sad gut punch. I love it. Like any great visual novel character interactions and story can make or break the experience. And Persona 3 only managed to sharpen those interactions with the newer voice acting and the retranslated script. The whole feel is a lot less awkward.

Then there’s the music. If you didn’t watch the intro I posted in the beginning, do yourself a favor and do so as you read please.

Oh? You’ve heard the song before? Are you saying you don’t want to listen to this jazzy and funky soundtrack again? Heresey I say!

Oh? You don’t want to scroll back up? No problem fam. I’m gonna post the full track here.

And the whole soundtrack is this good. This is just a taste. Ugh. It’s so good. It is both energizing and soothing. I ask you to listen purely because my words can’t do it justice.

I am recognizing what a mistake it was not to play the full console version and what a crime it is that they ported P3P over Persona 3 itself. It had an anime too, did it not? Like a movie or something?

Let’s not start with the FES mess. They’ve basically said it’s not being included even as DLC. I’m just going to play it separately, and by the good grace of god you don’t have to play the whole game over to play “The Answer” arc. (Which I’ll post an update on that when I do that. Someday.)

I can take or leave the female protagonist. I want a female protagonist, but in P3P she was always kind of an empty husk that you knew wasn’t the “real” main character. I don’t mind games where I play a character instead of myself. But I feel they could do a new unique perspective if they switched it up for Persona 6. Especially since they are nailing down some of the problematic elements of the series.

I’m aware that they’ve changed a lot from the original Persona 3 to Reload. But to be frank my memory has just never been that long lasting or great. I can genuinely come back to most games after a certain amount of time and it’s like playing it brand new over again. A blessing and a curse. But I can remember Tartarus being a bigger pain in the ass than it is now. Tartarus also seems notably more varied in design as you climb. I feel like I am having a distinctly better time than the first time. (I may have to play a brief stint in portable to see if this is true.)

Side note: The Dark Hour as a concept in itself is a topic I want to cover in its own post at some point. This isn’t unique to Reload which isn’t why I’m not talking about a lot of elements like this (Because remake reviews should be more about what is improved) but it was still a genius way to fit in an alternate world.

At the end of the day, and right before the dark hour, Persona 3: Reload had no excuse to fail. The bones of the beast itself were so good. As long as you left it to simmer and caramelize this remake always destined to be great. It takes elements and tricks that made later titles great and Atlus applied all their learned skills here.

It’s stuff the Persona, and SMT, community already loved. And for good reason. It was already a compelling experience and it’s one I’m really glad I came back to. Playing it this way really changed how I felt about the game as a whole. Even without the extra content I’m going to say this is THE WAY to play Persona 3 from here on out. We’ll see if I feel that way after playing Persona 3: FES. But don’t expect to see that critique any time soon.

[masked-disciple]

Now that I'm home again, here is a link to my entire pixel archive. I have been meaning to actually sort it a bit better, and tbh I think the Cyworld backgrounds and Sayclub dolls should be in a danbooru, but I haven't had the chance to even begin that task.

This is my personal collection, so it's not exactly optimized for anyone but me. However, as I collect Cyworld backgrounds and Sayclub dolls to ensure that they don't become lost media (and am indeed searching for any information about them, especially potential artist identities, so I can thank them for making them), I am happy to let others download my entire collection. All I ask is that if you find pixels I don't have, or higher resolutions / uncropped versions of pixels I don't have in that version, I would very much appreciate them.

It's sorted like this:

Backgrounds: Non-Cyworld pixel backgrounds, generally by tumblr artists, either reverse-image searchable or I can give you a pretty good idea of where I found it.

Blinkies, Buttons, Sayclubs, and Stamps: sorted only by the question "and have I uploaded this to my website yet".

Cyworlds: Originally sorted by what kind it was, now most everything goes to die in z-CyworldSort where there's like 5700 images. 'Current' is just a duplicate folder of what's been sorted already. 'Neocities' is the folder of my personal favourites that I plan on using on my website. z-CyworldSort > confusion is where the janked (low-res, non-gif, obvious composites, otherwise not perfect quality) ones go, although it hasn't been sorted well. Bonnibels is specifically for backgrounds of the smaller size, since I made that folder before I realized there are a lot of unique ones at that size.

Favicons: largely gathered from macaque.moe and a couple tumblr blogs, semi-sorted. Headsup, this is a big folder.

HorDiv / VerDiv: horizontal and vertical dividers.

PixelDecorations: various misc pixels that decorate web pages. Not sorted at all, have fun with that.

px: A folder full of things that need to get sorted. Many webp files here that need to be converted; mostly already in folders that need to be put into the above folders, but some that are just a mess.

Tiles: repeatable background tiles, and pixel frames.

z-Sets: Pixel sets, found primarily on Flight Rising or old websites that offered them as sets. Some of them can be reverse-image searched, others only exist on the Wayback Machine. I can find sources for all of these if need be.

z-sort: Actually the misc folder, alongside some site buttons for other Neocities. The ZIPs folder is a treasure trove of Cyworlds I've ripped from old websites but haven't sorted out at all yet: there's a lot of still images and preview images and whathaveyou. You may find some really unique ones in there!

As for some final credits, I owe a lot of this collection to you, @animatedglittergraphics-n-more, and @kawaiipixelcollection. Every single image that I've queued from the three of you (and my queue is currently maxed out with 250 posts I still need to unlike and queue, so I'm trying my best to keep up!) has been added to my archive. So you will find a lot of your own curation in here as well!

Thank you so much for helping me make sure these beautiful artworks don't get lost, and here's hoping eventually we can find the artists, and thank them for everything.

@raymondshields I'm happy to let you know I appreciate that you like my Cyworld and Sayclub Pixel Scenes so as a token of my appreciation you can submit Cyworld, Sayclub, Daum, etc. Pixel Scenes anytime you want even post links to archives of them as well

[intothegenshinworld]

I'm back again, lol. Hope you're doing good and that I'm not bothering you.

How do you think genshin characters would react to you making art of them? It doesn't really matter whether it's a drawing or song or a story of them(all of it is considered art after all). But I think that if you were to write a song or some kind of fic of them, Kazuha, Venti, Xingyan, Yae and all characters interested in those areas would be even more touched.

Also, imagine if Albedo finds a way to get a hold of a drawing of him by you(if it's digital he can probably find a way to materialize it with alchemy) and he just frames it and keeps it in his office or at his camp just to look at it as a reminder that his beloved creator loves him enough to spend time making such a beautiful artwork of him. Or if you draw on paper or canvases, suddenly a few of your pieces might be missing. And if it's a painting specifically he'll probably spend a lot of time researching the techniques used to draw the painting. It can go from what materials and brushes you used to at what angle and how much force was used in individual brushstrokes.

And you can bet that if Yae gets a hold of one your fics they're getting published or if it's a drawing maybe used for a cover or posters.(Just copies ofc, she's keeping the original)

And the embarrassment you'd feel if one of the fics they found was one of those x reader smut fics 💀 Reactions will most definitely vary between smug flirting and flustered shutdown(a.k.a Xiao)

P.s. Sorry, I really can't write short asks for the life of me, huh? TvT

No worries! You're not bothering me at all!! I'm doing well, you too? :D Earlier today I posted another ask, but it didn’t show up on the tags. I ended up reposting it, and in the end it showed up the second time (which was a relief, it was a big ask lol) so let’s hope this one will go alright! If not, I hope it at least notifies you XD

Albedo is extremely self-aware. He can feel your gaze shift when you move the camera, and while he doesn’t get the full picture, he believes Teyvat to be your playground.

In the time spent with you, Albedo has memorised your patterns in behaviour. He can predict your next move accurately. You want him to move this way? He’s already moving into that direction without the code leading him.

Unlike most others, he 'favours' the code. It restricts him, but it never stops him. He memorises the numbers that barricade the world and recognises the patterns in them. It doesn’t take long for him to enter a new world, your dektop.

You're not in that 'world'. You presence is none existent. And while it's not you, it’s a step closer to knowing more about you.

This new world has lots of information, useful to him to get to know you more. And so Albedo starts doing what he does best; experiment.

He starts bending the code further and plays with the numbers barricating Teyvat. It only takes him a few days to finds your personal information. 

Albedo tries to make sense of the newfound information. Your location is indeed unknown to Teyvat. It must be another realm which you call home. It's purely coincidental that he stumbles upon your folder of 'fanart'. Not that he minds. Perhaps he took a few souvenirs. No one has to know, right?

There was a short period where he tried to materialise the 'artwork' you made. He succeeded, but only temporarily. The code would delete your masterpiece as soon as your presence arrived.

But Albedo isn’t one to give up. He likes the chase you give him. It's no fun if the creator gave him everything in one go. So, he tried to look for alternatives.

At the end of Albedo's adventure in the code, he succeeded.

There is now an exact replica of your 'fanart' framed and stored away at his camp. The figure in the portrait is uncannily similar to Albedo himself. It's the reason why he grew obsessed with it. 

You don't care much about the books in game. You gather them for achievements but never look at them again once they entered your inventory.

Perhaps it's a good thing you didn't.

If you did, you'd have found an item only available to you.

It's got more text than the others. It contains content you're too familiar with. 

Worst of all, it's signed with your full name, published by Yae, and spread all over Teyvat.

Hmm... maybe you should keep track of the items you hold, traveller.

[braintapes]

I don’t wanna leave a whole wall of text in the tags of that post but I think something that people also forget, because it’s incredibly easy to forget this, is the fact that there’s likely a lot more people enjoying your art than you, the artist, will ever truly know, in ways that are equally impossible to know about.

I’m still in the middle of organizing my downloaded blog archive. Every time I see artwork that really inspires me or I just think is cool and want to come back to appreciate it later, I copy it to a separate ‘Amazing Art’ folder with the username and title/caption of the work. Right now, I have over 1,100 images saved in that folder, and I’m not even HALFWAY through my blog archive.

I’ve saved art that’s gotten thousands of notes. Some only a few hundred. Some still, maybe in the low double-digits. Art that only ever got maybe 4 notes at best since it was posted almost a decade ago. I’ve saved art from users that have been inactive for years, who have de-activated or changed handles, from people that have gone on to do much bigger and better things or altogether different things, and who probably don’t even think about the piece I saved anymore.

I reblogged and liked those art pieces years ago. Some I reblogged multiple times, plenty I liked. Some I saved to drafts, never publicly reblogging. But I still have them saved. I still love them, still admire them, still adore looking at those works of art. Paintings, sketches, pixel arts, photos....I have them saved on my computer, and any time I want I can just go and look at them again and fall in love again and again!

The artists don’t know this. They couldn’t possibly know how much their works inspired me back then and continue to inspire me now. They can’t know how much I gush in my head, analysing all the little details, wondering about their processes. For all they know, their art got maybe a dozen notes and was forgotten about. But it wasn’t.

It’s so easy to forget this. To think the things you post won’t leave an impact on people, that it’ll all just float by in the digital sea. But people do see your work, they do remember, they do love it. Your work genuinely truly inspired somebody out there, meant the world to someone out there, even if they never even liked or reblogged it! I guarantee this, because I’m constantly falling in love with art I see online, even if I can’t or don’t engage with it on a platform level.

I completely understand the desire for reblogs over likes. I can’t begrudge anyone for feeling that way, but I think...it’s so easy to get caught up in that being the only meaningful way people can engage with your work that it can hurt when you don’t see results.

If you catch yourself feeling down about it, try to remind yourself that 1) You made something!!! You created something and it’s beautiful because you expressed yourself! and 2) Someone else saw it, and even if they didn’t like/reblog, it probably means a lot to that person. There’s an invisible audience out there that loves what you create even if they never voice themselves

[prisonhannibal]

Do you stick to just your current obsession or do you draw things outside of it? I ask because I vaguely recall seeing some beautiful sapphic artwork and would love to see some more sapphic art of yours if you have done any.

Lots of love,

your gay little fan

thank you! I do some other art, sometimes personal stuff but mostly saami stuff and especially saami lesbian stuff. I mostly post hannibal art though because that’s what my followers are here for, and I also draw more fanart in general because it’s way more motivating to post stuff and get interaction than just draw something and leave it in my art folders lol. I have some stuff under tagged/original+art and i can reblog some for you rn!

[tsukkiseasalt]

Eyes That Won’t Wonder

2

“What, what!?” You shriek.

Another low laugh erupts from him as he leans against the door, his large frame blocking any potential view of the inside.

“I believe that is a compliment.” He mumbles his lips curling up into a sly smile. 

“Y-yeah, it was.” You stammer, words barely making themselves out of you as your stomach begins to do cartwheels.  

“As much as I'd love to stay right here and chat, you’d probably find it to be much more comfortable inside.” He says, smile fully present now, and you take a moment to admire the sight-storing it in your mind. He moves enough for you to slip right past him and pause the moment your feet touch the dark hardwood floors. 

The aroma is the first thing that invades your senses. It smells of pine and a rich tobacco, with slight hints of something sweet- maybe vanilla, you can’t really tell. The home is just as beautiful on the inside as it appeared from the outside. The dark hardwood floors complimented the ivory walls and dark rust colored trim. The living room was sparsely decorated though, it had only one couch, a chestnut loveseat and a matching recliner. He obviously doesn’t get many visitors. 

“Your home is beautiful.” You say breathlessly, eyes roaming the space in awe. 

“Thank you.” He exclaims, a large hand grazing the small of your back as he slips behind you and towards the kitchen. His touch makes your knees go weak and you steady yourself by placing a shaky hand on the door.

“Would you like something to drink?” You hear him call from the kitchen.

“Ah, water please.” You answer, taking a few deep breaths before you saunter over to the counter placing your folder in front of you. He slides the glass in front of you and you nod as a thank you before you begin to sip.

“I don’t think I ever caught your name.” He says leaning back onto the fridge, arms folded over his massive chest.

“Oh, uh, my name is y/n y/ln.” You mumble your index finger rubbing the rim of the glass. 

“Lovely, it fits you.” He says, eyes catching your own. You can't help the blush that arises on your cheeks. 

“T-thank you.” You manage to stammer out, silently cursing yourself for getting so flustered so quickly. He was a patient not some guy at a bar, you needed to get a grip and you needed to get it fast. “Uhm, you’re a bit younger than most of the other patients i have worked for. Is there actually anything wrong with you?” You quiz, but the words come out a bit harsher than you intended. “Oh goodness, I did not mean that in a bad way at all sir- Mr. Wakatoshi, oh my goodness. I am so sorry.” You exhale letting your head fall into your hands. Your words are all becoming a jumbled mess and you can't help the shame that creeps up your throat. Great, now he probably thinks I'm some kind of asshole.

“No, it's okay. I understand what you were trying to say. Two years ago I had to get a disc in my back replaced and it took a lot out of me. Though I can still get around pretty well, there are still certain tasks that I need help with. I am also set to have another surgery on my knee two months from now, so I thought it would be better to have someone get accustomed to me and my habits beforehands.” He says voice monotone. Is he angry?

“Mr. Wakatoshi, I am so sorry if I came off as rude earlier- I didn’t mean to offend.” You say feeling guilty. 

He shakes his head. “You’re fine sweetheart, I’m actually quite flattered that you think that.” Before you have a chance to relish his words he starts again, “I’m going to go put some clothes on, but here. I made a list- well a schedule really- of how my day usually functions. You can look over it and if there is anything that seems to be a bit much for you let me know and we will make alterations to it.” He says walking out of the kitchen and returning with a piece of paper. “Here, I will return shortly.” He says handing you the paper. Your eyes skim the page as you read the text.

7:30am- Arrive & make coffee ( I prefer mine black)

7:45am- Read the newspaper

8:00am- Feed Randy & Lyle 

8:15am- Pour second cup of coffee & wash dishes

8:30-9:30am- 2nd Workout (If you could have a bowl of fruits waiting that would be lovely)

10:00am- Post shower stretch (Help isn’t required but appreciated)

10:30-12:00pm- Take Lyle to the park (You are more than welcomed to join us) 

12:30pm- Lunch / with Aone* (*Mon. & Thurs. only)

1:00pm- Stop at farmers market

1:30pm- Arrive home & check on Randy

1:35-4:00pm- Varies (You may leave at this time or you may stay for dinner.)

4:00-6:00pm- Prepare dinner

6:05- 6:45pm- Eat then wash dishes

All that is required of you is bolded, the italicized text is completely voluntary, though I would enjoy your company.

“Goodness.” You mumble, placing the paper down. “This is even less than I did with Washijō.” You thought you had it easy then just checking his oxygen, helping him up, and taking him wherever, but you were basically an in-home barista.

“I hope it isn't too much.” The voice startles you as he appears beside you now fully clothed- well not really. He had on a pair of dark sweatpants and a gray sleeveless shirt putting biceps on display for all to see.

“Uh, no, not at all sir. I was expecting much more actually.” You admit eyes darting between the paper and his arms. 

“Oh, well I'm sorry to disappoint you.” He says voice low as he bends down to tie his shoes. “I’m sure that there will be more for you to do after my knee surgery.”

“Yes, and I'm not disappointed sir, I'm honestly kind of relieved. I haven't worked with anyone in quite a while, so this is a good refresher to allow me to get back into the routine of things.” You say words falling from your lips before you realize it.

“Is that so?” He asks standing back up to his full height, face full of curiosity.

“Yes, my previous patient passed away and I took some time off. He and I were close, friends even, and the death really hit me hard even though I knew it was coming. It still hurts ya know.” You exclaim as feelings of sadness wash over you at the thought of your friend. 

You didn't know what you were expecting when you told him that, maybe an ‘i'm sorry for your loss’ or nothing at all but it is safe to say a hug was not one of those things. His body was warm and his chest was solid- it felt good. You wrapped your own arms around his waist and closed your eyes. 

“I hope that one day you and I could be friends as well.” He says quietly pulling away. 

You don't fight the smile that graces your face, “Yeah, I feel like we will.”

The words seem to liven him because a large smile spreads across his face again. “Well I’m gonna go lift now, feel free to look around. There's food in the fridge and snacks in the pantry. Make yourself at home.” He says walking to the back of his home.

“Oh, Mr. Wakatoshi!”

“Yes love?” He asks, turning back around, a smile still lingering on his lips.

“Who are Lyle and Randy?” You ask looking back down at the paper, partly to hide the blush that you are now sporting. “Are they your children?” 

“Yes, they are my children. I’ll introduce you when I return.” He laughs before turning back around and disappearing into a hallway.

You sigh as soon as he is out of eyesight dropping your head onto the cool marble countertop, raising your head just enough to read the time on the clock that sits unwavering by stairs. 8:37. You had just under an hour to get somewhat acquainted with the home you would now be in for ten hours a day for six days a week. You decide to begin with the kitchen, opening and closing drawers & cabinets identifying the contents within them, occasionally rubbing a light hand over them. Next is the living room. The wide open space is mostly vacant and you take a seat on the loveseat sinking back into the cushions. “Nice.” You mumble.  

Pushing yourself up you wonder to every room opening the door just enough for you to peek in and see what it is. You hesitate though when you get to the room at the end of the hallway. It’s his. You could sense it, nonetheless you slowly push the knob down and peek inside. It’s clean just like the rest of his home. You don't linger and decide its best to close the door & move onto the next. 

By 9:15  you’d looked throughout his entire home, and it was more beautiful than you could have imagined. The ceilings in the bathrooms were high and had beautiful artworks painted atop of them, they looked as though they belonged in a museum rather than someone's guest bathroom. The spare bedrooms were just as lovely. Each had a shelf that was littered with books and knick-knacks that looked foreign. All of this just fueled your curiosity- what did he do & how long did he do it?

You shrugged as you went back into the kitchen jumping when you saw his large frame in the fridge. He was shirtless, again, but this time his hair was wet and clung to his head. The small gray stripes were clear as day against his dark olive locks.

“Oh, hi. I didn’t think you’d be done yet.” You say awkwardly scratching the back of your neck.

“Yes, I finished early and decided to shower & grab a snack.” He says waving the bowl of strawberries.

“I was about to prepare one for you.” You said.

“Oh, thank you. You don't really have to do anything today, just get accustomed to things.” He says popping the small red fruit into his mouth. 

“Would you like me to stretch you out?” You ask, remembering the list. 

His eyes shoot up to yours as soon as the question escapes your lips and you realize how wrong it sounded and before you had a chance to correct yourself he spoke. “You stretch me out, I mean i’ll try anything once but i’d prefer the opposite..”

His words startled you to say the least, and almost instinctively the words flowed from your lips, “I’d like to see you try.” 

His eyes widened at your remark and at that you began to spew apologies. “Shit, fuck, DAMMIT. God, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, the stretching part I mean. Well I meant that, but not what I said afterwards. Ok, let me start over. What I meant to say is do you need help stretching considering you just got done working out. There, that's what I meant.” 

Your eyes are frantic as they lock with his. God, it's the first day and I'm already gonna lose my damn job. Just great. His lips are pressed in a straight line for a moment before he finally lets the edge of them glide up into a small smirk. 

“I’ve already stretched, but I suppose I could go a little deeper, maybe a little harder this time.” He says emphasizing the two words as he pops another strawberry between his lips smirk still evident.

“The stretches of course.?” You ask for clarification.

He hums and pops another strawberry between his lips setting the bowl down onto the counter stalking towards you, his large figure quickly engulfing your much smaller one almost instantly. “That’s not quite what I had in mind.” 

You can feel his warm breath on your lips as he leans down, “But if that is what you insist.” 

A loud bark bellowed throughout the kitchen causing you to jump. He smiled and wrapped a protective arm around your waist. “No need to fret, he was probably just getting anxious to meet you.”

“He?”

“Yes, my son, or at least one of them. Come on so I can introduce you.” He says guiding you down the hallway, to his room you assumed. You were correct, you realized as he pushed the door open revealing a large dog. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart he doesn’t bite. Daddy made him promise to be on his best behavior.” He whispers lowly into your ear. 

Fuck, this may be harder than I thought.

hiiiiii, this is the second chapter & you can just check the tag eyesthatwontwonder to read the first. anywaysssss i hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are always appreciated <33

[talesofstyles]

Happy Anniversary

look, we all need lawyer harry in our lives. and we need to shag him in his office at least once. this piece is a mix of pure filth in his office and cute dad harry moments with his little girl at home. anywaay i’ll just shut up now. hope you lot like it! xx

[4k]

Balancing two cups of coffee and a yellow folder in your hands, you stride off the lift and onto the 30th floor of your building. Your own office is just two floors below on the 28th, but you have a meeting scheduled on this floor in about twenty five minutes and you thought it would be nice to surprise your husband before you head to the conference room together. To maintain your professional image at work, both of you don’t make it a habit to pop into each other’s office even though you work in the same building unless it’s absolutely necessary, but today you thought you’d make an exception since it’s your anniversary after all. And you sure he wouldn’t mind.

Hell, you know he’d be elated.

You gracefully navigate through a sea of cubicles, stopping for a second here and there to greet back some of your colleagues as you make your way to Harry’s office in the corner. He got the corner office a little over two years ago after he got full equity partnership, and God, you love Harry’s office. There’s not much of a difference regarding the interior with yours, but the view is ten times more spectacular.

You stop as you hear your name being called, and as you glance to your right, you see his secretary smiling at you. “Hi! Happy anniversary!”

“Thanks Claire,” you smile back at her. “Is Harry in?”

She nods. “He’s got a conference call earlier but I think he’s done now.”

“I’ll be quiet just in case then,” you reply, walking past her. “See you!”

You shut the door with care and slowly turn the lock as you enter Harry’s office. You can see that he’s frowning ahead in that silent way he gets when his brain is dealing with some huge, knotty problem, but as he looks up from his computer and sees you, the frown immediately turns into a grin. “Hi wifey.”

“Hey,” you feel a pleased little smile coming to your lips as you creep along the edge of his desk until you’re in front of him, turning around for a second to set the cups of coffee and your folder on the table. “Got you some coffee, thought you’d need it.”

“Thank you my love,” he reaches out, curling both of his hands around your hips. When he looks up at you, he’s smirking. “I think we both do.”

His eyes are sparkling as he licks his lips, scanning the length of your body. Without a doubt reminiscing last night after you tucked your little girl in bed and had a little pre-anniversary celebration right there on your kitchen island. 

It still gives you jolt sometimes, the way he’s looking at you, as if he’s looking at a breathtaking piece of artwork. You feel like you’ll never get used to it even after four years of marriage and two years of being together prior to that. It never fails to make your heart skip a beat every single bloody time.

It’s not much help, the fact that he’s in a suit. You see him in a suit every day yet it never gets old. Whoever invented the phrase ‘a man in a suit is to a woman what a woman in lingerie is to a man’ is brilliant and you can’t agree more with them. Your favourite piece of clothing on him is a long sleeved button-up shirt, and you’re pretty sure it has something to do with your attraction to your husband’s shoulders. There’s just something with the way they look when he’s taking it off — and how much you enjoy unbuttoning it. And when you layer a coat on top of that, it’s like getting to enjoy it twice. Like a very beautifully wrapped gift that you just can’t wait to rip open. 

You choose his left thigh to sit on, the one with a tiger tattoo hidden underneath his black trousers. Your favourite thigh. His face is only inches away from yours, you can just smell the scent of his Armani aftershave and hear the crisp cotton rustle of his shirt as he moves.

“Happy anniversary,” he mumbles against your cheek. His lips warm against your skin, and you can feel he’s smiling as he layers kisses down your jawline.

“Four years,” you turn your head to have a proper look at his face when he’s done doting on your face. Your fingers dance along his jawline this time, before sliding back into his hair. He lets out a happy sigh when you rub his scalp, leaning closer to lock your mouths in a sweet, light kiss.

“Don’t chuck me just yet,” he jokes, and you can feel the words said against your lips at the same time as you hear them.

You give him another quick kiss, giggling as you pull away. “Don’t worry,” you shake your head. “Not for another fifty years.”

“Make it seventy, will ya?” A sly smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Sixty five,” you deadpan. “Give or take.”

He’s chuckling as he lets one of his palms slide up your leg, the other running down your back, stopping just above your arse. His grins widen when he doesn’t feel anything else beside your work dress covering them. “You’re not wearing anything under this?”

“Not a stitch,” you murmur.

“Fuck,” he breathes heavily just inches away from your ear, sending a ticklish sort of shiver through your whole body. “We’ve got a meeting in twenty minutes.”

“We can do the whole ‘make love and explore each other’s bodies’ thing later tonight,” you shoot him a smirk as your hands wander south to undo his belt buckle, turning around to straddle him and letting him pull your dress up until it’s bunched around your hips. “Now you just have to quickly shag the hell out of me.” 

Harry growls in your ear as you unzip his trousers and reach inside, feeling him go from interested to rock hard within seconds, and the sound of it makes your core flex around nothing. He adjusts himself in his chair, pulling down his boxers just enough to get his cock out before he settles back, giving the full control to you.

You hold onto his shoulder with one hand and lift your hips, not wasting another minute before you let him in with a quiet moan. He’s nibbling your bottom lip before tracing it with his tongue.

“Fuck, love,” Harry swallows every small sound that you breathe, crafting them into a low, desperate moan that rumbles from his chest. “So bloody wet f’me.”

“Been thinking about you all morning,” you whisper in his ear, your voice as seductive as he’d ever heard, making him growl and shift his hips upward. 

You lean back with your elbows on the edge of his desk, letting him have a better view of where he disappears so deep inside of you, filling you nearly past your limit.

“I love you,” he groans softly, biting his bottom lip as he brings his thumb where you need it the most, pressing down in small circles. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, one of your elbows slipping off his desk but he is quick to catch you. You’re about to protest when he moves his hand up instead, his fingers digging into your hips, but the feeling of him basically shoving you down onto his cock definitely making up the loss.

He lifts you up without warning before setting you down on top of the scattered draft contracts and financial reports on his desk. He is far from gentle, every thrust sending you further and further across his desk that he needs to pull you back. Every drag of his cock out of your sensitive core sends delightful shivers of euphoria racing through you.

You desperately try to find something, anything, to hold onto. His arms, his shoulders, finally settling with hair as you pull him down by his tie closer to you. With a gasp of his name, you fall into bliss. Your eyes closed as he kisses you intensely, breathing against you deeply as he lets go of himself, spilling all he’s got into you.

He chuckles against your jaw as you both try to even your breath, giving you one last kiss. He pulls out and quickly reaches out for tissues to clean you properly before wiping himself and tucking his dick back into his trousers.

He gives you a moment to come down your high, certainly not complaining about the view of you laying on top of his desk with your dress still bunched up around your hips. There’s no way he can look at his desk the same again.

He reaches out to help you to sit up, stealing another kiss or two as you try to stand. Your legs are quivering and his lips quirk into a gentle smirk. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you nod as you adjust your dress and fix your hair. “How do I look?”

“Freshly fucked,” he teases you, but hastily amends himself when you look like you’ve seen a ghost. “I’m joking, I’m joking. You look amazing as always, my love.”

“Oh shit,” you mutter as you glance towards the clock. You quickly grab your yellow folder and your cup of coffee and head towards the door. “We need to go. The SC and HSBC people and the insurer must already be in the conference room by now.”

“Wait,” Harry suddenly stops you as you walk towards the door. Pulling you close, his eyes fixed on yours before he leans even closer, giving you a wink before he whispers, “you’re the best fuck I’ve ever had. Happy anniversary.”

***

“Mummy!”

You’re smiling through the mirror on your dressing table at the reflection of your two and a half year old peeking her head into your room. She’s wearing an adorable pink smocked dress with the cutest fabric bow at the back and she’s clutching a painting she must’ve just done. 

“Hi poppet,” you turn around to smile at her, opening your arms to sweep her into a hug.

“Mummy, look!” She proudly shows her painting. “It’s a pish!”

She still can’t say ‘f’ so she always pronounces ‘p’ instead, and both you and Harry can’t get enough of her baby talk. She grows way too fast but the way she talks reminds you that she’s still pretty much your baby. And you love it.

“Wow,” you gasp admiringly. “That’s a beautiful fish, my love. Shall we put it on the fridge later?”

“Uh-uh,” she nods as she climbs onto your bed. When you’re sure she doesn’t need your help climbing up, you turn your attention back to the mirror and continue with your makeup.

“Where’s daddy?” You ask her, glancing towards your bed where she is sat before you do your eyebrows.

She shrugs casually. “Seepin?”

Honestly, she is so petty. You wonder where she gets that from. Now every time you ask her about Harry she’ll say that he’s sleeping. It all started the other day when Harry was putting her to sleep. Minnie was telling him about her day but Harry was so tired that he fell asleep on her bed in the middle of the story. And you can’t really blame Harry because as much as you love your daughter, you know she sucks at telling stories. It takes ages and there are so many times where you smile at her but actually all you want to do is to yell ‘GET! TO! THE! BLOODY! POINT!’ (but of course you don’t do that, that’ll make you a terrible parent). 

You laugh and shake your head. “No he’s not.”

You barely finished your sentence when Harry walks into your room. He’s changed out of his work suit and into his fancy one. It’s slate gray from Prada, with an unbuttoned black shirt underneath (that you’ll definitely ask him to button them up later just so you can unbutton it for your pleasure). He looks so dashing that you can’t help but stare through your dressing table mirror.

“There you are,” he strides to the bed before plopping himself down to sit beside Minnie. “Turned my back for a second and you already ran off.”

Minnie giggles as Harry attacks her with tickles. “Daddy!” 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Harry suddenly stands up, walking towards his wardrobe and takes out a wrapped box before walking back towards you. He’s smiling sheepishly. “I know we said no gifts, but I can’t resist.”

You roll your eyes comically. “I knew it.”

“Open it,” he hands you the box, before leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Happy anniversary.”

You can’t believe your eyes when you open it. It’s a black Alexander McQueen dress. The black Alexander McQueen dress. The one that you’d been saving for and promised yourself that you’d get it as a reward after you’re done with the big case at work that you're currently working with Harry, because it’s the biggest case you’ve ever had, and it’s just so stressful that the idea of a reward is basically the only thing that keeps you going. 

“Harry,” you look at him, dumbfounded.

“Thought you’d like it,” he smiles at you as he sits back down on the bed, and Minnie quickly sits on his lap.

“I don’t know what to say. I mean… how-”

“Darling, you’ve been looking at that dress on the iPad before bed every night this past month,” he chuckles. “Hope you like it?”

“Of course I like it!” You grin. “I love it! Now, I knew you would get me something anyway even though we clearly said no gifts, so I got you something as well.” 

You head to your wardrobe and rifles at the back behind your shoes. As you turn, you’re holding the wrapped present and you hand it to Harry.

“You shouldn’t have, darling,” he shakes his head, smiling at you. “But thank you.”

“Open it, daddy!” Minnie exclaims excitedly and Harry nods.

He sets it down on the carpet and carefully opens the wrapping paper. “A suit carrier!”

“Now it’s not as fancy as the dress, but I know you need a new suit carrier. You’ve got your old one for ages.”

Harry buttons your lips together for a proper kiss, earning a shriek of “eeew!” from Minnie as she closes her eyes with both of her dimply baby hands, and you both can’t help but laugh. 

“M’gonna get you!” Harry playfully growls and catches her into his arm before she gets the chance to run away, kissing her little face over and over. It’s the sweetest sight and seeing them together always makes you more broody than you already are.

“Daddy, stop!” She giggles as she tries to hide her face from Harry who is now trying to blow raspberries on her cheek.

You take the dress that you were going to wear back into your wardrobe and pull out your new dress from the box instead. And as you slip into your brand new dress, both your husband and your daughter are looking at you like you hung the moon.

“Wow!” Minnie gasps. “Beautiful, mummy!”

You smile sheepishly. “Thank you, my love.”

“Mummy’s hot isn’t she, Min?” Harry nudges Minnie gently, tilting his head towards you.

“No!” Minnie frowns. “Mummy’s not hot. She’s warm. Mummy gives warm hugs,” she enunciates carefully.

Both you and Harry are dying with laughter. “You’re right, you’re right,” Harry hastily amends. “Mummy’s warm. Sorry.”

You check yourself once again in the mirror and you finally put on your lipstick, before quickly realising that you’ve made a mistake. Minnie has been obsessed with your lipsticks these days that you can’t put it on without her asking to do the same.

“Mummy!” She yells in delight as she spots the lipstick. “Miiiine!”

“Minnie,” Harry turns to her, scolding her gently. “We don’t say ‘mine’. What do we say?”

“Please mummy?” She looks at you with puppy dog eyes. “I do it, please?”

You just can’t say no to your little girl. So all you can do is just sigh and sit her down on the dressing table, helping her to put on the lipstick. When you’re done, she gasps admiringly at her own reflection in the mirror and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Beautiful!” She exclaims. “Like mummy!”

“You are, my darling,” Harry walks towards the dressing table and stands behind Minnie, squeezing her from behind and kissing her on the cheek. “Just like mummy. Gonna be a little heartbreaker, aren’t you?”

Minnie lets out another fit of giggles as Harry blows raspberries on her neck. And Harry’s about to give her another kisses attack to her cheeks when suddenly the doorbell rings and Minnie’s eyes light up. “Auntie Gem!”

“Shall we go and say hello?” 

***

Harry is taking you to Wolseley in Mayfair, one of your favourite restaurants which also happens to be the place where you went on your first date. Technically it wasn’t a date, it was supposed to be a dinner meeting with some other people from the firm who were working on the same case with you and Harry, but one of them was stuck somewhere dealing with an even bigger case, and the other one had to go home for family emergency, so that left only you and Harry to deal with it. 

You’re looking at your husband in front of you as you take a sip of your champagne. He’s clearly trying to ignore his phone, but after the 10th time it vibrates, he gives up.

“It’s Halford isn’t it?” You ask him, guessing the person who’s been texting him for the past hour.

He nods, taking a gulp of his champagne before finally setting his phone down. “What?” He’s gazing at you, a quizzical expression on his face.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You still think they need to go with the merger,” he accuses.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to, it’s written all over your face.”

“Fine,” you give up. “Since you insist, I still stand by my opinion. There’s no way out of it. They need to accept HSBC’s offer to merge.”

“Are you insane?” He looks at you in disbelief. “There’s no way Standard Chartered people would accept that. Halford would never say yes to that!”

“Harry, SC is going bust,” you retort. “They’ve been in denial long enough, don’t you think?”

Much to your surprise, he suddenly smiles.

“What?” You look at him in annoyance.

“I’ve missed this,” he’s hiding behind his champagne flute but you still see him smiling. “

This time you give him a quizzical look. “What?”

“This,” he makes elaborate gestures with his champagne flute before taking another gulp. “Working on the same case together. Reminds me of the good ol days, you know?”

Of course you know. That was how you met, in a conference room (in fact, it was that very conference room you both went to earlier today), working on a case together. You didn’t particularly get along well in the beginning, and that’s just to put it nicely.

“Darling, I love you,” you begin. “But I don’t really like working with you.” 

He laughs. “Oh come on, I’m not that bad!”

“Minnie is the only case that I actually enjoy working with you.” You roll your eyes comically and Harry can’t help but snort.

“Speaking about that kind of case,” he clears his throat before he begins. “I know it’s been perfect. You, me, our… case. But, I s’ppose we could, um, try for another case now?”

“Harry,” you reach across the table to squeeze his hand. “I’d love to have another… case. But,”

“Oh.”

“No, listen to me,” he breaks off into silence and you feel terrible at how hurt he sounds. “I’d love to have another baby, believe me I do, I really do. But right now we’re both just so caught up with work that we barely even see Minnie. I want us to try and learn how to have a better work-leisure balance before we go through that again.” 

You sigh in relief when he finally smiles at you. “I understand.” 

“Christmas,” you say out of the blue and Harry looks at you in confusion. “Christmas. Let’s try for another around Christmas. Which gives us around six months to figure this work-leisure thingy. That’s enough time don’t you think? Or when we’re done with this Standard Chartered case. Whichever comes first.”

“Darling, there’s no need to rush,” he assures you. “Honest. I’m ready when you are.”

“Actually there is,” you joke. “I’ve still got some vouchers for Mothercare that’ll expire by December next year.”

He chuckles. “So I’ve got to knock you up by March the latest?”

“No, February,” you reply and Harry appears a bit bemused. “Minnie was born way past her due date and I’m almost sure this one will come late too. We need it to be born before December, because- what?”

“Nothing,” Harry grins wider. “It’s just crazy, you know. Us. This. If someone came to this very table back then and told us that in six years we’d come back here to celebrate our four years wedding anniversary and talk about having a second baby…”

“Oh my god, I’d be livid,” you can’t help but laugh. “God, I hated you back then. I thought you were the most arrogant bastard I’d ever met.”

“Look at us now,” he makes another elaborate gesture with his champagne flute. Clearly making reference to that Paul Rudd meme.

“Who would’ve thought?” You laugh, playing along.

***

It turns out that Harry has another surprise for you.

After dinner, instead of driving back to your home in Kensington, he drives you both to Covent Garden instead. Turns out he’s booked a room in Rosewood for the night, and he didn’t want to say anything because he was sure you would say no. And he’s not wrong. You’ve never been away from Minnie overnight ever since she was born, and you would definitely overthink it and ended up saying no.

God, you love your husband.

The suite is amazing. It has panelled walls and plush sofas and a massive bed that looks insanely cosy. Now that you’re here, you’re fully convinced that it is not a crime to have a night off, and that Minnie will be just fine. In fact, you’re almost sure that she’s having a better time with Gemma than she is if you and Harry had stayed home. Gemma adores Minnie and Minnie is obsessed with her.

Harry hands you a glass of wine as he kisses your neck lingeringly. “The bath is ready.”

“You’ve got a text,” you murmur, tilting your head towards the coffee table where his phone is.

“Don’t care.”

“No, you do,” you insist. “Just look at it.”

He rolls his eyes but he listens to you and walks towards the coffee table. He grabs his phone, taking a second to read before he looks at you in astonishment.

“Oh my god.”

“What?” You play it cool, trying not to smile because actually you’ve read the notification about three minutes ago.

“Look,” he says, showing his phone to you.

Halford (Standard Chartered)

Harry, we’ve had our internal meeting and we’ve come to a decision to proceed with the merger.

You grin. “I don’t like to say I told you so.”

“You fucking love to say that,” he’s beaming at you. “Sweetheart, I know you said we can try when this case is over, and it is now. But just so you know I’m happy to wait til Christmas before we try too. There’s no rush.”

“Just shut up and put a baby in me, Styles.”

[icypantherwrites]

How do you get people to interact with your work? Especially on something that you spent hours slaving over and not a single person has interacted with it (except for the exception of my friends, who I'm very thankful for)? It's very disheartening. You know, I used to be kind of against the fact of 'interact with artists/writers/etc because it inspires them' because I thought 'why not just do it anyways, who cares if you get interacted with? You don't need to beg for comments' but now I totally understand what that means. I still want to write, I'm starting to love it honestly, but I wrote almost 2,000 words (which is a lot for me) and it took hours and no one seems to like it. I'm not sure how to feel about that yet. Did I post it at the wrong time, or do people just not care?

Ah, you have found the largest difference between "writing" and "posting." Writing, as you noted, is something you love to do, as do I. It's a fantastic feeling to get ideas down on a page, to pull together ideas, to write that line that just speaks to you. Writing is glorious and I'm glad you've found the beauty of it ♥

Posting, however, is very different and just like how they say everyone should work retail once in their life to understand it and learn some patience and empathy for those workers, I honestly I think everyone should have to spend hours creating something -- whether it's a story or a piece of artwork or a music video or even an in-depth analysis -- to post online and then get to experience that awful feeling of barely anyone (or even no one) engaging with it.

You write for you. You post for others. And that is a huge difference. People, even yourself as you noted, don't feel that they should have to engage with a creation. The person creating it should just enjoy the process and not care if no one stops by to say if they enjoyed it, what it made them feel, that they appreciate you sharing your time and talent and craft. But as you learned, we do care. And so we ask ourselves, why bother posting if there's no one there to appreciate it? You may as well just keep a personal folder of your works like a dragon and their hoard and never share it with anyone. I posted this quote a bit ago and I'm gonna paraphrase here, but if you have an audience of 1,000 people but no one engages it may as well be an audience of zero because you don't know those people are there. You don't know you have fans. You don't know people are looking forward to what you create. You have no idea they exist and it's a terrible, awful feeling.

It's why I so strongly advocate for reader engagement, in making that author, artist, creator feel appreciated. They spent their time to create something and they had the urge to share it, to connect to others. That's what being human is: connecting with others. And in this case it's connecting with others through art and a shared love of something (fandom) and wanting to get back just a little bit of what you put out. Because when a creator does get that engagement they crave it's amazing. Wonderful. Inspiring. It makes them want to create more (or maybe just post more often, cough, me) because they have an audience saying that they're here and that they appreciate you and it makes you want to continue to share your works rather than hoard them because you have now connected with someone.

And so now that you know firsthand how important that engagement is, be a part of the solution. Engage with stories and artworks and edits and whatever may have you that you enjoy. Tell that creator thank you. Quote back a favorite section or pull out a specific detail because that tells that creator you don't just care about quantity but about quality, that you see them and their efforts. I've made a post previously about some ideas to try to encourage engagement if you were interested and maybe a couple will give you some ideas to try to help with engagement on your stories. I can't say I use all of these things anymore myself, but sometimes all you need is a launching pad and some ideas. To your question about the time to post, I struggle very much with the timing as I've done polls and seen every day and hour suggestion there is so it's very difficult to say when to post, but I know for myself I do prefer posting earlier in the day.

I hope things improve for you and good luck with both your writing journey and your future engagement :)

[bangtanlalaland]

falcon | jjk 01 (m.)

synopsis ⇣ Jungkook Jeon, known as “Falcon,” unites with his best friend to rebel against the twisted, dominant system of the city, Python, until everything changes when he crosses paths with one of many enemies.

— dystopia au; enemies to lovers au

⇢pairing: free runner!jeon jungkook x detective!female reader    ⇢featuring: free runner!park jimin, free runner!kim namjoon, free runner!min yoongi & police captain!jung hoseok

⇢genre: angst, fluff, smut

⇢word count: 12.2k

⇢contents ⨯ warnings: (this fic is totally inspired by mirror’s edge), there’s isn’t any smut in this chapter (but there will be in future chapters), slow burn, some fluff in there, so much dialogue (it’s literally a MOVIE), some violence, some blood, some death, swearing lots of action (oops), fighting, free-running, lots & lots of drama (srsly get your popcorn ready), mentions of premonitions, major plot twists, infidelity (sorta?), mentions of sex, some sope action (yes i said it), namgi is also a thing (oop), basically jungkook is a rebel & proud, jimin is very clever (like woah), namjoon is a leader & sweetheart (as always), yoongi is a bad guy (¿woahhh did we expect that?) hoseok is a fuckboi (i’m sorry ugh :(((), also viper in this story is actually taehyung (oop), police stuff (duh), lots of bi stuff going on here, (much love for the lgbtq community)

artwork poster by: @hellenys​​

song rec: “falcon” by jaden smith

a/n: woah! so this is yet another wip that I’ve had for so long. I’ve made the decision to make this a series! (or maybe a two-shot) still not 100% sure yet, but I am honestly beyond relieved to finally release this. also a huge thank you to @hellenys​ for the artwork! I was actually inspired to start writing falcon after seeing her work. (specifically the photo above^) so you guys go check her out, her artwork is amazing!

Smack.

The sound of your boss dropping a chunky stack full of vanilla colored folders onto your desk, in your cubicle, startles your attention from sipping your now third afternoon dose of coffee. You swear he has been on your ass ever since you stepped foot into the clouded atmosphere of the police department. You were convinced you’re in Hell. Literally.

He eagerly spills, “These missing persons reports aren’t going to solve themselves. I can’t even step out for a $5 burger at that fast food shit place down the street without the press breathing down my neck about the citizens’ missing loved ones.”

You sigh for what has been the one thousandth time today so far. Going on one thousand-one. This city has been getting worse as the days go by, missing persons reports dating as far as 10 years back, maybe more if you really dig deep in there. Runners scatter the rooftops of the city, yet you and your entire team were left with zero leads. And your boss was right; the press was constantly nagging like a toddler at the age of two. Yet you and your tiny team were responsible for getting hands dirty and finding answers. And here he goes yet again…

“Contact the victims families. See if there’s any new information they could give us. Just in case. Over time, victims may remember details they happened to leave out- ” The phone for the department rings on your desk, and you hold your index finger up as if to politely ask your boss to shut his damn mouth so you can answer the phone.

“Python Police Department.” Your face grows concerned, mouthing to your boss: “Missing Person.” He throws his hands up and shakes his head in response, waiting for your departure from the phone. The elderly woman seemed borderline upset, but mostly depressed. As if all the life that was once in her was drained completely. After reassuring you will find answers, you hang up and turn to face your boss.

“It was a lady named Mrs. Jeon. She wants to follow up on the case for her son. Jungkook?” You say, more so as a question rather than a statement, in hopes that you pronounced his name correctly. Your boss nods in approval, clearly knowledgeable of who you’re talking about.

“Yeah she calls here at least one or twice a week saying the same thing over and over again,” he pauses momentarily then starts, “I remember that kid. He was in high school when his mother reported him missing,” he continues while shaking his head.

“I’ll never forget the day dispatch called me out there to see what was going on. This was back in my rookie detective days. At first I thought maybe he’s just playing hooky. Happens all the time, right?” You nod in agreement. You’d heard of his name before but never looked into it, considering you’d just been promoted 4 months ago. And for the first month, you’d only been sent to canvas witnesses. Although sadly, Jungkook is simply one among hundreds if not thousands of cases that have gone cold.

He continues, “But then, we checked the grid and his chip was gone. We didn’t get any alerts about its removal, so it was definitely shocking.”

“That doesn’t make sense. What do you mean it was gone?” You ask with crossed arms.

“Well, more like the grid showed that the chips’ location was his home. Obviously, he isn’t home and we searched the house. No chip.” He pauses for a moment as if processing what he’s about to say, “Someway, somehow, he removed himself from the grid. But, he wasn’t the only one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I reassured Mrs. Jeon that if he didn’t show up in two days then we could file a missing persons report. She insisted that something was wrong and didn’t want to wait two days. But she had no other choice, and so she filed the report and days turned into weeks, months, and years.”

“How long?” You question.

With a sigh he replies, “Five.”

“No wonder she’s calling.”

“I know. But that’s the weirdest thing about it. As I mentioned, Jungkook wasn’t the only one with a missing chip.” He reassures with a sigh of what you assume is exhaustion.

“And?”

Your boss squints his eyes, as if he’s thinking.

“Follow me.”

He leads you to the “Cold Cases” room. It looks almost like a library, but instead of children books it’s several cases from murders to runaways — where endless amounts of evidence, files, reports, and other tangible items are stored. He scrambles through a pull out drawer of folders labeled and sectioned off in alphabetical order. He then pulls out a vanilla folder, and opens the file, revealing a photo of a young teen with dark, brown hair and plump, pink lips.

“Mrs. Park. Mother of Jimin Park. She filed a missing persons report the same day Mrs. Jeon did. They actually came together. And apparently they live on the same street.” He states while exiting the room and striding you into his office.

You inquire, trying to catch up to his quick pace. “So what are you implying?”

“I think…” he trails off, placing the folder on top of his desk and flopping into his office seat. “Jungkook and Jimin decided to drop out of school and run away in the sunset together.”

“And why would you assume that?”

“Well, let’s talk about the runners that run the rooftops. I know you’re still trying to get the hang of things, but there’s a pattern with this.”

“Okay?” You more-so question, rather than stating.

“First things first. Their chips. Runners always remove them, except we get alerts when done so.” He pauses. Of course you’re aware of the misdemeanor charge for that, right?” You nod in a “yes” gesture.

“Good. So, first they remove the chips. Second, they completely vanish. No one sees them for good and has no knowledge of where they are. It’s like they never existed, right? Families, friends, co-workers or whoever they know don’t see them anymore.”

You nod again, catching along. “Mmhmm.”

“Then, a missing persons report is filed. Either by a relative or a close friend. With that being said, it only makes sense that Jungkook and Jimin would be close together at least. I mean surely if Mrs. Park filed a report with Mrs. Jeon then couldn’t they both have known each other? Or at least had some knowledge of the relationship their sons had with one another? And again, the chips. Surely, they were in this together, and there’s not one part of me that doubts it.”

You take a deep sigh, soaking this information in, “Makes sense.”

“Look,” he says, while moving closer to you, stuffing his hands in his pockets. You gaze upon him, admiring the beauty mark on the left side of his top lip. His chocolate waves crown his face.

“What I’m trying to say is- If you find one of them, chances are you’ll find the other. Just… please be careful, ____. If these guys can suddenly vanish off the grid without a trace, who knows what else they’re capable of?”

Meanwhile, Jimin barges into a hideout on a rooftop (now part of an abandoned building) far into the city, but enough distance from prying eyes. He’s panting, out of breath, sweating and bent over as he removes his earpiece, swiping the perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand. He runs his fingers through his jet, black strands. The sun slightly scorched his once pale cheeks, resulting in a rosy, pink shade.

“Fuck!”

Namjoon removes his headset and arises from his seat in the area that he and his mates have labelled as “coms,” having hacked into the city’s surveillance system.

“Good job, Phoenix. Water?” He asks, while offering Jimin a sip of his bottled water, before downing it completely.

“Fuck, no. I almost fucking died!” Jimin replies, still panting.

“Relax. You’re alive, aren’t you?” Namjoon retorts nonchalantly.

He crushes his plastic bottle and lunges it toward Jungkooks slumped figure over the couch nearby. He grunts in response, jerking up in his sleep. Being on the run for the past 5 years has only caused him to be as alert as a hawk.

“You’re up next, Falcon.” Jungkook shakes his head, gaining consciousness of his surroundings again. His black tank top and white nylon sweats having stuck to his form. His milk, chocolate strands blanket his face as he sits up, rubbing his eyes. The faint sunlight helps to awaken him from his slumber, as he covers his eyes to adjust to the sunrays. Jimin, who now has gained his breath back, flings his earpiece at Jungkook.

“Blue lights are heavy today. Watch your ass, huh?” With that, Jungkook stretches upward while placing the earpiece on. On his way towards the tiny kitchen area, Namjoon keys into the channel.

“Thunderbird for Falcon.” Jungkook gulps his banana milk and returns the carton to its place in the fridge. Wiping his mouth to rid the milk residue, he responds, “Go for Falcon.”

“I’m sure you probably don’t want to hear this. But it’s time for a test run.”

Jungkook is silent, yet internally screaming. He hates test runs. Who doesn’t though?

“I know what you’re thinking. I’ve told you before that one time won’t count. But, I need to calculate your momentum, and it helps tremendously to compare to your previous test runs.” Jungkook wasn’t worried about speed, but more so about his body. The last time he’d done a test run, he had completely passed out from overworking his body. Namjoon couldn’t leave the hideout, given that blue lights were everywhere and he didn’t want to risk not having anyone watching over the place. Luckily Jimin was already out for a run, and decided to take a detour to rescue his best friend. But, Jungkook does not like to fail. In fact, he despises it. He’s afraid that he’d fail. Again. He takes a deep breath.

“I know you can do it. The advantage now is that you actually got rest.” Jungkook couldn’t help but nod in agreement. He knew the last time he was going non-stop and being the stubborn bunny he is, Namjoon warned him more than once that he’d burnout sooner or later. But that’s the conflict with Jungkook. He grew complacent of being on the run constantly. It’s his life now; he hates the society he lives in and refuses to live according to the systems’ standards.

“Copy that, Thunderbird.” Jungkook responds, his arms and hands flexing, veins popping, as he slips on his neon red fingerless gloves. He pulls the straps of his black mask over and behind his ears — completely concealing most of his face.

Namjoon smiles in response, “That’s what I like to hear! Let’s bring that energy to the test, Falcon.”

Back at the station, you step out of your formal addression towards your boss and slip, “Hobi, I’ll be fine.”

“I know, I just can’t see myself losing you. You know how much you mean to me, right?” He asks, while reaching his hand towards your cheek with the intent to caress you but your reflexes immediately catch on, and you turn the opposite direction while muttering under your breath, “You know that we can’t-”

“I know. Sorry.”

A brief moment of silence shares the space between you both. Hoseok Jung, or as your recent pet name for him: Hobi, is not only the police captain of the Python Police Department, but currently your main squeeze as well. At least, that’s what you’d like to think. You can’t quite pinpoint what “this” with him is, given that neither of you made it official yet or set any boundaries. Which resulted in this continuous cycle of confusion on where you stand in this said “situationship.” But you don’t probe him, instead you just go with the flow and see where things lead. The only major conflict is that no one at the station should know about your doings. Or else there would be major consequences to face. You suppose that’s why Hoseok is the way he is with you. Maybe you’re nothing but a fling to him. Although some of the things he says deem otherwise.

“Last I heard, his street name is Falcon.” Hoseok skims through a folder on his desk that contains numerous papers, all to what you assumed held important information, then he pulls one out.

“I have a list of coordinates for locations where security cameras are installed and picked up high runner activity. Check those out and see if there are any leads. If no luck, go out and canvas witnesses on the street.” You nod in agreement, gathering your belongings to head on your way when suddenly you feel Hoseok’s grasp on your wrist. You immediately turn your gaze towards him, eyes blown wide as saucers.

“Please, be careful. Call me when you make it to the first and last location.” You eye his grip on you and snatch away quickly, regaining your composure.

“I will,” you respond, while slipping out of his office to leave the building.

On the rooftops, Jungkook gets into position. Staring ahead of himself, he takes a deep breath, awaiting Namjoon’s marker. A tiny droplet of sweat drips down the right side of his face, trailing down to his neck.

“On your mark. Ready.” Jungkook takes another deep breath. The sun suddenly becomes beyond its warm state, at this point, it’s scorching. His palms are damp. The black of his tee absorbs the city’s heat.

“Set.”

His mind goes racing in a million different ways. It was strange that at this moment, his mother crosses his mind. He wondered if she was okay. But, he couldn’t risk seeing her. Exposing himself. Then blue lights would find out, and   he’d be done. For good.

No, can’t risk it. No matter how much it hurts.

Since the age of 18, Jungkook called the rooftops his home. Some part of him felt selfish for only thinking of himself and leaving his mother behind. But he knew she would only scold him for rebelling against the system. Therefore, it was imperative that he left. For months, he and Jimin elaborated an escape — consistently backtracking and fixing any errors in their plan.

Unfortunately, plans don’t always go as planned and being just a couple of high school kids, Jungkook and Jimin hadn’t fully thought out the whole “where would we bunk” deal. But, all changed when they reached the rooftops. Although the first two years were literal Hell. Probably part of the reason Jungkook had become too exhausted at the end of it all. It was horrid to run non-stop, stability not being an option. Jungkook and Jimin had several quarrels with other runners. It became a cycle that Jungkook grew weary of:

Getting accepted into a hideout → Developing trust with other runners → Everything feels comfortable now →  Someone does something to show their true colors (Runners are out to get each other, despite the consequences. Whether the reward is for money, power, or maybe even freedom) → Jungkook and Jimin realize they can’t trust other runners → In conclusion, they flee → The process repeats

That is, until they met Namjoon. At first, he resisted. He previously had one roommate before that betrayed him, just as other runners betrayed Jimin and Jungkook. He thinks of him sometimes, and he’ll never forget his name. Yoongi Min, who goes by Firebird. Blue lights offered Yoongi a deal: to persuade Namjoon into a trap, at a disclosed location, in return for clearing his own name of all criminal records — freedom. Yoongi had been Namjoon’s roommate for four years, eventually growing close and becoming trustworthy of one another. Even coining each other’s names together, as a team. He always thought he’d take over the city of Python with Yoongi. Thus, that’s why Namjoon took Jungkook and Jimin in; because he saw them as himself and Yoongi, knowing that he would have wanted someone else to do the same for him and his once good friend.

“Go.” And with that, Jungkook powers forward leading with one goal in mind: Fast.

“I want you to head straight as far as you can. Got it?”

“Copy,” Jungkook slips. He starts at a steady pace, sliding under pipes connected to cooling fan systems, and vaulting over fences being sure to avoid high voltage ones. However, his velocity decreases when doing so. Namjoon takes note of that.

“Try to keep a linear direction as much as possible. Jump to the next building, using the metal pipe as a pole.”

Jungkook makes an estimate on how fast he should run to land onto the pole that’s adjacent to the rooftop of the building he’s currently on. He backs away about two meters and plants his feet on the ground, getting into position. His body exerts force and within seconds, Jungkook leaps from the rooftop. His heart dropping to his stomach, silently praying that his calculations were correct; and within seconds he lands onto the metal pole, his toned biceps clinging on for life. The leather gloves he wears grant a better grip on the surface, as he pulls himself upward, finally reaching the rooftop.

“Good job, Falcon. Keep pushing!”

Jungkook heaves, but knows he can’t stop now. He continues to scan his surroundings, taking in the view of the city from his vantage point. The sun still beams within the distance. Glass buildings towering the city, camera drones and lightweight super-jets scattering the sky.

No time for distractions.

Jungkook continues on his path as instructed by Namjoon. Lightly jogging, he rapidly picks up his pace until he takes a quick glance to his right and something catches his eye: a security camera, hanging below a billboard on the current building he stands on. He treads forward, and notices a blue light on the camera that blinks rapidly. He sticks his middle finger up towards the object and makes a swift turn to walk away when suddenly he stops dead in his tracks.

You push open the door to the rooftop access, finally having reached the top of the corporate office building of Cobra Enterprises, the biggest conglomerate in the city. To your surprise, on your left, there stands a man with doe-like eyes and lengthy, coffee-colored strands concealing his face. Your mouth flew agape, realizing that this is your first encounter ever with a runner — his neon red gloves serving as evidence.

“Falcon, what’s going on? I’m picking up a blue light within your perimeter,” Namjoon keys in. Jungkook says nothing, simply eyeing your form. He’d never been in love, and it wasn’t as if he’d recognize love even if it were standing right in front of his face with a big sign that said: “Hey! It’s me. I am love.” It was your essence that gave him an odd feeling. A feeling that intrigued him for some strange reason. But then you flashed that shiny PPD badge, which glistened in the sun, and it caught his attention — instantly sending a wave of discouragement throughout his heart.

“I’m Detective ____ with PPD,” you slip.

“Abort the test run! Get the hell out of there!” Namjoon commands on the other end of Jungkook’s earpiece. You attempt to step closer to the man, but he raises his hand up.

“Don’t come any closer.”

You shake your head, “It’s okay. I-I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to talk, okay?” You reassure while gradually lifting your hands up in the air, as if surrendering to him. He scoffs, obviously not impressed by your coy tactic.

“A blue light wanting to talk? Nah, don’t think so,” he spits while clenching his fists and backing away.

“No, please! I-I-” You suddenly become tongue-tied, as the man evidently runs away out of your sight, leaving you behind. Frozen in place.

That asshole.

Your cell rings conveniently at the right moment.

— Hobi ❤️ [Incoming Call]

You swipe to answer, and can’t even get a “hello” out before Hoseok starts on his shit again.

“Goddammit, ____! I told you to call me when you got to your first location.” He sounds furious, as if you’re his pet on a leash.

“Okay, dad!” You retort, clearly annoyed with him in this moment as you make your way down the exhausting flight of stairs inside the building.

“You know what-” Hoseok runs his fingers through his waves. “My place. 30 minutes.” The sound of a click on the line indicates that he hung up, leaving you with a frustrated temper.

Jungkook storms into the hideout, snatching his mask off of his face. Namjoon rips his headset off, visibly pissed.

“You wanna tell me what the hell happened back there?”

Jungkook scoffs, currently not up for anyone’s shit, as he trails to the fridge to grab his carton of banana milk yet again. Namjoon rolls his eyes while shaking his head. Jungkook releases his lips from the carton and slips, “Nothing.”

The sound of Namjoon’s tongue clicking echoes through the space, “Bullshit! You know our code, and you did NOT follow!”

With his back, turned Jungkook takes a deep huff, cheeks on fire. Jimin silently creeps nearby and coyly chimes in,

“See a blue light, call it a night. Don’t take flight, and you’ll put up a fight.”

“That’s right, Phoenix. We do NOT stick around once a blue light is within our sight. We take flight. Is that understood?” Namjoon probes with a stern tone, directing towards Jungkook.

The youngest turns face forward, with a clenched jaw and jutted chest. He says nothing, clearly testing the eldest. Namjoon steps forward and closes the gap between one another, so close that their noses nearly touch.

“Is that understood?” He inquires, his voice a few octaves lower. Jungkook pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue before breaking.

“Copy.”

“Get your shit together, Falcon. We’ll pick this up tomorrow.” Namjoon pulls away and brushes past Jimin, heading out of the kitchen. Infuriated, Jungkook lunges the now empty carton toward the wall ahead of him and also brushes past Jimin, who grasps his wrist in time to halt him. A look of worry spreads across Jimin’s face.

“Come on, Kook. You know Thunderbird. He’s just trying to protect us. It’s like… his job.”

Jungkook stays silent, thinking if he would ever get to see your innocent face again. Jimin nudges his arm to grasp his attention.

“You do know that you can talk to me, right?” He reassures with a promising expression. Jungkook simply nods and walks away, leaving Jimin worried. He knows when something is wrong with his best friend. He can feel it. But he also knows that Jungkook is a tough cookie, and it will take time for him to finally crack.

Meanwhile, Jungkook locks himself in his room — having confined himself completely from the world even if it was just for a few hours. How could he be so stupid? Why couldn’t he just talk to you like you wanted? Maybe you were a good person. At least that’s what he assumed, considering your beautiful face.

No. Snap out of it!

He can’t trust anyone. It’s for his own good. As the sun sets, he peeks through the glass window in his room to soak in the view of the city. Streams of pink, yellow, and blue paint the evening sky. If only he’d introduced himself to you, maybe he would feel a slight less pain in his chest. It was something Jungkook craved that he’d never gotten yet.

Intimacy.

Hoseok is frustrated; he runs his fingers through his hair for what has felt like the millionth time today.

“What’s gotten into you, huh?” He asks with a dark, lustful feel in his eyes. You gaze at him in complete silence.

“Can’t obey me anymore or what?” He lets out a frustrated sigh while gripping your hips.

“Oh you’re asking for it, huh?” He coos while mustering up the idea to tickle his way into getting a response from you. You break the silence, the sound of your laughter filling up his penthouse. Giggles and gasps for breaths emit from you, a sound that Hoseok thinks he could hear for the rest of his life and never grow tired.

“Oh my-! S-stop!”

And like a light-switch, he abruptly stops. His hands falling down to your sides, gripping your hips again. He gazes into your stare for what feels like an eternity. That familiar beauty mark on his lip is your favorite sight. He notes your eyes landing on his lips for too long, and he takes the opportunity to inch forward and meet yours.

He tastes like coffee — the kind you have in the morning before heading out to the station. The kind you’re used to sipping while reading emails at work or making phone calls. Or even the kind you order from your favorite coffee shop where you first met him and continue to meet up with him there to discuss anything work related.

Your lips soften against his, as his softens against yours. You’re not even sure how that is possible. Physics? Maybe.

However, the thought of your relationship with Hoseok crosses your mind. And  before you could even think twice about what to do, with his tongue literally down your throat, you unexpectedly shove him lightly. His eyebrows furrow in response, concerned if he’d done something wrong (when he could swear you like french kissing, considering you both do it all the time, and he remembered you mentioned one moment how much you like to do so).

“What are we? What is this?” You blurt out. Hoseok’s expression makes you instantly regret asking him. He pulls himself away from you completely to pace back and forth with his hand on his hip, shaking his head. Your gaze drops to the floor, feeling like such shit for bringing it up. But you’d be damned if he made you feel bad, because you have to know. For your own sake. Your own sanity.

“Are we really doing this right now?” He asks while sitting down on the leather loveseat.

That’s it. Something in you snaps.

“Hoseok!” You screech, gaining a wide-eyed stare from him.

“We’ve been fucking for over 2 years! What did you think? That I was just going to keep floating around, letting you stuff me every fucking week and not say anything about it?”

You are a panting, hot, and frustrated mess on the verge of tears from how upset you are. Hoseok watches your riled up figure, and he can’t seem to bring words together. He’s had a long day and wants nothing more than to release his stress into you either on his bed, or this loveseat, or maybe the kitchen counter if you can’t make it to his bedroom. But your emotions are clouding the atmosphere, and it’s something he can’t handle.

“I don’t know what you expect me to say,” he states dryly.

You felt like someone just hammered a nail into your heart. Your mouth flies agape, sucking in a breath to contain yourself from crying in front of his eyes.

“Why can’t we just fuck and not go through all of this? What do we need a label for anyway? It’s not like anyone at the  station is going to find out.” He shrugs, emitting a chuckle paired  with a nonchalant vibe.

Drip.

And then a tear fell down your cheek, prompting yourself to march out the front door and never look back. Clutching your crossbody, your leather chelsea boots click against the hardwood floor. Before Hoseok had the chance to grab you by the wrist, you were gone. You continued strutting down the hall, better yet lightly jogging to get as far away as possible as quickly as possible. Your fingers find placement on the ↓ button for the elevator.

Ding.

The moment the elevator doors shut is when the tears came streaming down   your cheeks, like a waterfall. You knew all along it was a bad idea to get involved with Hoseok. You’re sentimental and have always been so. “Catching feelings” while having weekly sex with him was bound to happen eventually. All in all, you could say that you saw the end coming, but at least 70% of you wanted things to be different than what they were. As your mother would call it, “living in la la land.” For the remainder of  the night, you comfort yourself on your couch, stuffing your face with leftover chocolate-covered strawberries and sipping champagne. All while venting on the phone to your childhood friend and updating him on the current situation with Hoseok.

“Ah. I’m sorry, noona. Hobi is a real ass sometimes, you know?”

You take another sip from your wine glass, “Ugh. That’s the thing!” You pause, popping a strawberry in your mouth, “I knew it. And yet, I still fell for him. I’m just horrible, a mess.”

“Don’t say that,” he replies with a yawn following his response.

“It’s true, Yoongi! I’ve literally been letting him in this whole time and not standing my ground. It’s so pathetic of me,” You sigh with a frown upon your face that Yoongi obviously cannot see.

“Wow. He was that good, huh?” You roll your eyes just thinking about it, “Ugh, yes! Don’t even remind me!”

“Well-” yet another yawn cutting him off again, “Just take your time, you   know? I’m sure it won’t be that easy to get over him. But eventually, it’ll happen.” Your eyes begin to tear up again, “You really think so?”

Yoongi hesitates for a brief moment, “No, I’m just trying to get you off the phone so I can go to sleep.”

“Fuck you, Yoongi Min.” His cute giggle lifts your mood in a contagious way — making you laugh out loud along with him.

“You’ll  be fine, ____. Really.” A tear finally drops down your face. This is why you love Yoongi, and why you’d been friends with him almost your entire life. He’s someone you can trust, always having been there for you. It didn’t matter the distance you were from each other, or how long it had been since you contacted one another, you both would pick up right where you left off.

“Goodnight, Yoongs. Love you.” His gummy smile appears as he replies, “Love you too, ____. Goodnight.”

After hanging up with Yoongi and having your belly full enough of strawberries and wine, your thoughts continuously play over the events of today, making you realize how drained you are. Then the image of the runner from earlier crosses your mind. God, was he the hottest man you’ve seen in awhile, at least from what you could see due to his mask covering most of his face. But his lengthy strands paired with his toned biceps and tall, lean figure are what got you. The sun bounced perfectly on his tanned, body, displaying a gorgeous shimmer of sweat he was drenched in, kind of reminded you of your fave Krispy Kreme glazed doughnuts.

His eyes were bright and beautiful, and you’ll never forget the way he was startled when you approached him — like a deer in headlights. You wonder what else was “hot” about him that you didn’t get a chance to see. Okay, maybe it’s just the wine talking. Some part of you wished you could have at least asked what his name was, but he wasted no time in evading you. Even though you felt a slight sting  in your heart, you couldn’t blame him for leaving. After all, you’re a cop and he’s a runner. Of course he’d “run” from you.

Hoseok is sound asleep until an alarming tone from his cell phone startles him from his slumber.

— Yoongi Hyung [Incoming Call]

“Shit.” Hoseok lets out a frustrated sigh before answering. His tired, raspy voice is heard from the other side of the line. “Hyung, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know you tell me.” Yoongi deadpans.

Hoseok sighs in response. Pulling away from his phone to read the time: 12:42 AM. He clenches his fist and runs his fingers through his messy mane.

“What do you want, Yoongi?”

“I need you to look into someone for me. Get ____ on the case,” Yoongi demands with a slight hint of desperation.

Seething, Hoseok retorts, “Fucking hell. Why couldn’t you wait until the morning to tell me?”

“It is morning, and before you step into the station I need to make sure it’s the first thing on your agenda. I need this done asap.”

Hoseok remains his composure on the outside but is internally screaming.

“I don’t know, Hyung. I can’t guarantee it. I have ____ on the Jungkook Jeon case, and I may have her finally close it. Hopefully-” Yoongi scoffs, on the other side, clearly not happy.

Hoseok adds, “What’s this all about anyway? And what do I get for it?”

“Did you forget who’s the eldest here?” A moment of silence falls into the phone.

“Didn’t think so,” Yoongi continues. Hoseok feels small. He always does when being confronted by Yoongi.

“I’ve cut a deal with Cobra Enterprises. The company will have a meeting tomorrow with PPD about a new project to take place. I want you to look into a guy. I’m sure you remember him. Namjoon Kim.” The youngest sighs yet again. He remembered Namjoon from his rookie days, and he also recalled Yoongi had failed to go through with the set-up.

“Press ____ to look into his file and continue there. Drop her from the Jungkook Jeon case.” Hoseok’s mouth flies open in shock at Yoongi’s request.

“Are you fucking kidding me? How the hell am I supposed to-”

“Do not try me! Now, you’ll do as I say without giving me any shit, understand?” Yoongi retorts, his voice now at a higher volume than before. His deep violet-haired, skinny stature dressed in a purple v-neck, paired with a black leather jacket and leather jeans. He paces back and forth, flipping a pen between his slender fingers. The visible ink of his black, circuit board tattoo trails from his neck down to his right shoulder and ends at his wrist.

“Yes, Hyung,” Hoseok states, his voice barely above a whisper now.

“Get her on the case for Namjoon and find out where he is! Tell her he goes by the name Thunderbird. These rooftops are massive. Viper and I cannot find him alone. Having her would help tremendously. Besides… she’s smart, and I’m sure she’d be able to get to him before I do,” he continues while staring at the view of the city from his hideout.

Hoseok lets out with a tinge of annoyance in his reply, “Fine, fine. Alright!”

“Don’t do this, and I will tell ____ about our little secret. I’m sure she wouldn’t be too happy about that either. Especially not now.”

“You better not say shit to her, you hear me?” Hoseok works up.

“Get the job done, Hobi.” Yoongi ends the call.

No, you could not find out. At least not like that. Hoseok doesn’t want you to know about the little fling with his hyung. He knows Yoongi would do anything to destroy the side thing Hoseok has with you, since he’s jealous. He wants Hoseok all to himself.

The ringing of your cell frightens you out of your sleep. Your eyes land onto your clock placed beside you on your nightstand. You silently curse whoever dares to awaken you at this ungodly hour of 3:18 AM. Surely it was none other than Hoseok Jung. You dared to not answer, but part of you needed to if you wanted to keep your job. You were slightly worried his calling may be job-related anyway. At least you hope it is, because you can’t think about how he’d hurt you the previous day. Your exhausted form answers the call with a swipe.

“Hello?”

“I’m here.” Your eyebrows furrow as you scan your bedroom in the moonlight. Your right hand finds it’s way to rub your eyes.

“What?”

“Just open the door. I’m here.”

You stay on the line, and groggily drag yourself out of bed to head beeline for the front door of your apartment. Through the peephole, there stands Hoseok with his iPhone to his ear and his head hanging low. You unlock the door and tiredly pull it open to finally meet eyes with the bastard. Yesterday’s events flash through your memory, and you’re drawn back into the mood you were in before you knocked out for what seemed like only ten minutes.

With furrowed brows you question, “Hoseok what do y-”

His lips crash with yours, cutting you off completely. Your hand that once held your phone, now wraps around his neck, easing him closer to you. His firm hands now grip your hips, flushing you to his body entirely. His plushy lips play with yours, naturally gliding and smoothing against their own accord. The bitter taste of coffee lingers on his lips, to what you assumed he more than likely had a cup of Joe before arriving to your apartment. He breaks the kiss to stare into your eyes, caressing your cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you,” he pauses for a beat, “It was wrong. I was wrong.”

A low sigh escapes your lips. Hoseok cups your cheeks, and gives you a small peck. You pull away to take hold of his hand and lead him into your apartment, closing the door behind the two of you. You find yourself sitting on the side of your bed, with Hoseok joining you. He rests his cool palm on your warm, exposed thigh, courtesy of your pajama shorts. Your fingers find placement on top of his hand. He stares into your gaze, guilt settling deep within his gut. Part of the reason he’d always treated you like nothing is due to his feelings for Yoongi. He likes this thing with you: being able to have you whenever he wants, do whatever he wants to you, and treat you how he wants.

It’s almost like he owns you, except he doesn’t. But he likes the complacency of the situation, knowing that you’ll always be there when he needs you. Yet he knows it’s selfish and such a narcissistic quality about himself, but he wants what he wants and cannot stop his actions. It’s this never-ending dilemma he’s stuck in of leading you on or admitting his feelings for you. Because all in all, Hoseok wants to “have his cake and eat it too.” On the other hand, Yoongi stands on the sidelines — waiting for the day he & Hoseok could be together. And now it’s worse since you’ve poured your feelings out to him. Although for Yoongi, it’s everything he’s ever wished for.

The luminance from the moonlight glows throughout the space that’s your room. Hoseok shivers slightly from your touch, the warmth of your fingers encases his cold, slender ones. You both sit in silence for a moment, just taking in each others presence. You attempt to gather your own thoughts of why Hoseok couldn’t wait to apologize until the next day you both work.

“Hoseok.” You let out, a yawn following afterwards.

“Hm?” He responds while glancing into your eyes with those gorgeous brown   eyes, his strands gracefully dressing his forehead in that familiar middle-part style.

“Cuddle?” You ask sheepishly why reaching your arms out towards him, offering your warmest embrace. His lips curl up into that stunning smile, making his eyes shut instinctively. He removes his bomber jacket and shoes, then climbs into the opposite side of your bed. You follow suit and pull your duvet over the two of you. Your arms naturally wrap around his abdomen, and  you curl up into his chest. Admiring the familiar scent of Hoseok’s  fresh, linen garments with a hint of some expensive cologne. He smells so clean, as a man should. It sends you into a trance. Your ear rests on top of his chest, growing familiar with the rhythm of his heartbeat. And it’s just enough to put you to rest.

—

The sun peaks from the skyline, beginning its journey to  rise. Deep orange and yellow hues paint the sky. A gleaming ray of light shoots throughout the hideout the three men share together. Namjoon is the first to awaken, his beach-sand colored hair ruffled in a slight mess. With a bare upper body and boxer briefs, he slips from his mattress on the ground to head for the washroom — his disheveled state still working to fully awaken. After finishing up his morning routine of brushing his teeth, washing his face, and grooming his hair, he slips on black nylon sweatpants and a red fitted tank, displaying his black, circuit board ink on his left forearm snaking up to his left shoulder and neck. He stares at his own figure in the mirror, silently hating himself for letting Yoongi talk him into getting a matching tattoo.

If only he’d knew where Yoongi’s loyalty really lied, he’d  never would have given in to him. A slight pang in Namjoon’s chest  resurfaces. He missed Yoongi, a lot more than he wanted to. Because it was more than “friendship” with him. He loved Yoongi and wanted to confess his feelings for him, but he was afraid his confession would lead to corruption of their friendship. He was also afraid of Yoongi’s “distant” personality. He was for sure it would have ruined them, even if their friendship blossomed into something more. Unfortunately, after Yoongi became a traitor in Namjoon’s eyes, he couldn’t stop the feelings he had for him and continues to have. It was  ever since that one night they’d both had a little too much soju that things led from one thing to another. He relishes in the memory of Yoongi’s lips pressed against his.

The lingering, sweet taste of alcohol on his lips is the fondest moment Namjoon has of Yoongi. He had never been more aroused by anyone else ever, and Yoongi had just that effect on him. One thing led to another, and before he could process what had happened, the next morning he’d awaken to the sight of Yoongi naked and wrapped around his chest. Ever since, the entire dynamic of their friendship had changed. Yoongi hadn’t spoken of the previous night, and neither had Namjoon. He’d never thought that a week later, he would have had no other choice but to kick out the one person he had grown to trust for so long. He never forgets the look in Yoongi’s eyes. Puffy, red, and swollen from the tears he’d cried.

Namjoon  had never seen him this shaken up before, considering his inability to show his feelings. But he believed Yoongi had done all of this to  silently punish him for sleeping with him. Liquid forms in Namjoon’s  eyes as his mind goes in circles consistently, playing the events over and over in his mind — reminiscing on the presence of who he thought would have eventually been his lover. While brewing a cup of coffee, Namjoon readies himself for the day. Upon arrival to the coms room, he seats himself at his desk, an arrange of five monitors on display. The longer one in the middle is the portal to log into Thunder, a tracking software he’d created, with Yoongi, that’s designed specifically to pinpoint a runners’ location. Of course, he had re-programmed said software to track Jungkook and Jimin’s location whenever they’d go out on a run, which is why they use an earpiece that has a tracker installed.

For safety purposes, he’d also designed it to detect when other runners are nearby while also detecting blue lights in the surrounding area. Each runner is part of a team that is represented by a color on the “rainbow spectrum,” and each color has a leader. Namjoon being the leader of Red, and along with Jimin and Jungkook representing the color. Although, the only colors from the spectrum that have been confirmed are: Orange, Yellow, and Green — while Blue and Violet have yet to be discovered. In the meantime, Jimin tosses in his sleep as though he’s experiencing a nightmare. Something within his slumber startling enough to jerk him awake, his eyes blown wide and his lips parted dramatically. His chest rising up and down as he trails his fingers through his onyx strands that fall back  onto his forehead. His arms find their way up to block the sunlight from his window that forces to blind his eyes.

His body is warm, and after sitting up completely, he realizes his white tank is soaked in perspiration. Jimin snarks at the cold sweat clinging to his upper body. Rolling out of bed, the cool tile below him makes his body shiver. He pulls his top over his head and off, flinging it to the corner of his room. His toned upper body glistens with sweat, covered with the tattoo “Nevermind” on the left side of his abdomen. Jimin rushes to the washroom to start up the glass shower.

He hops in immediately; cool streams of water race down his fit figure, drenching his black strands and gradually decreasing his body temperature. He runs his index finger across the inside of his wrist where another tattoo is displayed: 13. A small grin crosses his face, thinking of the  time he’d met Jungkook when he was 13, how they’d instantly bonded, and how far they’ve come in their lives. The number also resembling the day of his own birth. But Jimin’s smile fades, after realizing the dream he had. He knew something was wrong, because for weeks now he’d been having these nightmares that something bad would happen; everything would change, yet he wasn’t 100% sure how. Even though things were okay now, but he couldn’t help the thought that maybe his gut instinct was trying to warn him.

Knock x2.

Jimin jumps slightly at the sudden knock, and his gaze snaps up to the bathroom door, “Dude… Gotta pee,” Jungkook’s tired form slips. Outside the door, he can barely keep his eyes open — having almost pulled an all-nighter, listening to music and lifting weights in his room. Jimin swings the door open, with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Scared the shit out of me, you know?” Namjoon arrives in the hallway.

“Morning, boys! We’ve got a long day ahead of us. So, get some breakfast and meet me in the coms room when you’re done.” Jimin nods and adds coyly, “Ay ay, captain!” Jungkook groans in response. On the other side of the city, the smell of eggs and bacon sizzling in a pan acts as a cue for Hoseok’s awakening. His arms stretch out, releasing  the tension that’s settled in them. He checks his phone for the time  only to find missed calls and texts, from none other than his hyung.

— Yoongi Hyung [5:02 AM] just wait till u come home. u will fucking get it!!!

— Yoongi Hyung [4:59 AM] are u fucking kidding me… i come here for dick and this is what i get? where tf are u???

— Yoongi Hyung [4:57 AM] whatever. coming in with the spare key u gave me.

— Yoongi Hyung [4:56 AM] u ass. i’ve rung the doorbell a thousand times already. are u that asleep?

— Yoongi Hyung [4:54 AM] Missed Call (x2)

Shit.

“Good morning sleepy head!” Hoseok jumps slightly at your cheeky greeting of you standing at the doorway of your room.

“I made breakfast if you’re hungry. I’ll be heading out in a few to   follow  up on any leads I can get with the Jungkook Jeon case.” Hoseok takes a huge gulp before spilling, “Yeah… About that.” He drags, while slipping out of bed. His hands find purchase on your waist, pulling you closer.

“I uh-” He pauses for a moment, remembering the threat Yoongi had given him. You stand there, all eyes on him, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m dropping you from the Jungkook Jeon case,” he states rapidly. Your eyebrows furrow, “Why would you do that?” Hoseok sighs, thinking of anything off the top of his head to lie.

“Just-  Leave it to me. I did some digging when you left the station yesterday,”  He continues while slipping his shoes on.

“I want you to look into something else,” You nod for him continue.

“Namjoon Kim. Known as Thunderbird. He’s got a record, but he’s also  been reported as missing just like Jungkook.” Hoseok breaks away from  your gaze for a moment, internally hating himself for doing this to you. He knows he’s no good for you.

“Do you still have that list of coordinates I gave you?” He inquires, while simultaneously looking up at you and tying his shoes.

“Mmmhmm,” you simply mutter, watching his form in silence. It is clear that he’s about to leave but you waited  for him to say so. Hoseok grabs his jacket and notices you’re still standing in the doorway. He pauses to slip, “I should get going. I have some errands to run-”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off, the tone in your voice clearly revealing that  no it is not “fine.” You’re slightly upset really, but part of you expected Hoseok to not stay around since you’re convinced that the only reason he’d came to apologize to you was to clear his conscious. And  because, well, he was alone and wanted some form of companionship. Typical, right? Another part of you cringed at the thought you assumed  he’d treat you as if you’re both together, even though you’re not. So, it isn’t abnormal for him to just leave. It’s not like he’s committed to you. Except your heart tells you it’s just not fair. Hoseok doesn’t miss the look of disarray that spreads across your face, due to  his departure. He looks to you before leaving your apartment.

“Maybe I can come by later?” You internally cringe at his request whilst trying to not get your hopes up.

“It’s not a big deal, only if you can! Don’t go out of your way for me. Besides, I’m sure you’re busy.” He hesitates for a brief moment, then awkwardly nods as if slowly trying to process what you said. A feeling deep inside tells him that you know he’s full of shit. Maybe it’s his guilty conscious, but that makes him feel even worse for leaving you on his off day, just to be with Yoongi. The instant you shut the door behind Hoseok, your heart broke. You want to regret getting into this thing with him, but you know it was something you wanted at one point.

Jungkook attired himself in his usual pieces. Black ink tattoos of an  “X” covers just below both of his elbows. His signature three, silver hoops dangle within both of his ears, as he deliberately munches on a protein bar, while standing in the coms room.

“I specifically asked you both to come once you were DONE with breakfast,” Namjoon retorts indirectly towards Jungkook, who is undoubtedly dropping crumbs on the ground.

“Hey, don’t look at me.” Jimin throws his hands up and shakes his head as if to surrender, his jet-black strands swaying about in front of his eyes.

“As I was saying…” Namjoon continues, “I have different tasks for you both.” Jungkook’s eyes stay glued on the eldest. Jimin’s toned arms are crossed, tilting his head to the side.

“Phoenix,” Namjoon tosses a wireless earpiece to Jimin. “I want you to head over to the docks. I’ve been picking up high blue light activity lately in that area.” Namjoon gropes his chin, as if in deep thought. “Check it out and see if there’s anything you could find that’ll tell us why they’ve been so trigger happy lately.”

Jungkook abruptly stops chewing and tunes out after hearing Namjoon’s request. That is why he felt different about you. You didn’t hurt him like most blue lights would hurt runners if they’d ever been caught. That’s the difference.

“Falcon!”

The slight ringing in Jungkook’s ears immensely fades away after he realizes Namjoon is talking to him. His eyebrows rise up, as if silently asking him What? Namjoon removes a black messenger bag he has around himself and tosses it to Jungkook, who almost didn’t catch it due to the crumpled granola wrapper still in his hand and Namjoon’s sudden reflexes.

“Since your little encounter” Namjoon makes the quotation marks gesture with his fingers. “I’m sending you on a fast cash mission. You know the rules.”

Namjoon quirks his eyebrows, as if to emphasize his point. “I’ll be guiding you, but keep your eyes peeled. Your name isn’t Falcon for nothing.” Jungkook shrugs at the audacity.

“When you reach the location, there will be a runner by the name of  Viper waiting there for you. Give him the bag, and safely return back to the hideout without being detected by any blue lights.”

“Copy that.”

Namjoon nods in response, “Oh. Before I forget.” Namjoon reaches toward his glass desk to pull out a black, wireless earpiece.

“I know you’ve been borrowing Jimin’s earpiece since yours broke. So, I made a new one.” Namjoon extends his hand out to Jungkook then snaps away.

“Try not to break it this time, huh? Materials are kind of… limited.”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow and obtains the piece to delicately place in his ear. He places the bag over his head and lets the strap rest on his shoulder, adjusting it to his liking — making sure it’s tight around his torso. Jimin follows and pushes his earpiece in.

Namjoon makes an overly-dramatic clap noise with his hands. “Alright, boys. Let’s get to work!” On their way from the hideout, Jimin stops Jungkook before they proceed to go on their separate ways.

“Hey,” Jimin spills, his eyes now crescent, moon-shaped due to the sizzling sun displayed brightly in the sky. Jungkook replies, “Yeah?”

“Just, uh…” Jimin lingers on for a moment, observing the ambience as if he’s searching  for something. His eyes land back on the youngest, admiring how innocent he is. Jimin loved Jungkook as his own brother, and he’d do anything to protect him. He’s convinced he’d do more than Namjoon.

“Be  careful. Okay?” A tinge of worry oozes from Jimin’s command. He wishes he could just tell Jungkook the dreams he’d been having lately, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to upset him, yet he knows he’d have to tell him sooner or later. Because recurring nightmares that Jimin has are always to some extent: true. It’s been that way for as long as he could remember. The first time he’d experienced it was when he was seven years old. He dreamt the same dream during that time, that his father was caught in a rainstorm and passed away due to a car collision.

The first night he experienced the nightmare, he was afraid; and although he’d warn his parents, all else failed. They thought it was just another bad dream that would pass. A few weeks later, his father passed away due to a DUI car accident. Jimin was devastated, and although he was right all along, he hated when the same dreams occurred because he knew eventually it would no longer be a nightmare — instead a reality.

“Always,” Jungkook answers, while turning around to jog in the opposite direction. Completely unaware of Jimin who’s still left behind and laying eyes on him. An ounce of worry overtakes him, that he misses Namjoon’s calling of his name.

“Phoenix, do you copy?” Jimin snaps back from his daydream,

“Y-yeah. I mean- Copy that. I’m here.” Namjoon keeps track of Jungkook’s location and notices Jimin’s stillness.

“Alright, let’s head west and take it from there. It’s a straight shot.” Jimin starts his run, climbing over fences, sliding under pipes, and running on walls. Namjoon uses the digital map to pinpoint the intended location.

“Looks like the docks will be on the west side of the Cobra Enterprises building.

“Copy that.” Namjoon takes a sip of his now lukewarm, medium, roast coffee.

“Switching to channel two, be right back.” Jungkook sits on the edge of a building, looking below his feet where the grand city of Python seems so tiny. Pedestrians look like ants from his perspective. Moving vehicles give the appearance of toy cars kids play with. The sound of a deep voice keys into Jungkook’s earpiece.

“Thunderbird for Falcon.” Jungkook swings his feet playfully, enjoying the summer weather, “Go for Falcon.”

“You’ll be heading east to The Echidna. Viper will be there waiting for you. Deliver the package to him, and make it back safely. Remember, no blue lights.”

Hoseok turns the key to open the door of his apartment. The sound of the front door closing startles a naked Yoongi, who steps foot into Hoseok’s room with a towel wrapped around him. His soaked, purple strands dripping with water. Hoseok shuffles his jacket and shoes off, yet notices the penthouse is filled with silence. He’d hoped Yoongi had just given up for now and left, but he knew him. He wasn’t going to leave until he got what he wanted.

His fingers glide through his own soft waves, and he treads upstairs to his room. His heart suddenly pumps faster when his eyes land on the back side of Yoongi, who has removed his towel to dry his hair. His pale, porcelain skin glowing and glistening with water and sunshine. Hoseok takes a thick gulp and clears his throat. Yoongi finds Hoseok behind him and gives his signature smirk, “Good morning.” Yoongi drops his towel on the ground and gestures a “come here” motion with his finger, and Hoseok follows.

“Missed me? I know I missed you,” Yoongi caresses Hoseok’s cheek, gazing into his brown irises, his bed-hair adding a nice final touch.

“I’m sorry, I-” Hoseok is cut off by Yoongi’s index finger placed on his lips. He commands, “Just shut up and fucking kiss me already. You owe me. Big time.” Hoseok chuckles before leaning in to wrap his arms around Yoongi, placing his hands along his back, pulling Yoongi flush to his body.

Before heading out to investigate the supposed “Namjoon Kim” case Hoseok urged you earlier to begin, you chose to pay a visit to your favorite chocolatier in the mall, the one that sells your favorite chocolate-covered strawberries. The fresh, cool breeze of the air conditioner blows through your hair as you strut through the front entrance of The Echidna. The chocolate shop wasn’t far from the main entrance, on the entry level so you decided to take your time, casually strolling through the mall. The smell of pretzels, pizza, and other delicious foods filled your senses as you passed by the food court. After a minute more of walking, you reach the shop and realize they are running a promotion: Buy one dozen of chocolate-covered strawberries, get another half off.

Just in time.

On the rooftops, Jungkook blasts over buildings and latches onto pipes, ladders, and other obstacles that help him navigate throughout the environment.

“Thunderbird for Phoenix.” Jimin keys back into Namjoon while taking a break from running.

“Go for Phoenix.” Namjoon tracks Jimin’s location, and notes how far he is from the intended location.

“Good job. You’re on the right path. You should be able to see the front side of the Cobra Enterprises building from where you are.” Jimin scans his surroundings on the east side, and notes the building with a golden, cobra snake symbol. “Yeah, I see it.”

“Good. Continue your normal path and you’ll notice the building will then be on the east side of you.” Jimin nods in approval, “Copy that.”

Yoongi and Hoseok lie in bed together, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Hoseok rests on Yoongi’s chest, drawing circles on his chest with Yoongi’s fingers laced in his strands.

“So,” Yoongi breaks the silence. “So?” Hoseok questions, admiring the soft supple skin under his fingertips.

“Gonna tell me where you were last night?” Just as Hoseok gathered up the courage to respond, Yoongi cuts him off.

“No, wait! Let me guess. With ____,” he states with a dry tone. A tinge of jealousy behind his words. Hoseok turns his head around, facing Yoongi.

“Are we really doing this again?” Yoongi rolls his eyes, pushing Hoseok off of his chest. Hoseok’s eyebrows naturally crease in response.

“Yoongi, seriously?” The eldest says nothing, his back now turned to the youngest, having flipped over on his side.

“What fucking more do you want?!” Hoseok runs his fingers through his hair, his strands falling back onto his forehead. Yoongi keys in on him, with a furious gaze. “Us!” He exclaims, sitting up and easing his way out of bed to slip on his jeans.

“I fucking want us,” He continues, more-so demanding rather than stating. Hoseok takes a deep breath. “You know that I’m working on that-”

Yoongi seethes. “Yeah, and for how long?!” His voice raising with fists clenched on his jeans, zipping them up. “Don’t you fucking get it?” He adds, slipping on his signature, purple v-neck.

“____ is in love with you. How do you just “work on that?” He emphasizes with air quotation marks. Hoseok struggles to answer, leaving his lips parted slightly. A moment of silence falls between the two. Yoongi takes this as a cue of defeat — slipping on his leather jacket.

“Exactly.” He exits the bedroom, leaving Hoseok to ponder in his thoughts, while left in bed naked, regret filling him completely.

Yoongi saunters downstairs and slips on his boots, departing from Hoseok’s loft. He runs his fingers through his hair, while marching down the hallway of the complex. His mind continues to race many miles per hour. His finger presses the button to signal the elevator, and to his surprise, the doors open quicker than he’d expected. He takes a deep breath while stepping in and recounting the moment he’d had with Hoseok.

He hates himself for getting caught up in this situation with him, and now with you involved made matters worse. His heart aches at the thought of what things would be like if he hadn’t traded Namjoon out. Yoongi misses him, but he knows he’d never accept him for who he is and he wouldn’t ever forgive him for what he’d done. A pang in his chest approaches, knowing that he and Namjoon’s future was now long gone, and merely nothing but a dream now. It hurts, and he’s hurt. Which is why he’d pressed Hoseok to get you to look into his case in the first place. He needed this. Needed closure. He misses Namjoon, and there isn’t a day that passes when he doesn’t think of him. He needs him.

You’d chosen the dozen of half milk-chocolate strawberries and half white-chocolate covered strawberries. For both sets. The cashier carefully hands you the paper bag, with two gorgeous arrangements of twelve strawberries in each box. You gracefully exit the chocolatier with the brightest smile on your face, strutting toward the entrance of The Echidna to make your departure from the mall. Jungkook awaits on the rooftops, peering at his surroundings to ensure no one is in sight. And by no one, he specifically means blue lights. His tired being squats down, seating himself on the ground, nearby one of many dome-shaped, skylights that sit behind him. The sun toasting his skin causes him to wipe away the perspiration from his forehead, for what feels like the hundredth time.

Namjoon scans the time on the Thunder portal, noting that the runner should have arrived by now.

“Viper should be within your perimeter. Do you see him?” Jungkook scans his peripheral, but there is no sight of said runner. “No, he’s not here.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow, as he doesn’t see any hint of a runner nearby the mall. The only indicator visible is Jungkook’s location. A red, blinking dot on the map.

“Something’s not right,” He says to himself, shaking his head.

Jungkook feels a presence behind him and just before he could turn around to say something, a deep, baritone voice speaks out.

“Thanks for meeting me here, this was a great spot.” But when Jungkook’s eyes landed on the tall, slender form, his mouth flew agape.

Violet. One of the colors on the spectrum that hadn’t been discovered yet.

There was no way, he thought. No way it was possible. And then the eldest spoke again, realizing Jungkook’s expression.

“Hey. Red, huh? Wait-” He pauses, Jungkook clenches the bag’s strap tightly. “That’s the color where- What’s that leaders name?” His finger taps his chin as if thinking. “It’s right at the tip of my tongue… Sounds like a month?”

Jungkook stops dead in his tracks, his eyes widening. How did he know Thunderbird’s real name?

“How do you know his name?” Kook questions, gripping onto the bag tighter.

“It’s Joon, right? Namjoon! There it is.” Namjoon keys in to double-check on the youngest.

“Falcon, has he arrived yet? I’m still not able to see him.” Namjoon grows hesitant from not receiving a response.

Jungkook abruptly throws the bag at the man standing in front of him and darts in the opposite direction. Viper sprints behind him and tackles the youngest down onto one of the skylights, their figures thumping and sliding against the glass. Viper bangs Jungkook’s head into the glass. Jungkook throws a harsh punch straight to Viper’s nose and tackles him down, his body now caging him in.

“Who the hell are you?!” Jungkook seethes.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Viper grins with a mischievous expression. Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow at his coy remark. His hands grip around his neck, applying pressure with much force.

“Falcon?” Namjoon keys in yet again. Growing suspicious, he continues to scan the area and notes a blinking, blue light that appears to be moving. His assumption is that whoever it is may be inside the mall. “Fuck.”

A tinge of venom seeps from Viper’s words, “Tell that leader of yours, that Firebird is looking for him-” He chokes, Jungkook applying more pressure.

“He better- get ready.. for him too.” He adds with a menacing laugh. Jungkook releases his neck and throws another punch to his face, his knuckles aching as a result. Viper continues to laugh, and manhandles Jungkook. His back falls back onto the delicate material below them. He drives his foot against the side of Jungkook’s abdomen repeatedly.

“Ahhh, fuck!” Jungkook groans, his fists clenching from the pain.

Jungkook forces a kick straight to Viper’s face, grazing his nose with his shoe, causing drips of blood to spill. Jungkook clenches his teeth and tackles Viper down again, and then suddenly.

Crack.

The two men gaze down below them, and witness cracks scattering along the glass of the skylight.

“Shit,” Jungkook slips.

“Falcon!” Namjoon yells into his earpiece.

Viper watches Jungkook’s expression with wide eyes, his lips parting in shock. Jungkook slowly stands on his two feet, removing himself from on top of the eldest and attempts to escape, but with the added weight of being on his feet, the glass shatters into pieces, Viper’s form falls through the skylight, en route to the interior of the mall. Jungkook trips, losing his grip on the edge, his veins popping out as he forces his body back up onto the rooftop.

You fumble in the pockets of your leather jacket to obtain your car keys. Until the sudden sound of shattering glass startles you and out of the blue, an intense cracking, thud-like sound follows by a body falling splat onto the ground level of the mall. The contents in your hands drop in response, and the only melody filling your ears is the screams throughout the entire atmosphere, civilians pushing their way to the nearest exit. A thumping beat resides in your chest, and it’s as if your heart pounds so loud you that the noise suffocates your hearing above everything else. Your mouth falls open, and your instincts tell you to examine from above, where the body initially came from. And then your eyes meet a familiar face; to say you were shocked was an understatement.

There he was. Again. The man you’d seen yesterday. You knew it was him because you remember those eyes, his hair, and that black mask. After locking eyes with you, he immediately vanishes. You glare at the body that lies on the ground, slowly inching toward the male. With shaky hands, you kneel down to feel his pulse under his neck and there’s nothing.

Jungkook charges off the rooftops of The Echidna, adrenaline pumping through his veins like never before. The last thing he needed was for blue lights on his tail. And he saw you. He fucked up again. You saw him, and now there’s nothing he can do to un-do what happened. The sound of Namjoon’s voice resonates within Jungkook’s earpiece. “Falcon! What the hell happened? Did you deliver the package?” Jungkook says nothing, instead, he runs.

Namjoon sighs in frustration.

“I’m here,” Jimin keys in. Namjoon locates Jimin’s location.

“Fuck,” Namjoon replies.

Jimin asks with a hint of confusion, “Did I do something wrong?” Namjoon sighs.

“No, Phoenix. You’ve made it to the destination. I haven’t heard from Jungkook since he arrived at The Echidna, and he isn’t responding.” Jimin’s eyes widen. Oh no, had something happened to him? What if… the dream?

“Wait what? Do you need me to head over there?” Namjoon shakes his head, as if he could see him.

“No! Stay where you are. Just find out what you can find, and I’ll be here. I’ll handle it. Over and out.”

Jimin’s heart drops. He hoped Jungkook was okay, for his own sake. He couldn’t lose another person close to his heart.

Namjoon locates Jungkook’s location, and he’s storming like a lightning bolt. He removes his headset to meet with the youngest. Jungkook pants, his chest rising and falling.

“Falcon, what the hell? How many times do I-” Namjoon is cut off by the expression on Jungkook’s face. He stops in his tracks and notices his mask is already off, with tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. His hands are shaking, and his heart is beating rapidly.

“Jungkook?”

Jungkook begins rambling, “I-I don’t know. I don’t know what the fuck just happened!” Tears stream down his cheeks, he feels like he’s on fire, his chest continues to gasp for air. He feels like he’s about to have a panic attack.

“I-It all j-just happened s-so fast, I don’t know what to do.” Namjoon notes his trembling hands; he’d never seen him so worked up before.

“He- he came. And then I saw his purple shirt a-and I panicked, I didn’t know what the fuck to do! I-” Jungkook sobs with an aching pain on his side. “I didn’t know what to do!”

“Okay, Kook just calm down. Follow me into the coms room.” Upon arrival, Namjoon processes what had been said and his eyebrows furrow in reply. “Wait… His shirt? It was what?”

Jungkook makes an attempt to calm himself down, his rosy-tinted cheeks stained with wet tears. “Violet. It’s the last color on the spectrum.”

Namjoon shakes his head, now pacing back and forth. “This could only mean one thing…” He trails off, pondering the fact he discovered a new color on the spectrum. He scrolls through the portal and peers at the map, finding the different colors of the spectrum scattered across the city of Python. Every color except Violet.

“That’s why Thunder couldn’t pinpoint his location. Violet isn’t yet programmed into the software. Which means-”

“Firebird.” Jungkook slips.

Namjoon’s gaze snaps toward him with wide eyes, “Where did you get that name?”

“Viper said it. Firebird is looking for you.” He pauses, to let in a deep breath, “And you’d better get ready.” Jungkook groans in discomfort, a sharp shock of pain shooting through his side. He watches Namjoon’s figure, noticing the startled expression on his face.

No, it can’t be. There’s no way he was looking for him. Even if he was, why? After all this time, why now? And what was it that Namjoon had to prepare for?

And then everything came crashing down. “Shit,” Namjoon spills.

“Who is Firebird, anyway?” Jungkook questions with curiosity. A distinct chattering sound can be heard from Namjoon’s headset.

“Phoenix for Thunderbird! Do you copy?” Jimin chimes in with a slight tinge of frustration and worry clouding his being.

Ignoring Jungkook’s question, Namjoon places his headset back on.

“Go for Thunderbird.”

Jimin sighs in relief, “Oh, fuck. I thought I lost you for a sec.”

Namjoon shakes his head, “What’s going on?”

With a heaving, sweaty chest Jimin states, “We have a problem. A really, fucking, big one.” — his eyes keyed in and widening at the sight of what’s happening at the docks.