#this started out as me practicing drawing heads and naturally it became Zero

[crowrrupt]

Pre-X1 Zero (and X) doodle, and yes I was too lazy to properly draw his hand

"Zero-senpai! I got us ice-cream for a mission well-done!"

"Geez, this rookie is so strange"

[tothemeadow]

A New Year’s gift from me to you!

~*ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ TᗯO*~

warnings: NSFW, semi-public sex

words: 5.1 k

Prologue | Chapter One

-

“Not interested.”

All it takes is those two words, two dreadful words, and Kyojuro’s groaning in disappointment. Tapping his fingers against the chair’s arms, he pushes his lips out in a pout. Giyuu merely rolls his eyes at him, gaze flicking back to whatever is displayed on the computer’s screen.

It had only been a mere suggestion, nothing more. Go out, get some drinks, maybe find someone to take home. Lord knows how much Giyuu needs to get laid; the guy’s stress is palpable, and Kyojuro wants to help his friends however he can. Maybe all it takes is to get his dick sucked, nice and fucking hard. And, if he plays his cards right, have someone clinging onto his arm by the end of the night.

Kyojuro isn’t an idiot, nor is he blind. Giyuu is beautiful, looking like he stepped right out of the pages of some goddamn fairy tale. Hell, even his bank account is real pretty, every single zero making it even more dazzling. What he means is that Giyuu can have anybody if he truly wanted to. The problem is, however, is that a sack of potatoes has more charisma than the poor man. Giyuu isn’t much of a social butterfly, unlike Kyojuro.

It kind of sucks.

“Aw, come on, man,” Kyojuro groans, “let me take you for a night out. You need some time to sit back and relax. Let someone else take care of you.”

“You’re being awfully persistent about this.”

“That’s because I want what’s best for you, duh. You run some bigshot company and need me to explain that to you? What was the point of you traveling overseas for university if you don’t put that knowledge to use?”

With a sigh, Giyuu turns away from his computer and rests his elbows on his desk. Like the rest of his office, it’s a solid piece of modern, expensive style. The wood gleams with the rays of sunlight pouring in through the windows, looking almost too neat to be believable. There’s not a speck of dust in sight. It’s not the first time Kyojuro’s visited Giyuu’s office, but it always amazes him just how clean and immaculate the space is. It really reflects its owner, his simple yet sleek style.

“Kyojuro,” Giyuu starts, threading his fingers together, “you literally told me you wanted me to take someone home.”

At that, Kyojuro smiles. “And what’s your point? You go to some Ivy League school and not partake in some parties? No keg stands? Beer pong? Fucking the brains out of some busty blonde?”

“Not everyone is a certified sex symbol,” Giyuu states coolly. “You don’t see my face on the cover of magazines advertising an article about some upcoming film where I blow everyone to bits and take a dame to bed.”

“Ohohoho, somebody’s getting frisky, I see. That is a sign, my dear friend. You need to get your dick wet and pronto.”

“Don’t belittle me.”

Raising his hands in mock self-defense, Kyojuro flashes Giyuu a knowing smirk. “You’re only proving my point. And if you don’t want to meet somebody random, why not let me hit up someone I know? I can set you up.”

Giyuu scoffs. “No thanks.”

“Oooo, what about Mitsuri or Shinobu-“

“Don’t ever suggest that,” Giyuu hisses. His entire face scrunches, much like he just tasted something incredibly sour.

Bursting into a fit of laughter, Kyojuro leans forward in his seat, hands gripping onto his sides. “Shit, man, I forget how funny you can be sometimes!” Wiping away at his eyes, he sits back, a spare giggle or two escaping from his lips. “Speaking of Mitsuri… I guess she really hit it off with Idris’ girl’s friend.”

Instead of saying anything, Giyuu merely raises an eyebrow. However, he still looks incredibly disinterested.

“Oh, you remember her, don’t you? The one from the party last week? Long legs, nice ass? I think her name was (y/n)?”

At the mention of your name, Giyuu visibly perks up. Heh. Hook, line, and sinker.

“It’s a damn shame, don’t you think? Somebody so fine got nabbed before I even had the chance to make a move,” Kyojuro continues, willing his voice to take on a wistful tone. He sends Giyuu a wink. “She’s a solid ten, don’t you think?”

The movement is so, so subtle, but Kyojuro knows he’s got Giyuu right where he wants him. Giyuu clears his throat, then – a poor attempt at trying to come off as disinterested. “It’s a good thing Mitsuri found someone she likes so much,” he says, completely bypassing the question.

“Mitsuri likes her, alright; likes her even better in bed.”

It takes all of Kyojuro’s willpower not to laugh, it really does. He can practically see the gears turning in Giyuu’s head, the slight tinge of red blooming on the tips of his ears. Jeez, if it takes this much to get Giyuu flustered, then he’d pay to see what would happen if he took Giyuu to a strip club.

“And I’ll tell you what,” he continues, crossing his legs and cocking his head. “Mitsuri’s willing to share her with the rest of us, but only if she wants it.”

“What… What are you talking about? What do you mean by sharing?”

Clicking his tongue in amusement, Kyojuro uncrosses his legs and shuffles forward, just barely sitting on the edge of the chair. “Exactly what it sounds like, Giyuu. Doesn’t that sound nice? Imagine having a pretty thing like that sitting on your lap.”

Again, Giyuu scoffs. “You’re starting to sound like Tengen.”

“But you didn’t say no to what I just put in your head.”

Giyuu grumbles something under his breath, but it’s too low for Kyojuro to understand. No matter; there’s a knock at the door, then, and in pops Giyuu’s personal secretary’s head. A cute boy – Kamado Tanjiro – with honest eyes and a genuine smile. The earrings he wears swings in his lobes. “Tomioka-san, you’re three o’clock appointment is here. Shall I tell them you’re busy?”

“Don’t worry about it, Tanjiro,” Kyojuro says. Drawing himself up to a stand, he smooths out the wrinkles in his pants and salutes Giyuu with two fingers. “Think about what I said, Giyuu. There’s fun to be had.” With a final smirk, he brushes past Tanjiro and leaves.

-

It’s only been a few days since that experience with Mitsuri, but you can already tell that something’s changed. Granted, you still feel a bit odd about the whole situation, but another, darker side of you is pleased. Daki is more than ecstatic to have you as a sugar sister; before, whenever you’d go shopping with her, you’d only help pick out clothing for her since everything was way too damn expensive. Now, though… Now things are different.

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” Daki gushes from where she sits. Perched on a fluffy stool in front of her vanity, she carefully applies a set of false eyelashes. “Like, think of all the fun things we get to do together! Don’t get me wrong, Idris is great, but some of those parties he drags me to can be an absolute bore. If you’re there, well, it’s bound to be more fun! Besides, think of all the yummy treats you’ll get to have…”

From your spot on the couch, you guffaw at your friend’s attempt to hype you up. Carefully, you dip the brush back into the bottle; the nail polish Daki picked out is a shade of pastel pink with pearl undertones. She said Mitsuri really had a thing for pretty pink things, so it was only natural for you to fit that bill, obviously.

“Yes, because stuffing my face with macarons and bubbly is how I want to spend my time,” you say, sarcasm dripping heavily from your words.

“Oh, like you wouldn’t love that,” Daki throws right back at you. “Besides, you wanna be extra sweet for Mitsuri, don’t you? Don’t act like Mitsuri didn’t already have her head stuffed between your legs.”

“Daki!” you shriek. You scramble to catch the bottle of nail polish before it spills all over the place. “Don’t say things like that!”

“Pffft, what for? It’s true, you sneaky bitch! You’ve been glowing ever since your date with her! Did I not tell you that sex with Misturi is the bomb?”

“Okay, okay! You were right!” you exclaim, bursting into round of giggles.

Putting her mascara away, Daki gets up from her spot and moves to where you sit on the couch. Lifting your legs, she slithers in next to you and props your feet on her lap. “Give me that,” she says, taking the nail polish away from you. “Are you and Mitsuri going on a date anytime soon?”

As you nod, a sheepish smile grows on your face. “Yeah – she’s taking me to a theatre tonight, actually. I guess there’s some play she wanted to watch with me.”

“Aww, well isn’t that cute!” Daki chirps, not looking away from the task at hand. “Wait,” she says, suddenly looking up at you, “that means I get to play dress up, right?”

Since being Idris’ sugar baby and all, Daki is no stranger to the luxurious lifestyle and the vast amount of clothes and accessories that comes with. Furthermore, Idris even bought her some swanky apartment, filled with top notch appliances, spacious rooms, and yes, you guessed it – a walk in closet. It’s where you sit now, gazing at the numerous wracks of clothing, the shelves of shoes and purses. It put you in mind of Barbie’s closet, actually, with just how many articles of clothing Daki owns.

You guess you could consider yourself lucky that you and your best friend are the same size. Sure, you’ve shared clothes with each other throughout the years, but once she started her “collection” of designer products, it was game over. You became her personal doll, then, and Daki loved every second of it.

The smile on your face grows at Daki’s excitement. “Who else would I have to pick me out the perfect outfit?” you coo. Daki giggles, then, her green eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Chop, chop,” she says, pushing your feet away and standing up. You take a moment to admire the neatly applied nail polish adorning your toes. “I have the perfect outfit in mind for you, and it’s bound to have Mitsuri drooling all over you!”

“Are you sure about that?” you tease, lolling your head to the side.

Scurrying over to a wrack of dresses (all of which are designer, you’re sure of it), Daki pushes some to the side and grabs one that has you gasping. Powder blue in color, the bustier top and layered tulle skirt almost seem more befitting of a princess rather than yourself. Standing up from the couch, you walk over to her, eager to get a better closer. Lacey pastel flower decorate the top layer of tulle and travel up the bustier, all looking so delicate and sweet. It’s a beautiful dress, that much is for sure.

“I’ll do your hair and makeup, too, okay!” Daki exclaims. She really is too sweet for her own good sometimes.

Later that very evening, you’re sitting in the back of a sleek, luxurious car. Mitsuri sits next to you, looking as perfect as always; with her curled hair pinned high on her head, you’re graced with the elegant slope of her neck, the diamond choker wrapped around her throat. A few curly wisps of pink and green hair frame her face, give her a youthful look. She’s so breathtakingly stunning that it’s leaving your throat dry.

Mitsuri busies herself with messaging someone on her phone – she’s already apologized for letting her work get in the way of your date tonight – but you don’t mind, not when you get to gaze at her lovely being. You’ve already began to familiarize yourself with her brand and the creative looks she specializes in: sultry, elegant, and enough to bring a person to their knees. Perhaps that’s what you tell yourself as your eyes scan over her bare skin; it’s for fashion, of course, not because you’re a shameless pervert.

Still, the choker adorning her throat is a bit too enticing, especially with its delicate chain hanging from its center, nestled between the valley of her voluptuous breasts. Why does she always have to have her cleavage on full display around you? Doesn’t she have any idea how much it makes your brain melt?

“You’re staring,” Mitsuri murmurs, her attention still on her phone. The corners of her mouth curl into a smile. “You’re not distracted, are you, sweets?”

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” you whisper. “It’s not my fault that you’re too pretty.”

A pleasant blush blooms on her face. Sparing a moment to glance at the chauffeur, Mitsuri clicks her screen off and puts her phone back into her purse. “Come here,” she says, her voice dripping with honey. Wrapping an arm around your waist, she pulls you closer, barely brushes her glossed lips against your ear. “You don’t want to start something like that, do you? I don’t want to be rude and ruin the back of this car.”

The giggle in your ear is enough to send shivers down your spine. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean, sweets, is that I don’t want to have someone clean your cum off of this leather.”

You gasp as a wave of heat strikes your very core, wraps around your insides and gives them a good squeeze. “Mommy,” you plead, keeping your voice quiet.

“And your hair and makeup look so nice,” Mitsuri continues. “It’d be a shame to ruin it before you get to show it off.”

Shit, Daki was right. Turns out she knew exactly what she was doing.

“All that matters is that Mommy got to see it,” you purr, leaning more into her warm body. Your eyelashes flutter when her soft breast makes contact with your arm. “It doesn’t matter who else gets to see it.”

The grip around your waist tightens. “(y/n)…”

“Kanroji-san, we’re here,” the chauffeur’s voice suddenly cuts in. It’s enough to snap you back to reality; glancing out the window, you’re greeted with the sight of a brightly lit theatre and a line of patrons waiting at the ticket booth.

“My, my,” Mitsuri says, “looks like it’s going to be a packed house tonight. It’s a good thing I booked some tickets ahead of time, huh?” Turning back to you, she flashes a lovely smile and caresses your cheek. “Have you ever sat in a balcony seat before, darling? You’re going to have a great view.”

“Wait, seriously? Aren’t those super… expensive…?” as you trail off, realization dawns upon you. Of course Mitsuri would buy out some of the most expensive seats in the house – it’s only natural of her to do so. Still, the mere idea of how much they even spent throws your mind in for a loop.

“And your reaction makes it even more special,” Mitsuri purrs. “Come on, let’s go get seated while there’s still time.”

Opening the car door, Mitsuri steps out, and then she promptly turns back to you to help. Linking her arm around yours, she leads you inside the theatre; taking some twists and turns, she leads you up a secluded staircase that, in turn, takes you to the proper balcony. A gasp escapes from your mouth before you can stop it. It’s utterly breathtaking from where you are, the large stage set below you, the sea of people swarming to find their own seats.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Mitsuri asks you as she joins you by the ledge. Setting her elbows on the wall, she looks around the theatre, a thoughtful hum vibrating in her throat. “And just think, sweets, that this is all for you.” Turning to you, she perches her chin in a hand. “I’ll show you so many things that you’ll love, darling. It’s the least I can do.”

“Mitsuri,” you murmur. Swallowing thickly, you push back the creeping urge to cry. How did you get so lucky meeting someone so genuinely sweet?

“Hey now,” Mitsuri continues, still using that honeyed tone, “don’t get sappy. If you start to cry, then I’ll start crying as well!”

Beckoning you over, she takes her seat and watches as you take the one next to hers. The balcony itself is small, with enough room only for three seats. And, as far as it seems, you’ll get to spend the entirety of the play alone with Mitsuri, away from wandering eyes. Hands intertwined with hers, the two of you fall into easy conversation and mild flirting to pass the time. Both of you are practically petting each other’s thighs through your dresses when the door opens; snapping hands away from each other, you turn to see who the unexpected newcomer is.

“Giyuu?”

Coming to an abrupt stop at the sound of his name, Giyuu’s eyes widen. Once he sees it’s only you and Mitsuri, he visibly relaxes, his shoulders slumping. “Um… Hello, ladies. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Drawing around the corner, he stands awkwardly before the empty seat. He offers a polite bow, but you notice right away that his eyes refuse to meet yours.

“This is certainly a pleasant surprise!” Mitsuri chirps, a dazzling smile spreading on her features.

“Tomioka-san,” you say, trying to put his nerves at ease, “please, sit down. I don’t bite.”

Still, Giyuu refuses to meet your eyes, but he does as you say and takes the seat next to you. It may be the dim light of the theatre, but you swear there’s a faint blush on his cheeks.

Okay, time to try this again. “Tomioka-san… I wanted to thank you for last time. For trying to comfort me when I was so obviously out of place at that party.”

At that, Giyuu clears his throat, and then he finally looks at you. Instead of saying anything, though, he merely grunts and nods his head. You offer him a small smile.

Just as you remember, he’s devastatingly handsome, his gaze a cold, steely blade. On the outside, he seems incredibly intimidating; dark hair, black getup, sharp eyes. You know there’s more than what meets the eye, and Giyuu is the epitome of that very concept. The aura surrounding him is calming, reassuring. You barely know the guy, only met him once, but you already like him.

“My, Giyuu,” Mitsuri speaks up, leaning forward in her seat so she can look around you, “don’t you look nice! I always told you that you would look great in black on black, but you never listen to me! Now look at you! You look like you just came straight off a runway! Don’t you think so, (y/n)?”

Mitsuri has a point, of course. Dressed in a black suit, black button up, and black shoes, Giyuu is the textbook definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He almost seems flustered by Mitsuri’s comment; he looks to you, an unreadable glint in his eyes. Slowly, you nod, humming your agreement.

“I think he looks absolutely dashing,” you say, a small giggle following afterwards.

Giyuu’s eyes drift down, skim across your pretty dress, but you notice the way they linger over the bits of your bare skin. Hastily clearing his throat, his eyes flicker back up, the blush on his cheeks darkening the slightest bit. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs. “That color really suits you.”

With a smile, you look away, trying to ignore the excited thumping of your heart. Unbeknownst to you, Mitsuri sends Giyuu a glare, but then it melts away into a knowing look. Giyuu catches her eyes, and a silent conversation passes between the two of them.

Perhaps you should’ve paid more attention to them. You should’ve noticed Giyuu’s lingering stares, the way Mitsuri’s hand stayed on your thigh the entire time. But no, you were so enraptured by the play on the stage, stuck in a state of constant awe by the performer’s exquisite ways.

It’s about three fourths of the way through when Mitsuri finally places her lips against your ear, her warm breath fanning across the delicate skin. “Sweets, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, hmm? You’re ruining the experience for Giyuu.” Confused by what she meant, you begin to turn your head to her, but she quickly stops you in your place. “Now, now, don’t make it so obvious. Instead of watching the show, he’s been watching you. I wonder why that is?” She breaks into a low, sultry laugh. You’ve only seen her act this one once, and that was when the two of you…. Well, you know…

“I noticed the way you were looking at him earlier,” Mitsuri continues. “He really is such a pretty man, isn’t he? Especially dressed in all black like that… It’s almost kind of exciting, isn’t it?” Again, she chuckles. “Now, this is entirely up to you, sweets, but I don’t have a problem sharing.”

What? What was that supposed to mean?

“I know, I know, this is all too sudden, but think about it. He’s a pretty man, wouldn’t you agree? I’m not saying you have to, but wouldn’t it be nice to see him in between your legs?”

This time, you snap your head to her. “Mitsuri!” you whisper-yell, “What the hell are you trying to do?!”

“Don’t act so prudish, sweets,” she purrs, her fingers trailing over your jaw. “Just look at him.” Taking your chin in hand, she directs you to look at Giyuu instead. Only one half of his face is illuminated from the light coming from the stage, but you can see the hungry glint in his eyes. “He’s practically undressing you with his eyes, sweets. How does that make you feel?”

“Tomioka-san…”

“Please don’t consider me lewd,” Giyuu starts, his voice just above a raspy grumble. “But I… I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” he confesses. “It isn’t fair to you of me thinking that way.”

Swallowing thickly, you release a shaky breath. “And what were you thinking, exactly…?”

Closing his eyes, Giyuu takes a moment to collect himself. “I want what you and Mitsuri have.”

On your other side, Mitsuri giggles. “Hear that, darling? Isn’t that so endearing? Giyuu practically just confessed to you!” Leaning in close, she presses her soft breasts against you. “And I’m perfectly okay if you want to say yes. Everyone deserves some happiness, hmm? Don’t be shy, now. Neither of us are foolish.”

This really is all too sudden. You never your night to head in this direction, nevertheless hear Giyuu tell you that he wants what you and Mitsuri have. Does that mean he also wanted to have a certain arrangement between the two of you? It’s not like you’re against it – Giyuu is certainly handsome, after all – but wouldn’t that make you seem desperate?

“If you’re on the fence about it, why don’t you give a go, just for tonight?” Mitsuri suggests. “We can forget all about it if you want. And if you don’t, well… Things should be fun, shouldn’t they?”

“I… I guess.”

“Wonderful. Giyuu, I give you my blessing to make an impression on our sweet little darling here,” Mitsuri purrs. “Don’t mess it up for yourself.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Giyuu grunts. He holds out a hand, then, a silent question displayed on his face. You glance between his face and his hand; your mind is rapidly going in loops, wondering just what he had in mind exactly. Gingerly, you place your hand in his, gasping when he suddenly yanks you up as he stands. “We won’t be gone for long,” he mutters at Mitsuri.

Mitsuri waves a dismissive hand, an uncharacteristic smirk playing on her pretty face. “Take your time. I know that you’ll need it.”

Giyuu pulls you away, leaving a giggling Mitsuri in your wake. The door to the balcony closes with a click that echoes down the silent hallway. Now that you’re completely alone with him, the realization of what this whole ordeal means comes crashing into you. Giyuu is being dead serious about this, and, well, you are too, apparently.

The two of you remain quiet as he pulls you down the hallway, his grip on your hand both gentle yet strong. He stops outside of a bathroom door, glancing both ways before dragging you in; after he’s checked for any potential bystanders in the bathroom, he locks the door. It’s then that you realize that this is the first time seeing him in bright lighting, but damn he looks just as fine. This is the first time that you’ve also stood directly next to him as well. He’s a lot broader than you anticipated, his shoulders tapering into slim hips.

“I meant it when I said it,” he tells you. The sheer sincerity of his voice strikes something deep within you, leaves you rooted to the spot. “This isn’t the way I wanted things to play out, but I uh, had someone put this little idea in the back of my head and it won’t go away.”

“You… really couldn’t stop thinking about me? I’m flattered, Tomioka-san. I didn’t know I left such an impression on you.”

“Heh. You’d be surprised.” Your breath catches in your throat as takes both of your hands in his, his thumbs drawing soothing circles into the skin. “Listen… I’m not… I’m not really good at this thing,” he says, voice low. “Relationships have never really been my forte.”

Ah, so that explains a lot.

“I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“I never pegged you for the sweet type,” you tell him.

“It’s called being considerate. I know plenty of people who wouldn’t hesitate to screw someone over.”

“You’re so serious, Tomioka-san. I can… Let me help you relax. That’s what you wanted, right?”

Giyuu hums, pulls you closer. “It’s not too late to turn back, but I really want this,” he murmurs. “Humor me?”

Before you know it, you’re backing up, the back of your thighs colliding with the counter; Giyuu lifts you with ease, setting your ass on the counter, and slipping between your legs. His mouth descends upon yours, touch almost featherlight as he kisses you. You urge him to press harder, your hands abandoning his hold and grabbing onto the lapels of his jacket instead. Giyuu grunts as you pull him even closer; sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, you pull it outward, relishing in the hiss that escapes him.

You shouldn’t be surprised with the way things go; time blurs, yet the moments seem so sharp. The pretty tulle of your skirt gathers around your hips, Giyuu’s strong hands gripping onto your thighs in such a way that it seems like he’s afraid to let you go. His mouth bleeds gold as you take kiss after kiss away from him, tongue sweeping into his mouth and licking away at the insides.

Things only grow more intimate from there; soon enough, you’re unbuttoning his shirt, hands pressing in and drifting across his skin. He’s surprisingly fit, but then again, it only adds to his godly visage. He’s openly moaning into your mouth at this point, hips bucking forward and seeking out that delicious friction. You choke on a moan as his clothed cock drags across your slit. Your panties are beyond ruined at this point, soaked all the way through and leaving a mess on the front of his slacks.

“Mmph – I bet you feel even better inside,” Giyuu breathes. “I want to… I want to see you wrapped around my cock.”

“Yes, Giyuu, yes,” you plead. Frantically, you undo the pants of his slacks, slip your hand inside his boxers.

“Ah, fuck,” he hisses. His hips absentmindedly buck into your touch, a groan rumbling deep in his chest. His voice is so low, so fucking gravelly – it’s wonderful, and fuck if you wouldn’t want to listen to it on loop.

Your insides tighten at the schlick, schlick, schlick noise that fills the bathroom, echoing all around you. Your pussy clenches around nothing, another drop of arousal seeping through your panties. “You said you wanted what I have with Mitsuri, right?” you purr. “Let me… Let me call you Daddy.”

It’s clear that the name causes something to snap inside of him; a growl rips itself from his throat, and his eyes flash with a darker, more animalistic gleam. Urging your hand off of him, he promptly pushes your panties to the side; your body tenses with excitement, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. Giyuu moans as he sheathes his cock inside of you, his hands gripping onto your legs and wrapping them around his slim hips.

“Oh, baby,” he purrs, his hands slamming down on the counter either side of you, effectively caging you in. “Feels so good… so tight…”

“Daddy, come on,” you whine, “we don’t have all night. You wanted this, remember? So fuck me, already. Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Giyuu murmurs into your ear. Sliding his hips away, he snaps his cock right back in, your velvety walls eagerly sucking him in. “I plan on doing so much more. You won’t regret it, baby. Not on my watch.”

“Just don’t ruin the dress,” you mutter, placing your lips against the pounding vein in his neck. “It’s not mine and I really don’t feel removing your cum from it.”

Giyuu sucks a breath in through his teeth as you suck a mark into his flesh. “Then I guess I’ll just have to cum inside, huh…?”

“I fucking dare you.”

“That sounds like a challenge, baby. Don’t mind if I do…”

-

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, they’ve been gone for a while, now,” Mitsuri says quietly into her phone. “Giyuu really needed to let loose, huh?”

“That sneaky little bastard,” Kyojuro says. He sighs. “And I invited for a night out, too. Dammit. Why does everyone else get to have fun while I don’t?”

Mitsuri giggles. “You’re really that jealous of Giyuu, huh? It’s actually really funny. Maybe I should tell Tengen, just to see what his reaction is like!”

“What, so he can join in on your little ‘arrangement’ you’ve got going on? What about me, huh? I thought we were friends!”

“And we are! If (y/n) wants anything to do with you, that’s entirely up to her. Wait, hold on – the door just opened. Talk to you later, Kyojuro!”

“Wait, Mitsuri-“

Click.

[abeingfromnothingness]

Anthropocene

(This is a short story to help with visualizing -this- idea don't take it way too seriously. You can make your own version of the idea if you want.)

Shoutout to @marlynnofmany "accidentaly human" series for inspiring this idea

@niqhtlord01 @dycefic @starr-fall-knight-rise for their great stories which are used as inspiration

@whereartthoubromeo this is for you

And the humans are weird community here

_________________________________________

Humans, when you hear that word what do you usualy think it describes?

More often than not it describes these hairless unasuming bipeds, they naturally have no magic abilities, traits or anything noteworthy except for being sexually compatible with all races but that all changed when a human named wudolf suon made a discovery that changed how we see these dissapointing apes.

-----------------------‐---‐-------------‐---------------------------

Wudolf was like every other human in his village normal and boring except for a select few with magical potential through familial ties. His parents were magicaly potent but he himself was not, he was enroled into the best academy there by scholarships his parents paid for using money acumulated during their adventuring days with a group who saved the world, this was to help him learn magic.

Most humans were often bullied for being weak and pathetic magic casters but wudolf got the most bulliying due to the fact he has little no magic potential, so during his freetime he experimented ways to forcefully give himself magical powers or disabling it from others.

One fatefull night during one of his experiments he got into an accident thankfully or should i say unfortunately he survived and gained magic powers like he wanted though ever since that day all magical creatures that stand near him always felt slightly uneasy, to the point no one makes any friends with him except human friends, they never felt what the rest of the students described, at the end of the day he didn't care as long as he can use magic now.

Whenever wudolf tries to cast a spell it never seems to work the first time then the next day he suddenly can do it perfectly though there was something a bit off about the aura, whenever he is questioned how he did it he always replied "i don't know it just... gave itself to me i guess".

Over the course of the semester his power kept growing, the range where magical creatures felt uneasy also increases, every magic fight he entered always resulted in him winning every single time with little to no harm done to him with most magical beings attending feeling unwell and a few humans having a faint headache.

The principal suspected something strange was happening but didn't care because of wudolf helping the academy acumulate many tournament trophies, one day the principal got an anonymous tip about wudolf practicing forbiden magic with a picture of wudolf reading a mysterious book, it is suspected that the ones who sent the anonymous tip were jealous students but whoever that sent it just opened pandora's box.

Wudolf and his parents were called into the principals office one day to discuss about his dabling with the forbiden arts, of course wudolf is innocent but any mention about the dabling in forbiden arts are treated with zero tolerance.

Wudolf tries and pleads innocence but the principal doesn't bellive him after the many months of accumulated reports from many students feeling uneasy around him and only him though no human students ever complained which proves he wasn't using forbiden arts, but was ruled out for the reason that "humans have difficulty with magic" so he was kicked out and ran away into the wilderness never to be seen again.

A month has passed when suddenly a figure wearing a carved out dragon head and a cloak made of dragon skin attacked the village, a group of heroes consisting of a human mage, an elf archer, an orc barbarian, and a dragonborn paladin confronts the figure in front of them standing amongst rubble of a ruined square.

"Ah, i assume you are one of this vilage's groups of heroes am i correct?" The figure speaks though slightly muffled and distorted by the head they are wearing.

"That is correct and you should leave or else we'll strike you down even killing you if we have to." The dragonborn exclaims

"Well i should say the same way to beings such as yourselves, except you human" the figure points at the suprised mage

"What do you want from me?" The human exclaimed.

"It's pretty obvious, You and other humans"

the orc stands infront of the mage

"you no hurt little buddy!"

The figure laughs "hurt? Oh no no no, let's just say 'under my care' it's not like orcs such as you can show kindness, the only thing you know is being a big brutish pushover who values an ally by stength so let me place us at an even footing" with a snap of a finger the orc suddenly collapses on to their back

"Gear. Too. Heavy."

"What did you do!?" The paladin shouted getting the attention of the figure "i already told you what i did, i placed us in an even footing, i made them 'human' so to speak"

the group turns to the orc waiting for some sort of transformation to happen but nothing happened.

"I don't know what you did but i will shoot you down from your mountain!" The elf taunts preparing a shot

"Granny, stop being mad, else you'll wither away faster, here let me help you take a well deserved break from this adventuring buisness." With another snap the elf expected to suddenly feel heavier which is why they aimed higher than usual, what waited for them was something else other than an increase in weight.

Their hair starts to grey, their vision starts to blur, their limbs slowly feel weak, the arrow that was fired was deflected effortlessly by the sturdy dragon scales of the figure's cloak.

"Your gravity and aging magic won't work on me, prepare to be brought justice." The dragonborn paladin exclaimed triumphantly

"Justice? Ha, after your kind's scally egotistical reign on many other regions especialy what one of you kept on doing to me and my friends during my student years, i'd beg to differ. let me serve you your just deserts master." The paladin prepares a breath attack but with a snap the dragonborn suddenly falls on their knee puking with their scales turning pale.

The figure looms menacingly "how the mighty have fallen. You know, your reaction reminded me of a dragon that i encountered, you all are wondering why suddenly there seems to be little to no dragon sightings?" What the figure says is true, for whatever reason no dragons have shown up for the past few weeks eventhough this area is known for many dragons in hiding, this never happened until a certain scholar was expeled and was never seen again.

"Let's just say i returned a long overdue debt. Of course i am not an idiot so i cut some loose ends one being a problem now and four more in the future, how did you think i got this attire, and survived?"

"You...monster" the dragonborn replies through their nausea

"A monster huh? how ironic especialy coming from a cousin of the species that did so without care to us lesser species." "Fireball!" The mage casts a spell which quickly dissipates instantly a feet away from the figure, the remaining heat catches the figure's attention "pathetic, now, time to deal with you my buddy ol'pal marcus." Marcus taken aback "w-wudolf!?"

Wudolf raises the ex-hatchling's maw revealing a familiar face with a very noticable change. "Hello marcus, it has been a while huh?"

Marcus draws in magic to prepare a spell "Look, whatever malicious god or being that is passively controling you, i will save you even if it results in any of our deaths."

Wudolf laughs "a malicious entity is that your conclusion of what happened to me?" Marcus nods in confirmation. "Well i can't blame you due to it being a common occurence to people like me and the fact that i was expeled due to being accused of such things, but allow me to show you OUR power." Marcus tries to cast a spell but nothing happened and he was then hit by a powerful force sending him flying into a wall, marcus tries again...nothing happened and he was hit by a blast sending him to the ground, he is starting to have a headaches. Wudolf prepares a large spear made off whatever magic he is using and throws it. Frusturated marcus tries and block it, and succedes creating a shield with the same magic wudolf is using, he falls down fatigued. "What was that i just did!?" Marcus stared at his hand in awe of what he has done, so does his teamates.

Wudolf stands there satisfied "i already told you, it is OUR power. Let me ask you a question." Wudolf summons ropes to bind each hero down. "Have you wondered what makes an art forbiden?"

Marcus was about to answer. "Don't worry i know what you'll answer and yes with the same reason of it being a common occurence but maybe, it is to stop instances of overpowering." "What do you mean by that?"

Wudolf smiles a little and starts walking around "well remember that day when i got into an accident?" Marcus nods remembering that day clearly. "when i recovered, i suddenly have the abillity to cast magic which was slowly growing more powerful with a side effect at the time i brushed of as miniscule. I then became our academy's champion winning several magic tournanent throphies which are null and void by now considering what happened last month. Did you ever notice how weird that after my 5th win in a row i was suddenly accused of practicing the forbiden arts which was treated with instant expultion?" Marcus pipes up "well yeah and we even found the sender of the annonymous tip who was a half-dragon that was jealous of you and used your weird unsetling aura as proof of forbiden magic possesion. So yeah i feel really sorry for you." "I can understand that too. Anyway, during my time out there i practiced my new found magic to find out what element it is and maybe who it was bestowed to me. Well the answer is very suprising, it's nothing and it is in fact OUR own natural magic."

Marcus wide eyed in shock "you are telling me that we were supposed to have our own magic abilities and what do you mean by it's nothing? It's magic, it's got to be something." Wudolf turns sharply to face Marcus "That's the thing, our magic comes from absolute nothing though now it's more of a something that is revealed within the absence of natural magic. With this knowledge i posses and now you too, i will bring our kind the justice we all deserve after many years living under fear of these creatures. I will create a world where they can never hurt us, one way or another, a libberation of you will."

Marcus finally has the strength to stand up "dude, i know your intention and it is a good one, but there's got to be a better way than a mass genocide, we can still live with each other side by side and yes we may be feared of but still, it is way better than extermination. You probably know this, so have a little bit of humani-" a large spike of energy pierces marcus' stomach sending him to a critical condition, this is followed by ropes of energy binding him. "You still don't get it do you. Maybe i need a larger example and suprisingly, (Wudolf creates an extra dimensional portal and pulls out a modified trumpet bearing a flag of a kingdom.) I do." He blows into it and a large portal appears that leads to the front of a kingdom "my own design if you are wondering." standing behind them is a king with an army of people from various ages standing behind them, far off behind them there seems to be a walled of kingdom with the wall having visible signs of damage as well as a huge area that was lost. From the wide and deep claw marks covering the wall to the massive bloodstain it is safe to assume that a massive creature had attacked not too long ago. Wudolf aproaches the king "ah mister wudolf let me guess, your friend?" The king says to him in a casual manner. "Yes though now more of an obstacle. Really hoped for them to join our cause." The king chuckles "happens to most of us. Well then, it is time for us to do a full sweep to recruit soldiers and exterminate these pests. It's funny how one day we were the most pathetic race to ever existed and then the next, eldritch monsters capable of crippling massive beasts with a glare." They both laugh at the thought while men and women storm the village.

-----‐-‐-----------------------------------------------------------

This was several years ago and since that time we started the rebelion, many creatures against these humans now called as (homo sapinihilis) courtesy of our (homo sapien) friends.

We also discovered these mushrooms that create a zone of replenishing mana which allows us access to magic while engaging those things.

We have reports of from our scouts that the "nihilistums" are developing a bomb to wipe everyone from existance.

Now it is your job to stop them, don't worry we have an adventuring group ready for you

[kutemouse]

Caught (Prologue)

Disclaimers: All “Save Me” webtoon and BTS MV/highlight reel/film references and plots belong to BTS and BigHit. Not sure who edited it or made it, but the “I’m Fine/Save Me” ambigram pic I used came from here. All pictures of Kim Taehyung belong to BTS and BigHit, I just edited them for my header. The picture of BTS came from Vogue Japan, I just edited it for my header. I got the Kim Taehyung Wings Film Gif from DannyBriz on Wattpad.

A Note from Kutemouse: Awwww, thank you for reading my stuff, @chocolatewolfuniversitytrash!

So, this sweet little mini series is inspired by several things… The movie 365 DNI, the Save Me webtoon, the BTS MV universe, and ideas I’ve come up with waaaaaay too late at night 😂 Honestly, I’m OBSESSED with the whole MV/highlight reel/wings films arc that started with The Most Beautiful Moment in Life Pt. 1, and I’ve ALWAYS wanted to write a story inspired by it. So, kutie pie @chocolatewolfuniversitytrash, thank you for allowing this dream to come to light.

About the non-con request, I was all like, “EEEERRRRRRMMMMMMMM idk,” because I’ve never written non-con and therefore don’t… know… if I’m comfortable with it…? I will attempt to do my best. Either way, I hope you like what has come out of my brain 😅

Also, thank you to @btssmutheaven for revealing my drafts (NOT REALLY, ILY) to @taemaknae for reading my shit and loving it, and to @kpopyandere for being the best unnie account and helping me realize I can write all the yandere ideas I want.

Age Recommendation: 21+ (this is NOT one for youngsters, kuties, and is MOST DEFINITELY NSFW)

Genre: Mafia!AU w/ BTS, Jailbird!AU w/ Taehyung, Yandere!BTS

Warnings: ALL THE WARNINGS. Just kidding, uh… Swears. There are minors in this section but they do NOT do anything sexual. I ain’t about that kinda life, y’all. F*ckboy Taehyung. Fluffy friendship. Angsty jealousy. Mentions of drug use and alcohol consumption (NOT by minors tho). Yandere themes including unhealthy obsession and possessiveness. Making out. No smut in this part, but it’s heavy af.

🚨TRIGGER WARNING. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE ISSUES WITH THE FOLLOWING.🚨

Mentions of abusive relationships, mentions of a parent abusing their child, mentions of sexual abuse, mentions of schoolyard bullying, mentions of a violent murder.

These are not fleshed out or detailed scenarios. When I say “mention,” I mean briefly discussed after it happened, not during, and definitely not in any detail whatsoever. You DO NOT have to read my work. You decide what you are comfortable with. All I want is for you kuties to be happy.

Word Count: 6.1k (WTF is this even allowed?!)

Summary: Kim Taehyung was the absolute love of your life… until he became a murderer. With him serving a life sentence in prison, you were finally free to live out the rest of your life however you wanted. Just when you thought you were at the top of your game, ready to take on the world, Taehyung reappears like a monster not even your worst nightmares could dream up. He gives you a year to fall in love with him, but now the question is, can monsters even be loved?

Master List

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Caught (Taehyung Series, Yandere, Smut, Angst) Prologue

I remember the first time I saw Kim Taehyung. We were both fifteen, just starting out in high school. Back then, I remember the way he lazily leaned against a locker with his arms crossed, seemingly waiting for someone. His hair was bleached a ridiculous bright blonde on the top and left brunette everywhere else. He had on dramatic, black eyeliner that served to accentuate his inky eyes, and he wore a studded leather jacket with his shirt and tie rather than the traditional uniform. Intrigued, I opened my locker and picked out my books for my next class, watching him out of the corner of my eye.

I saw him zero in on his target and take brisk, wide strides towards her as she twirled the combo to her locker. She looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes as he caged her in by leaning down to whisper something in her ear. Suddenly, the hallway was filled with flirtatious giggles and I turned away, rolling my eyes. So he was one of those assholes.

I watched him do this with every single girl in our class. I swear, he had his routine down to a science. Chat her up, openly flirt, flirt some more until she caved in to whatever he desired, then drop her like a hot frying pan. It took a couple months for his interest to finally land on me.

“Hey.”

I didn’t bother to look up as I twirled the combination to my locker and popped it open.

“Hey,” he said louder.

I flicked a glance his way. “Do you need something?”

His eyes narrowed. “Do I look like I need anything?”

I huffed out a sigh. “What do you want, Kim Taehyung?”

He let out a snort, leaning against the locker next to mine the same way he’d done a thousand times with a thousand other girls. “So you know my name, but I don’t know yours. You’re new, right?”

“I transferred in at the beginning of the year,” I said impatiently. “And we’re in the same class, so you should know who I am.”

Taehyung’s lips curled up into a playful smirk. “Really? No, that can’t be right. I definitely would’ve remembered you.”

I rolled my eyes and slammed my locker shut, walking quickly away. Taehyung jogged to keep up. “Just tell me your name,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“C’mon, I’m just trying to make friends.”

I whirled around, stopping both of us in our tracks. “Friends? Is that what you’ve been doing with every other girl here? Just making friends?”

Taehyung smirked once more and took a step towards me. I don’t know why, but I took a step back. I should’ve held my ground, should’ve told him to fuck off right then and there. Instead, I let him back me up against the wall and entrap me within his darkened gaze, the same way he would for the next three years of our lives.

He leaned down to whisper in my ear, his breath tickling the skin of my cheek. “We can be more than friends… but first, you have to tell me your name.”

I shoved him off me and practically sprinted down the hall, cheeks aflame with embarrassment. My peers and classmates who saw the exchange teased me for weeks afterward, no matter how much I kept my head down and avoided Taehyung like my life depended on it. It wasn’t until I heard him telling off some of the more tenacious gossipers I decided to give him another chance.

I tapped him on his shoulder as he stood in front of his locker. His eyes widened when he turned to see me standing there. “I’m L/n Y/n,” I said meekly. “And I wanted to thank you for what you said to those people.”

“You heard that?” he asked, the skin of his neck flushing pink.

I nodded.

“You’re welcome,” he said, tossing me a boxy grin.

That day, a seed was planted that eventually grew into a steady, beautiful friendship. A year later, I had come out of my shell quite a bit thanks to Taehyung, and I had a solid group of mates that I adored and relied on. Tae was my best friend, and I was his. Of course, we still got teased quite a bit about being a couple, but I figured we were both long past that.

Taehyung matured alongside our friendship. He stopped wearing thick eyeliner and sporting ridiculous hair colors, instead opting for a softer, more natural look with caramel brown locks and the unblemished glow of his slightly-tan skin. Gone were his dramatic, attention-seeking ways. His voice also deepened, dropping almost an entire octave. Yet despite all of his changes, he still stayed an absolute fuck-boy, shagging a new girl every other week. I came to realize it was all part of his personality, though, and I loved him no matter what.

The summer before our senior year was when I realized that love ran way deeper than friendship. We were at my best girlfriend Chaeyoung’s house when Taehyung stumbled in with yet another girl, his hair freshly dyed a bright cerulean blue. “Hey everyone!” he called out, slinging his arm around the girl’s shoulders. My smile faded as I looked over and noticed she was beyond gorgeous, with waist-length black locks that seemed to flow down the perfect curve of her back. I shuddered as a green monster reared its ugly head deep within me.

Taehyung was with that girl for a few months, which by his standards, was practically a lifetime. The entire time they were together, I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff about to swan-dive into devastating heartbreak. Each time I saw him kiss her, each time I saw him smile at her, each time I saw him lean over and whisper something in her ear, a piece of my soul shriveled up and died. I did my best to put my feelings aside, knowing I already had my chance and he would probably never look at me that way again. Even after they broke up, I kept my love for him tamped down and tucked away deep in the recesses of my heart, scared of ruining our friendship.

His break-up only served to draw us closer together, and slowly, without me realizing it, our friendship began to bloom into something more. Taehyung and I started to tell each other everything, including the messed-up secrets our home lives made us keep. One day, we were sitting in an empty classroom after school. I was trying to study, but kept getting distracted by Tae staring longingly out the window. “What’re you looking at?” I finally asked, putting my pencil down.

“Nothing,” he said simply. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About when we’ll finally get out of here.”

I smiled, my heart thumping a little faster. “We?”

He turned and tossed me his signature boxy grin. “Yeah. We. We’ll make it out of here someday, Y/n. I’ll get away from my bastard of a dad, you’ll get away from your selfish mother, and we’ll have a house in the country with big, open fields and plenty of space to finally fucking breathe.”

I smiled and stored those words away, using them to comfort myself whenever my mother and her asshole of a boyfriend wouldn’t stop yelling at each other, or worse, when they’d pass out on the couch, too drunk or high to stay coherent.

One night around three in the morning, my phone began to buzz and didn’t stop until I finally popped an eye open, fumbled around for it in the dark, and pressed it to my ear. “Hello?” I mumbled.

“H-Hey.”

I sat up. “Taehyung?”

“Y/n, I n-need your help,” he said shakily. It sounded like he was… crying?

I immediately got out of bed and pulled some jeans on. “Tae, it’s okay,” I said soothingly, trying to hide the panic I was feeling. I knew Taehyung’s home life was extremely hard. In fact, most of our home lives were terrible. The only two in our friend group who even came close to “privileged” were Chaeyoung and Jin, and that was because their parents had more money, not less problems.

I myself had plenty of issues. The reason my mother and I moved here when I was fifteen was to escape her abusive boyfriend, and even then, we still lived in constant fear of him finding us again. I guess that fear drove her into the arms of the first strong-looking man who looked twice at her, because her new boyfriend, Manseok, seemed to fit the same abusive pattern. At least he didn’t hit her when he was sober.

I wasn’t exactly sure how terrible Taehyung’s life was until the night he called me. At his request, I stole a few bills from my mom’s purse as well as her ID and put us up in a cheap motel room for the night. Jumping up when I finally heard his knock, I quickly pulled the door open to reveal Taehyung, his blue hair stringy from the rain outside. He was panting like he ran all the way there. I covered my mouth with my hands as the dim lighting revealed his left eye swollen shut, covered in nasty shades of scarlet and purple. His lip was split and bleeding, and his right cheek had another bruise and cut creeping down to his jawbone. The worst part, though, were the red finger-shaped marks that covered his neck.

“Y/n,” he croaked out. I held open my arms and he fell into them, not leaving their safety until well into the morning. I iced his black eye and bruises as much as I could, and bandaged the cuts that covered his face. Taehyung’s face was pressed into my chest, his breathing deep and even as he finally slept.

I decided then and there I’d never let him go.

Thankfully, Taehyung felt the same way. Within a week, he brushed off every other girl he was chatting up and focused all of his attention on me. We spent hours with each other after school, either in person or on the phone, and it became a common occurrence for him to intertwine his fingers with mine or peck me sweetly on the cheek.

I quickly grew dissatisfied, sick of the friendship barrier preventing us from taking things further. We spent an entire day together one weekend, talking, laughing, walking the streets, and trying different foods from vendor carts. As the sun started to go down, Taehyung wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing his chest into my back. He was teasing me, I forget about what, and he leaned down to kiss my cheek when I turned at the last second and let him peck my lips instead. I laughed as his dark eyes grew wide with shock.

That was all it took, though. One kiss, and he was mine. Or rather, I was his. Afterwards, he pulled me into a deserted alleyway and we kissed until the sun completely disappeared. As the stars appeared in the sky above, Taehyung asked me to be his girlfriend, murmuring in my ear about how much he loved me and how he had never stopped loving me, even after I turned him down. With my heart practically bursting, I readily agreed.

Back then, Taehyung had a knack for getting in trouble, and me being his new girlfriend did nothing to hinder that side of him. He was definitely the “bad boy” of our school, constantly rebelling against the system by swapping his uniform for street clothes and ditching classes. His favorite form of rebellion, however, was street graffiti. He loved spray-painting words and drawings all over the walls of our neighborhood alongside his best friend, Namjoon. Tae was nearly caught by the cops a couple of times, but thanks to his quick instincts, he managed to give them the slip.

Still, a boy with bright, blue hair was bound to stand out, so after a couple nights of close calls, Taehyung finally dyed his hair back to that soft, caramel brown that I loved running my fingers through. We sat together at a bus stop, watching cars and people go by with fingers intertwined, when Tae stood and pulled a paint can out of his jacket pocket.

“Again?” I asked. Despite my teasing tone, I smiled up at him.

Taehyung tucked his bottom lip between his teeth with a grin as he sprayed something onto the panel beside us. “Look,” he said once he was finished, tilting his head to admire his work.

I stood up to see the words “I’m fine” sprayed in green. The font was the most interesting part, though, too curly in comparison to Taehyung’s usual writing. “Now look at it from upside-down,” Tae said.

I threw him a skeptical look before obediently curving my neck and scoping out the piece of art as best I could. “Save me,” I read out loud.

Taehyung nodded. “It’s for us,” he murmured.

I looked up at him, emotions surging through me like a waterfall surging down a cliff. “It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice cracking.

Taehyung looked at me, concern filling his features. “Baby girl, what’s wrong?”

“I-I have s-something to tell you,” I stammered.

With many tears and a shaky voice, I began to explain to Taehyung the events that had transpired only a few nights before. How my mom’s boyfriend had quietly snuck into my room while she remained passed out on the couch. How he had told me to be quiet as his hand started stroking my arm. How he had held his hand over my mouth and yelped when I bit him. How I had screamed so loud our neighbors called the cops. How he was carted away by the police with my mother shrieking the entire time about how I was a brat and a dramatic liar.

Taehyung’s gaze grew darker with each word. “That bastard,” he spat, clenching his fists. “I will end that motherfucker.”

“Taehyung, stop,” I sighed. “It’s over. For now, at least. I’ll stay at Chaeyoung’s until graduation.”

“What do you mean? He’s not going to jail?”

I hung my head. “My mom left to pay his bail an hour ago.”

Taehyung slammed his fist into the same panel he just graffitied. “So that jerk is going to walk free?!”

I stood up and ran my hands soothingly over his shoulders. “For now. I’m going to press charges, but in the end, it’s my word against his. Who knows how the system will treat him.”

Taehyung let out a feral growl, turning away from me. “I’m sick of this shit,” he snapped. “My dad, your mom’s boyfriend… neither of them should be walking free after everything they’ve done.”

Not knowing what else to do, I hugged him tightly from behind. “Just another few months,” I said quietly. “And then we’ll be out of here. A house in the country, just like you said.”

“That’s not good enough,” Tae snapped, turning back towards me. My mouth parted in surprise as I looked into his eyes and saw something there I’d never seen before. It was like a slow-burning flame, one that hadn’t yet risen into a raging wildfire, but threatened to if it wasn’t quickly put out.

Taehyung suddenly grabbed my hand and tugged me down the street. “I’m dropping you off at Chae’s,” he said. “And then I want you to stay there for the next twenty-four hours. I don’t want you going out for any reason, you understand me?”

“Taehyung, what are you saying? You’re scaring me.”

He stopped walking, turning so we were facing each other once more. The flame I saw earlier began blazing, turning rapidly into something uncontrollable and destructive I didn’t know how to stop. “This ends tonight,” he growled.

True to his word, he dropped me off at Chaeyoung’s, not leaving until he made me promise I wouldn’t go out until he said so. After a week, with Tae’s permission, I went home to get some clothes and personal items only to find my mom sitting on the couch, strung out of her mind. “Is he here?” I asked tentatively.

She raised her red-rimmed eyes to meet mine. “Who?”

“Manseok. Your jerk of a boyfriend.”

My mom shrugged and scoffed. “Haven’t seen that bastard for a couple days now,” she said, her words slurring together. “He upped and left us. Stole some money from me to do it, too.”

The feeling of relief that I felt was short-lived once I remembered that asshole would probably be back for more, just like the others. I quickly gathered my things and left, stopping only to make sure my mom had enough food for the next few days.

Ever since that night, Taehyung withdrew into himself. He still held my hand and kissed me, but it was distant, emotionless, like he didn’t know how to feel his feelings for me anymore. He weirdly became somewhat possessive of me, keeping me practically glued to his side whenever he was with me, and constantly texting me when we weren’t together. Whenever other boys looked my way, Taehyung shot them down with harsh words and incessant bullying our friends joined in on. I insisted they stop that kind of behavior, and for a while, I thought Tae and his friends complied. It wasn’t until much later in life when I realized they never truly stopped. They just got better at hiding it.

One night, I was at Namjoon’s place waiting for Tae when Joon’s phone rang. “Taehyung?” he said, turning away from me when I looked up. “Hey, calm down. You did what?!”

He stood up quickly. I motioned for him to put it on speaker, but he waved me off. “Okay, stop. I’m coming over right now. Just stay put, dammit.”

Joon grabbed his jacket and rushed towards the door. “Wait!” I cried. “What happened?!”

“Nothing that concerns you,” he snapped. “Stay here. I’ll bring Taehyung to you, alright?”

Neither of them came back. Before the sun even thought of rising, I determinedly ran all the way to Taehyung’s apartment, desperate to see him and make sure he was alright. As my sneakers pounded against the pavement and my breath started coming out in ragged gasps, I suddenly felt a hand grasp my forearm and yank me into a side alley.

“What are you doing here?” a voice growled as I yelped in surprise. I looked up to see Jungkook standing there, glaring at me.

“I want to see Taehyung,” I retorted, ripping my arm from his grasp.

He crossed his arms. “Not gonna happen.”

“Like hell it’s not!” I snapped. “Where is he?”

Jungkook grabbed the front of my jacket, preventing me from pushing past him. “Go home, Y/n.”

“Absolutely the fuck not!”

Sick of my shit, Jungkook picked me up, threw me over his broad shoulder, and carried me out of the alleyway. I kicked and screamed the entire way. He set me down once we were on the main street. “Taehyung will call you when he can,” he said firmly. “I won’t say it again, Y/n. Go home.”

“No!” Tears welled up, and I furiously swiped them away. “I’m his girlfriend! Tell me where he is right now or I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Jungkook snapped. “Y/n, you don’t even know where he is. Fucking leave, or I’ll carry you all the way back to Chae’s myself.”

It didn’t take much longer for me to realize Jungkook wouldn’t relent. Eventually, I went back to Chaeyoung’s and spent the day staring at the wall beside my bed. What did Taehyung do? What were his friends protecting him from? When had things gotten so fucked up?

My questions were never answered. After a full week of silence, complete with him missing school, Taehyung showed up at Chae’s place asking for me. “She doesn’t want to see you,” Chae snapped, closing the door as I meandered into the entry hall.

Taehyung stopped her by slamming his palm against the wood. “Please, Chae,” he begged.

Recognizing his deep tenor, I walked up and put my hand on my bestie’s shoulder. “I’ve got this, Chae,” I murmured. She left with a huff.

Taehyung looked terrible. Dark circles ran under both eyes like he’d spent multiple nights without sleep, his hair was unkempt, and his skin was much too pale. Without another word, I immediately took him inside and dragged him up to my room. He took a shower in my en suite bathroom while I washed his clothes. After he dressed, we sat on my bed, still not speaking. “What happened?” I finally asked.

He tossed me a weak smile. “Life happened.”

I shook my head in disgust. “You leave me for an entire week with no explanation, and that’s all you have to say?”

“Baby girl, please,” Taehyung said, clasping my hands in between his large, rough ones. “I’m sorry I left you alone. I asked the guys to keep an eye on you, and they said you’ve been doing fine.”

“Fine is an overstatement,” I snorted, tearing my hands from his grasp.

He didn’t relent, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his broad chest. “Let go,” I ordered, trying and failing to push him away.

“No,” he said simply, tightening his hold. “I love you, Y/n. Everything that happened this past week happened for us. For our dream.”

I managed to pull back enough to look up into his eyes. The spark of mischief that normally resided there was gone, replaced by a dull sombreness that made me ache inside. Whatever had happened that week completely changed Taehyung for good. He was no longer quick to smile or joke, and I began to yearn for the blue-haired boy of the past. I couldn’t tell him that, though. Despite everything, I still loved him.

A month passed, and as our graduation approached, Taehyung talked more and more about moving out to the country. I responded enthusiastically outwardly, but on the inside, I didn’t know if moving out was such a good idea. It wasn’t just the way he had changed. It was having issues with my mom as well. Since Manseok never came back around, her behavior grew more erratic each day. I moved back in to take care of her, and she depended heavily on me. I was afraid if I left, she would fall off the deep end again and never be able to make it back to the surface.

The last day I saw Taehyung dawned bright and filled with hope. “I’m feeling good today,” he announced, slinging an arm around my shoulders as we walked to class.

I smiled up at him, glee spreading through my limbs when I saw a trace of that mischievous spark back in his eyes. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He tossed me a grin. “I haven’t been able to go out and tag anything lately… but I kind of want to tonight. You in?”

“Of course.”

As night approached, we walked hand-in-hand down the street until Taehyung led us back to that bus stop where he painted the “I’m fine/Save me” ambigram. I sat on the bench and watched as he began to create something new. I don’t think he had a set plan. The painting started off in meaningless loops, the jet-black color standing out in stark contrast to the white behind it.

Suddenly, bright lights filled our vision flashing a blinding blue and red. “Freeze!” a loud voice yelled.

I remember Taehyung’s wide, dark eyes finding mine, filled with panic. I remember the rough skin of his palm sliding into mine and yanking me upright. I remember how we sprinted down the street, the fear of being caught pumping adrenaline through us. How he ran faster than me, tugging me along to keep up.

Taehyung looked back and pulled me into an alleyway to try and lose them. We turned a corner and met a dead end. With our backs pressed against the wall, I looked at Tae. “Dammit,” he panted, the corners of his mouth turning upwards despite our situation.

I began to run out the way we came, intending on dragging Taehyung with me, but he yanked me back, slamming me against the wall that entrapped us. He kissed me, feverishly pressing his tongue inside my mouth before I could stop him. He yanked my wrists upwards, pinning them almost painfully against the brick above us as his mouth continued exploring mine and his hands roamed up and down my body.

He pulled back, allowing me to finally suck in some oxygen, and even as I coughed, he continued pressing kisses from my cheek to my jaw to my neck. Tae finally stopped as loud voices and beams of flashlights got closer. “I love you, baby girl,” he murmured. “Don’t forget that.”

“Tae, what—?”

He stepped out from behind the corner, raising his hands in the air. I ducked down into the shadows the alley provided, scooting backwards and pressing my hands over my mouth.

“Get over here, punk,” a gruff voice commanded. I heard the grinding click of handcuffs closing over wrists as another voice began to read Tae his rights.

I scrambled to my feet, realizing too late what was happening. No, no, no, no, no. He couldn’t take the fall for both of us. Not like this. Still, even as I moved to step out into the light and reveal myself, something stopped me. I don’t remember exactly what it was. Possibly the thought of my mother, my friends, how close I was to graduation. Like I said, I don’t remember. All I remember was the panic I felt when I realized the love of my life had just been arrested.

I showed up late to class the next day, not wanting to answer questions from my friends about what had happened and why I looked like absolute shit. I realized my efforts weren’t needed when two detectives pulled me out of class and escorted me to the police station, causing my classmates to start buzzing with gossip like the annoying wasps they were.

“So… L/n Y/n,” the cop, Detective Kwak, said. I looked up at her, nervously twisting my hands in my lap. “You are dating Kim Taehyung, correct?”

I nodded slowly. She had brought me here for “routine questioning,” yet I began to suspect more when they put me in an interrogation room. “For how long?” the detective asked.

“About a year and a half,” I muttered.

“So your relationship was serious?”

“You could say that.”

“How serious?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What do you mean?”

“I  mean, how serious were you? Did you have plans for after graduation?”

“I guess. We were going to move in together.”

“Here in the city?”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “Somewhere far away.”

“Because of your troubles at home?”

It was then I got defensive. “What do you know about that?” I snapped.

Detective Kwak stared me down, an amused smile playing around the corners of her lips. “I know enough. I was promoted to detective only a month or so ago. Back in my street days, I was one of the cops called to your house.”

My mouth parted in surprise at her words.

“I remember that night pretty clearly,” she continued. “Your mom’s boyfriend attacked you, right?”

I swallowed hard and sank down in my seat, rubbing my arms with my palms in an effort to keep myself contained. “And she did nothing to defend you, correct?” the detective prodded.

“Stop,” I whispered.

“What about Taehyung? Did he do anything to defend you?”

“What the fuck is this about?” I burst out. “I thought you brought me here because… because…”

“Because of the graffiti?” she asked pointedly.

I nodded.

Detective Kwak leaned forward over the table. “Look, Y/n, I don’t give a damn about the fact you were his tagging partner in crime or whatever. This is much bigger than that.”

“What do you mean?”

She sat back and stared at me, her eyes like cold, dark tunnels. “Kim Taehyung has been charged with murder. His prints match a partial we lifted off of a crime scene.”

My mouth dropped open. “W-What?”

“That’s right,” she said. “We only identified the body yesterday. Does the name Lee Manseok mean anything to you?”

I froze as the syllables of my mother’s boyfriend’s name rolled off the detective’s tongue. She nodded at my reaction. “I thought it would. He was found in an abandoned warehouse about a week after he was killed. He’d been beaten to death.”

My blood ran cold, causing goosebumps to raise on the flesh of my arms. I shook my head fiercely. “No, that can’t be right,” I said. “The guy was a dick, anyone could’ve done that to him.”

“That’s what we thought at first. We first suspected his wife.”

“He… He has a wife?”

“And two kids,” the detective scoffed. “Your mom picked a real winner. But then we finally got Taehyung in custody thanks to your shenanigans last night and what do you know? His prints match the one we found at the crime scene.”

“You’ve got it wrong,” I said firmly. “Taehyung wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t he?” she asked, folding her arms over the table. “Sounds like he really loved you and would do anything to protect you.”

“No, there has to be a mistake. Even if Taehyung did kill him, it had to be out of self-defense or something.”

“Maybe so. But if you knock a guy out and then continue beating him until he dies, is it really self-defense?”

“It is if that guy could come back and hurt someone you love for revenge,” I retorted.

The detective’s face remained expressionless. “Unfortunately, the law says differently.”

“The law can go to hell for all I care.”

She chuckled. “Whatever you say, kid. Look, the crime scene revealed that more than one person beat the literal life out of Manseok. If Taehyung did this, he didn’t do it alone. Do you happen to know who else would have helped him commit murder?”

I stayed silent as I thought for a moment. Any of our friends could’ve helped him, with maybe the exception of Chaeyoung. I thought of Jin, Hoseok, Jungkook, Jimin, Yoongi and Joon. I thought of the way they moved around school like a unified group, making fun of anyone who wasn’t them and bullying people who got in their way, especially any other guy who dared look my way. Still, they wouldn’t have helped Tae commit flat-out murder, would they?

“Anyone at all?”

The detective’s voice brought me out of my thoughts. I shook my head. “No. No one.”

She sighed. “There’s something else. We’ve been trying to get ahold of Taehyung’s father, but he seems to be missing.”

“Missing?”

“Yes. He hasn’t shown up at his job at all in the past month and a half. His credit cards haven’t been used, either.”

“So?” I snapped. “The guy was an alcoholic, he could be holed up somewhere drinking himself to death.”

“Maybe so, but my guess is we’re going to find him in some abandoned building or maybe at the bottom of the ocean one day. Your boy, Taehyung? I’ll bet he’s the one who put him there.”

I slammed my palms on the table. “LIES!” I yelled. “He wouldn’t do that!”

“Wouldn’t he?!” Detective Kwak shouted, rising to her feet. “Tell me something right now, Y/n. Have you noticed him acting differently? Have you noticed any changes in his behavior?”

I immediately looked down at the ground. “No,” I muttered.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I said, NO!”

“Enough with the lies!”

“I’m not lying! You are!”

The detective opened her mouth to retort, then thought better of it and sat down instead. “The evidence doesn’t lie, Y/n,” she said.

“Look,” I said. “If you want someone to put in jail, put me in jail. Taehyung’s gone through enough in his life. Please don’t put him through this.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

Tears welled up in my eyes and I put my hands over my face and began to sob. Detective Kwak stood up and came around to my side of the table before placing a hand on my shoulder. Once my sobs began to cease, she offered me a tissue. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. “Thanks,” I muttered.

“Listen,” she said gently. “I’ve made arrangements for your aunt to come pick you up.”

I looked up at the detective in surprise. “My aunt?”

“Yes. Your mom’s sister. She’s filed to gain custody of you, and in light of recent events, a judge granted it to her.”

“Wait, my mom’s sister? I thought she lived in America.”

Detective Kwak’s mouth visibly tightened. “No, actually, she lives in Busan. Seems your mom kept that from you as well. Your aunt’s been trying to get in contact with you, Y/n. She says she sent letters.”

I stared at the wall across from me. Every limb, every nerve ending, every cell in my body was starting to go numb. It was all too much. My boyfriend was a murderer, my mom’s ex-boyfriend was dead, Taehyung’s dad was missing, and now all of a sudden I had a long-lost aunt who was now my sole guardian?”

“She’s very well off,” the detective continued. “She’s even offered to pay for your mom to get treatment in a rehabilitation facility. Whatever future you have with her is sure to be a bright one.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so. I’ve met her, only briefly, but she seems very nice.”

I let the silence grow between us, not bothering to give a response. The detective finally sighed and sat back down in her chair across from me. “Y/n, Taehyung is going to jail for a very long time. Maybe even for the rest of his life. I suggest you move on with your life. Move to Busan. You’ll attend a great school there, and probably university as well. You can start down an entirely new path.”

The memory of Taehyung’s handsome face swam before my eyes, his bright, boxy smile lighting my insides on fire the way it had for the past year and a half. “What if I don’t want to?” I whispered.

“Well… That’s up to you. But the sooner you move on, the sooner you’ll stop feeling this pain.”

Detective Kwak stood up, motioning for me to stand up as well. “Come on. Your aunt’s waiting.”

We exited the interrogation room, the skin on my face itchy and dry from crying. I knew I probably looked like a mess, but I didn’t care.

“Y/n!” a deep, familiar voice shouted. I froze in my tracks, slowly raising my eyes to his inky ones. He struggled in the grip of two cops, his hands handcuffed behind his back.

“Hey baby girl,” he said, smirking. “Nice of you to come visit me.”

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Detective Kwak hissed.

“You said to move him into the interrogation room.”

“While it’s still occupied?!”

“Don’t worry,” Taehyung quipped. “We can share, right baby?”

“Get him out of here!” Detective Kwak snapped. “Now!”

The cops shoved Taehyung towards the interrogation room. I turned to look at him, desperation clenching at my heart. I realized this might be the last time I saw him, the last time I would get to tell him something. Anything. My mouth opened but no words came out.

“Don’t worry, baby girl!” Taehyung shouted, lurching towards me. “I’ll get out someday! And I’ll come for you! I will always come for you!”

I shook my head and felt tears prick at my eyes once more as the police wrestled with him. “I love you, Y/n!” he shouted just before they shut the door on him.

“Sorry about that,” Detective Kim said, holding a hand to her heaving chest. “You weren’t supposed to cross paths.”

“It’s okay,” I murmured, and to my own surprise, I meant it. I was glad I saw him one last time. I realized, in that moment, that the blue-haired boy I once knew and fell in love with was completely gone. His eyes, which once held a spark of playfulness and mischief, now held nothing but misery and woe. He let his anger for the world overtake him, allowing it to blaze a path of self-destruction that I could no longer follow.

Maybe the detective was right. Despite the fact that Kim Taehyung was the love of my life, maybe, just maybe, it was time to move on.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Part One is HEEEEEEERE! 😉

[starryeyedkoo]

Genre: badboy!au, gang!au, college!au, angst!!, fluff

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: mature language, alcohol use (including mention of underage drinking which i do not condone), violence, minor character death, brief mention of addiction, tsundere jungkook, (cheesy) angst around every. corner. (seriously it never stops i’m sorry)

Word Count: 22.9k (here we go again i’m so sorry)

“Do you regret it?” “What?” “Falling in love with me? It feels like I only weigh you down.” “I’ll let you pull me down to the depths of hell if that’s what it means to love you.”

a/n: this story is just cliche after cliche… because i’m a hoe for cliches, so hopefully it’s not too much hehe. this fic was really self-indulgent and dramatic so be warned !! also this fic was inspired by the dialogue i wrote above (which actually didn’t even make it into the story) and these songs: Harder by Oliver Riot and Someone to Stay by Vancouver Sleep Clinic

You tapped the end of your pencil on the surface of the desk you sat at in an attempt to keep your eyes from drooping shut while you worked on the last few problems of your Statistics test. Your ears zeroed in on every sound present in the room, including the flipping of a page coming from behind you, the sniffling from the boy across the room that has been a persistent provocation for the last hour and a half, and also the boy sitting a seat away from you who huffed out a breath and sent you an irritated glance. You pursed your lips and quickly steadied the grasp of your pencil before it became an even bigger annoyance to him.

After what felt like an excruciatingly long hour and a half, you had finally made it to the end of your test with each problem filled out and just a few seconds to spare. Once time was called, you were quick to make your way to turn in your packet and then you turned straight towards the exit. Just as you were only a few meager steps in front of the professor’s desk, he called you over asking if he could speak with you. “Ms. _____, how was the test?” You stopped short, a little confused as to why he had stopped you from walking straight out of there. Before you could produce an easy answer to quickly end the conversation, he interrupted you, “Please feel free to let me know if you need some extra help. I know statistics isn’t easy, so I understand if you’re struggling a bit.”

Your brows drew together in confusion and you glanced around the room at the last lucky students making their way out before you could, each of them dropping their test packets on the corner of his desk and turning the other way. “What makes you think I need help?” You flashed a pleasant smile to maintain respect towards your teacher.

“Well, as I’m sure you know, the curriculum of our university is especially challenging, and I know it may be a bit of a strain for you,” he offered, gesturing towards you in what you were sure was of a demeaning nature.

The smile melted off your face and you found it difficult to keep your lips from turning down in disbelief. “It’s not too different from anything I’ve had to do before.”

“Is that so?” your professor inquired with a doubtful smirk creeping onto his face, and that had been the last straw.

“Actually,” you corrected, suddenly feeling brave and bold enough to defend yourself, “I believe my private high school’s rigor was much more difficult to tolerate than this, but thank you for your concern.” Your false thankfulness did not extend to your facial features, lips turned into a scowl. “Believe it or not, sir, I made it into this university through hard work, not just connections and thick stacks of cash.” You slammed your test paper down onto his desk, making daring eye contact with him for only a moment before turning to take your leave. “Have a nice day,” you bid him sarcastically, striding out the exit.

As soon as you were far enough to overcome the blinding frustration you had just unleashed, you quickly realized you would most likely regret giving your teacher that attitude, but honestly, he deserved it. Screw him.

After anger came the frustration that you had been facing since you enrolled in this university that had been beating down on you like heavy rain, slowly wearing you out the longer you had to withstand it. Nearly everyone you met would soon make the connection between you and your family name and make assumptions about you, several of them nasty. Your least favorite of the rumors however, and maybe it was because it was the most frequent, was that you paid your way into university. For some reason, people couldn’t seem to fathom the idea of you having a functioning brain, and you were getting sick of it.

During your walk, the sky creeped open and rain began to drizzle down, further dampening your mood. Then in the distance, quickly becoming louder, you heard the boom of the bass from the speakers of a car. Next thing you knew, you saw a convertible with its top down coming down the road, filled to more than its full capacity with young men, and just as you had expected it slowed as it was about to pass you. “Hey, little lady, why don’t you come for a ride with us?” one of the boys offered slyly.

You refused to even pretend to play along though, and instead you just put in your earphones and turned your music up to max volume to drown them out until they had enough fun and turned around. It definitely was not the first time that had happened. Frequently, actually, boys would cross over into this side of town and entertain themselves by messing with the snooty, rich folk. You couldn’t blame them, to be honest. Sometimes you felt the same way. Sometimes, you wished you could disassociate yourself with everything that had to do with this city and start something new where no one had any idea who you or your family were.

You were feeling bored, unfulfilled… You really weren’t sure what it was, but you were feeling just as gray and lifeless as the cloudy sky. The concrete streets and buildings of the city. Even the river’s flowing water displayed a dead, sooty color under the gloomy sky. You began to wonder if your eyes were one day going to reflect the same shade.

“No! Absolutely not! This is ridiculous!” Your mother barked, angrily pressing her finger harshly down onto the remote’s power button as the screen of the television went dark. The news anchor had just been reporting on today’s commencement of the new policy enacted by your city to allow ‘free entry of especially gifted students from less fortunate communities’ into the most prestigious university in your city. “I am paying way too much money to send you to this school to keep you away from these thugs, and now they get to waltz on in there for absolutely no charge?”

By ‘thugs’ she meant, of course, the people from the west side of the city. You barely suppressed the eye roll that crept up on you. “If you really wanted me away from them, you should have let me leave the city like I wanted.”

“Yeah, you far enough away where I can’t keep an eye on you? That won’t be happening.” She shook her head disapprovingly before returning her attention to her laptop, typing away at the keyboard. Suddenly, her phone began to ring, and she quickly scooped it up, composing herself before answering with a business-like greeting and excusing herself from the room.

You sighed, checking your phone for the time, the digital numbers indicating that you had thirty-five minutes until your morning lecture on photography, so you placed your plate in the sink, leaving it for the cleaning service to take care of when they came later in the day, as they did every other day. You scooped up your bag and slipped your shoes on, calling to your mother who was most likely already in her office, “Okay, Mom, I’m heading out!” No response. You gave a quick sigh before mumbling to yourself, “Bye.”

Because your house was conveniently located in the busy part of town, and the university stood just outside the business district, it was a relatively short walk, only about twenty minutes long. Your mother insisted she could have her driver take you to and from classes, but you denied. You would much rather walk than draw more attention to yourself and risk looking like a spoiled brat, even though your college was mostly comprised of students who came from wealthy families like you had.

You quickly decided that stopping for a coffee on the way to class was a poor decision on your part now that you were ever so casually speeding down the last block to get there in time. You were heading to the row just a few back from the front as you always did when you spotted an unfamiliar face in the very seat you had claimed since the beginning of the semester. The rest of the row was practically empty since this was a fairly small class. He seriously couldn’t have picked any other spot?

You slowly approached, careful to keep a friendly smile on your face, especially since he seemed to be a new student. You set your bag in the seat next to him before speaking quietly, “Excuse me, but would you mind moving down a few seats? This is usually where I sit.”

The boy looked up from under his black bangs that fell over his forehead. “Aren’t there plenty of other seats to choose from?” he deadpanned, looking up and down the nearly empty row of seats. The polite smile faltered for a moment before you exaggerated it even more.

“I suppose there are…” you reluctantly agreed through clenched teeth, picking up your bag and moving yourself down a few seats from the boy who was now fiddling with his camera he had brought to class. Just moments later, your professor came in, greeting the class and beginning the lecture. You quickly brought out your notebook and your own camera, and you noticed the eyes of the boy sitting next to you staring intently at your camera. Brows turning down in petty dislike for this new student, you brought your hand up to take the strap and pull it closer to you, not afraid to let him to see your scowl.

After another very long and confusing photography lecture, you were once again puzzled by the assignment you had been given and you reluctantly had to ask your professor for help before you left the classroom. You didn’t think this class would be so difficult. You only took it as an elective for an easy A, but instead it ended up being much more complicated than you had initially anticipated. No matter how much you played around, you couldn’t figure out how to get the perfect picture with the right details like everyone else could. “Professor Choi,” you called for her attention. She looked up from the stack of papers she was arranging at her desk while you slung your bag over your shoulder and approached her with hurried steps. “I just had a quick question about exactly how to use—”

“Ms. _____, I’m sorry, but I cannot keep answering your questions about the functions of your camera. This should be prior knowledge or something to study and experiment with in your own time. If you need help, you should consider getting advice from another student who is more well-versed with a camera.” She suddenly looked behind you and you followed her gaze, finding the same boy still lingering, finally leaving from where he sat. “Like Mr. Jeon, for example,” she gestured to him, and his head perked up at the sound of his name. “He’s one of our new students from the Prodigy Program, Jeon Jungkook, and he possesses extraordinary photography skills. He would be an excellent resource for help. Mr. Jeon, how do you feel about that?”

You were quick to wave your hands in protest, voicing, “No, that’s really not necessary.”

“According to your dropping grade, I believe it is necessary, Ms. _____,” she spoke over the rim of her glasses. You felt your cheeks burn red in humiliation, catching a glimpse of the boy fighting back a smug grin. “Mr. Jeon, please tutor her in the class. She would surely appreciate it. Ms. _____, perhaps you can show him around campus and get him accustomed to the new surroundings in return.”

You stayed silent, listening to the clicking of her heels as she left the both of you behind in the empty classroom. It was silent and stiff, and you were still chewing on your bottom lip in embarrassment, especially in front of the boy with whom you had just hit it off poorly an hour prior. Jungkook suddenly cleared his throat and began to speak, but you had no interest in what he was about to say, so you shoved past him and left without a word.

You almost considered not showing up to the next class, but you swallowed your pride and walked through those doors and quickly made your way to the back corner of the room. You were sure you felt Jungkook’s eyes follow you as you passed by your usual row, where he still sat in your seat. You barely even cared anymore, though. He could have it. You would much rather finish the semester hidden in the back of the classroom.

You took no time in leaving once class was over, heading out the door to quickly reach the fresh air of the outside where you didn’t feel like you had to hold your breath, not forgetting to shoot a glare to Professor Choi as you passed by her desk. You made sure you had enough time to get to class today by choosing to not get a coffee before class started, so you decided now would be the best time to do so. You crossed through the courtyard to get to your usual cafe just outside of the campus.

Once you sat down, you brought out your laptop and your camera in order to finally figure out how this thing worked. You should have done it earlier, but you were discouraged so you let the problem fester for a few more days before finally attacking it. You were fiddling around with a few of the functions that you were reading about on your computer, desperately trying to figure out how to make your pictures look professional. You were finally able to focus once your coffee was ready, but you were once again distracted when you felt eyes on you and you looked up to search around. That’s when you spotted familiar dark bangs under a black hoodie. You quickly looked back down, hoping he hadn’t noticed you, but you soon realized he was sauntering directly over to the table you sat at.

He dropped himself down onto the chair across from yours, but he only sat there, waiting for you to say something first. “Can I help you?” you offered grumpily.

“No, but I can help you.” He still stared with the nonchalant, blank expression, which for some reason made his presence even more irritating. You ignored his offer and instead became accusing.

“How did you even know I was here? Did you follow me or something?” You looked him over suspiciously.

An impassive smirk grew on one side of his lips. “I may have seen you come this way.” You scoffed, still wondering why he would have gone out of his way to come here. “Aw, come on. Don’t be like that. I’m new around here. I’ve got no one to talk to.”

You raised a brow in disbelief. “So you came to talk to me?”

His lips suddenly turned down and his playful demeanor switched off. He leaned forward in his chair, his voice suddenly holding a deeper tone as he spoke lowly, “What, is the pretty little rich girl too good for me?” You were suddenly taken aback and your eyes went round. “Surprised?” he continued with an angry snort. “It wasn’t hard to figure out. People around campus seem to like to talk about you.”

Your shoulders drooped at the thought. “Yeah, they sure do,” you sighed, suddenly frustrated at your unavoidable reputation within your school. “I guess that’s what happens when your dad is the founder of one of the biggest tech supplier companies in Korea. Well… was. My mom took his place as CEO now, but technically it’s—” You noticed you began rambling and had already said way more than you needed to, so you quickly clamped your mouth shut, but you couldn’t stop yourself from opening it again to ramble nervously. “Sorry, I don’t know why I even brought that up,” you laughed lamely, leaning back into your seat.

Jungkook straightened himself up suddenly and his voice became strangely unnatural. “Tech supplier, huh?” You noticed something seemed rather insincere, as if his mind was preoccupied. “What about your dad? Where is he now?” He suddenly inquired casually.

Your brows shot up for only a moment before your form deflated when you answered his question. “He’s… He’s dead, actually.”

Jungkook’s eyes suddenly widened before he mumbled, “I’m sorry.” He looked remorseful, but his eyes were also unfocused and distracted, making you unsure if you should actually take his condolences seriously.

You squinted your eyes in confusion, but you ignored the weird feeling it gave you. You gave a quick smile, picking yourself up and moving on from the topic. “It’s alright. It happened a long time ago.”

Jungkook’s eyes focused back on you after he shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Anyways,” he began, steering away from the saddening subject, “I’ll help you if you need me to.”

You debated the decision for a moment, but with one look back at the indecipherable directions on the screen of your computer, you decided getting his help would be the best option. “You know what, I would actually love your help,” you sighed, taking the last sip of your coffee. You looked at the time and realized that it had been much later than you anticipated, and knowing your mother, you would soon be receiving frantic messages and phone calls wondering where you were. “But can I take a raincheck on that? I should really be going.” You gave an apologetic smile, quickly packing up your things into your backpack and waving goodbye before you hurried back home.

After the next class, you both walked to the cafe together where Jungkook would give his first lesson on how to use a camera properly and how to take the perfect picture. You smiled while sitting down after you both ordered a drink. “Again, I’m sorry that you have to spend your time teaching me how to use a camera. I can’t believe I have to get tutored in photography of all things.”

“There’s no shame in a bad grade,” he impassively remarked, hanging his leather jacket over the back of his chair before sitting across from you. “Also, not to call you out or anything, but if you want to learn more, it’s probably not the best idea to sit in the back corner during class,” he lazily raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged your shoulders, agreeing, “Yeah that’s probably true, but it’s not easy getting humiliated by your professor.”

Jungkook’s lips turned down in nonchalance. “Why do you even care what she says? I sure as hell wouldn’t.”

You looked down and traced the lines in the wood that made the table with your finger. “Yeah. I guess I’m just tired of my professors thinking that I don’t belong in this school. Most of them seem to think I’m only here because I paid my way in, and that I don’t have any actual brains,” you scowled.

He sat there, face contorted in a mix of several different emotions, but he seemed apprehensive to express what he was thinking. Usually, you would feel like an idiot if someone reacted that way to anything you said, but there was something about Jungkook doing it that made it… not so bad? You had a feeling he wasn’t the type to be a fan of “deep conversations” like these, judging by the awkward hesitance as his face twitched in thought, seemingly unable to let any expression through his ever-calm-and-collected front.

Jungkook brushed it off and suddenly he reached across the table to bring your camera closer to him to examine. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here.” He played around with a few of the buttons and twisted the lense this way and that, looking through the viewfinder, then he shook his head in disbelief. “Unbelievable! I knew I recognized the model. You’ve got the best fucking camera money can buy and you don’t even know how to use it.” You would have been offended, but then you saw the small smile that appeared on his lips, and it was the first time you had seen one that was genuine, so you stayed quiet and let him enjoy the moment. “God, I would kill for one of these…” He continued looking through the viewfinder and snapping a few pictures for what now seemed like his own amusement instead of figuring out how it worked.

“Yeah, you really seem to like it,” you smirked, waiting patiently for him to be satisfied. He froze at your remark and quickly set the camera down, clearing his throat and leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. You couldn’t help but laugh at how quickly he wiped that smile from his face when he was caught breaking his tough exterior.

He quickly wet his lips and straightened up in his seat as he began his lesson. “Okay then, let’s start with the basics.” You nodded eagerly, excited to finally gain some knowledge about a camera and hopefully be able to use it decently from now on. “The first thing you should know about is exposure. There’s three elements that make up exposure and those are aperture, shutter speed, and the ISO,” he slowly explained, pointing to each of the places on the camera that controlled each of these elements. You tried your best to follow along, but you found yourself getting distracted by the rings Jungkook wore on his fingers, and then your eyes traveled over his alarmingly good-looking hands and up the veins that ran up his forearm and suddenly you couldn’t hear a word he was saying. You shook your head lightly, trying to tune back in to Jungkook’s teaching, and this time you actually focused on his voice, but not necessarily the words it produced, but the velvety smooth sound of it.

No. This was not happening. You nervously downed the rest of your cooling coffee and looked at your phone in a panic, attempting to reel yourself back in. “You okay?” he asked in confusion, eyes flickering between you and your empty coffee cup when you unintentionally slammed it down onto the table.

Your eyes widened as you shook your head in dismissal. “N-no! I mean, yes! Everything’s fine.” He narrowed his gaze at you in doubt, but he didn’t bother to push it anyway. “Listen,” you began, eyes darting away from his gaze nervously, picking up your phone and looking for an excuse. “I actually am running short on time. I should be going.”

“I thought you had until—”

You gathered your things before standing up, chair screeching against the tiled floors. “I know,” you interrupted, wearing a guilty smile, “but my mom just texted me and she needs me.” You started toward the exit before skidding to a stop and turning back to him, still sitting there a little dumbfounded. “Can we meet after next class? No interruptions this time, I promise.” He answered with a simple nod, so you waved goodbye and pushed your way through the exit, taking a large sigh of relief once you had reached safety.

You felt bad that you had looked for an excuse to see him again, but you couldn’t help it. As much as you hated to admit it, he was undeniably attractive, and honestly, it was already driving you crazy. Besides, he still has to teach you about your camera, and you felt bad that you cut his lesson off, but you had to get out of there or else you may have lost it. You weren’t supposed to be getting distracted by a pretty face! No one had ever been able to so easily mess with your mind, but Jungkook wasn’t just anyone. He was mysterious and confusing and alluring and you were falling for it just like a cheesy romance novel protagonist. And that was terrifying because what would your mother think? You don’t know why you thought that really mattered, though. It’s just physical attraction and that can easily be ignored.

Turns out being physically attracted to someone is not so easily ignored. Here you were at the cafe sitting across from Jungkook, still completely and utterly blown away by the natural beauty of this man in front of you that you had never bothered to notice in anyone else. Not to mention, it only became more difficult to ignore that ticklish feeling in your stomach now that you’ve gotten to know him and the little quirks in his personality that he seems to suppress almost naturally, making you wonder how long he’s had to put up a front throughout his life.

“I’ve got you all figured out,” Jungkook insisted, pointing a finger in your direction, successfully snapping you out of your troubling internal monologue.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back with a challenging brow lifted. “Is that so?” You were much less timid than you had been the first time Jungkook had tried to teach you photography basics. You two had met several times now, and things had slowly become more natural between the two of you You came to enjoy his company, and you hoped it was safe to assume the same on his end. You still passed these meetings at the cafe off as “study sessions,” but you rarely got any tutoring done anymore, opting instead for conversation over a cup of coffee. Does that make you two friends? You weren’t exactly sure for yourself, and that was something you would never actually ask Jungkook, knowing he would probably find it awkward to actually talk about, even if he did consider you a friend.

“You’re just like the main character of all those cliche movies,” he explained, bringing you down from your cloudy thoughts yet again. “You’re the sheltered, well-behaved daughter who wants to rebel by doing something like getting a secret tattoo or falling for the bad boy. Tell me, am I irresistible?” He wore a cocky smirk that you were so tempted to wipe off with a slap to the face in your embarrassment, though you couldn’t help but laugh anyway. Your face burned crimson, which you hoped wouldn’t give you away, because right now, you were afraid he was dead on.

You searched desperately for a response to get him back, but as far as you knew, he was unbreakable, so you were forced to give up and retreat. “Yeah, right! I’m going to get my coffee,” you mumbled, standing up in attempt to escape and recuperate.

“Don’t worry. I already ordered it for you,” his voice came from behind. It was unusually soft compared to his normally gruff tone, and he looked out the window instead of at you. Was it just you or was he… shy?

“Oh!” you abruptly swiveled back, seeing a cup already placed on your side of the table. You picked it up to examine, looking for the markings to show its ingredients. “Is it—”

“It’s just the way you like it. I promise.”

You began digging through your purse in search of your wallet. “Let me pay you back, then,” you offered, pulling out a ten dollar bill when you were unable to find any smaller bills, not minding if he had to keep the change.

“No, don’t worry about it. My treat.” He shook his head, making no moves toward the cash held out in front of him.

“No, really take it,” you insisted, holding out the money, practically shoving it into his grip, but he only waved your hand away. “It’s the least I can do. You’re already helping me out for nothing in return.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve got money—maybe not as much as you, princess—but it’s enough to keep me going.” You hated that his nickname had such an immediate effect on you, causing the same blush to reappear on your face. You didn’t want to draw more of his attention to you while your face was on fire, so you quickly gave up, retracting your hand and putting the money back into your wallet with a deep sigh. Jungkook perked up with an idea suddenly, leaning his forearms onto the table as he spoke. “Actually, I do have a way you could pay me back.” You nodded, waiting for his request. “I have a paper due for English 101 on Monday, and that class isn’t my strong suit. You’re good at English, right? Could you help me out with that?”

“Sure, I can look over that and help you revise it if you need me to. Have you finished so I can go ahead and look over it now?” you asked, already waiting for him to bring out his computer and show you his finished product.

You watched his tongue roll on the inside of his cheek and met his eyes that only held a blank stare. “I haven’t started.”

“What?” you shrieked. “Jungkook! That paper is due in two days, and you have none of it done? Those aren’t easy to rush, you know.” You scolded him, and he fluttered his eyes shut, exhaling slowly, as if he had expected that exact reaction from you. He only shrugged as a response, making you even more frustrated with the boy. “Okay, well I guess we need to meet up tomorrow to get that done, but the cafe’s closed on Sundays, so maybe we should meet in the courtyard.” You looked to him for any sort of confirmation or objection, but he only continued to listen uninterestedly, eliciting an exasperated huff from you. “Sure, we’ll do that. A little fresh air could do us some good anyway. Meet me at six.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t put just a little bit of effort into your appearance today. Definitely not because you were meeting Jungkook, though. You just didn’t have to wake up as early as usual, so you just happened to feel like putting on makeup and planning a nicer outfit as opposed to a hoodie and leggings like you wear for almost every single class.

You texted Jungkook to meet you at the right-most bench in the courtyard at six, but it was now almost a quarter after and there was still no sign of him. You slowly grew more impatient as each minute passed by and it took a considerable amount of effort to keep yourself from sending him a second text asking him where he was. Finally, you saw him jogging towards you from the path adjacent to where you sat, making you breathe in relief and you were about to berate him, but you quickly stopped yourself after one look at his dishevelled state and his slight limp that wasn’t hard to miss. Your eyes trailed him up and down in concern as you quickly stood up to meet him. “What the hell happened to you?” you asked, hands twitching by your sides as you fought the urge to brush away the hair hanging down in his face.

He beat you to it, luckily, as he swept his hair back and shook his head, dismissing the matter. “It’s nothing. I was just in a hurry. Sorry I’m late.” He plopped down onto the bench and you followed just after, still keeping your eyes trained on him in worry. When you put your hand down, you felt it land on top of his own, so you quickly picked it back and and instinctually looked down to wear his hand propped up his upper body and you didn’t miss the blot of scarlet on his knuckles.

You didn’t hesitate in taking his hand into your own now, bringing it up to make sure your eyes were not deceiving you. “You’re bleeding!” you pointed out to him, looking at the red that painted each of his knuckles.

He hummed, taking a careless glance before quickly wiping it off on his jeans, leaving a stain that your eyes focused on in disbelief before directing your rounded eyes back up to his face. He squinted at your reaction, clearly not nearly as interested as you were. “What? I was in a rush, and I fell. That’s all,” he insisted, opening his laptop to move on and get started on his paper.

Your eyes zeroed in on the skin just below his eye that was beginning to take on a dark hue. “I’d believe you if your eye weren’t turning blue right now.” His hand came up to touch his eye without thinking and you could see that he barely winced before he shook his head and continued to open up a document on his computer. You continued to stare patiently, but he made no move to relieve your concerns. “Are you gonna tell me what happened or not?”

He scoffed, clicking his tongue with eyes still focused on the screen in front of him. “I already did. The black eye is because my face hit the ground.” He turned to you to still find you scrutinizing him, but he chose to ignore it and get straight into writing the essay. He began to read the prompt aloud until he stopped when he felt a large drop of water fall onto his cheek, and at just about the same moment, you felt the same on your thigh. You both looked up and saw the dark clouds that had drifted in from a distance. Suddenly, as if someone had flipped a switch to go right on cue, the sky opened up and rain came crashing down on the city with a crack of thunder to top it all off.

After only a few moments, you were already much too wet for your own liking, so you dragged Jungkook behind you to the nearest awning of a building to stand under. “Great,” you murmured, already shivering from the chill of your damp clothes. “Now what are we gonna do?”

Jungkook sighed and looked out at the droplets that poured down just a few inches in front of him while drying off the screen of his laptop with his shirt. “You know, it’s okay. I’ll figure something out. You don’t have to help.”

“No. I want to help. I need to after how much you’ve helped me,” you insisted. You tapped your chin in thought of a place to seek refuge from the rain, and the only place that came to mind was home. Home, however, was a risk since there was the chance that your mother would be home, but she usually worked even on Sundays, and you didn’t think there was any reason she wouldn’t be working today, so you decided that would be your best option. “We can go to my place to write this.”

You heard Jungkook mutter behind you, but you couldn’t make out what he said as you built up enough courage and went back out into the cold rain. You glanced behind you to see Jungkook hastily stuffing his laptop back into his bag and reluctantly following behind. Your teeth began to chatter and you crossed your arms over your chest to maintain some body heat. You heard Jungkook’s quiet voice, not quite able to understand what he had said, but he pulled you closer to him and had taken his leather jacket off, now holding it over both of your heads to keep the heavy flow of rain from beating down on you any longer. You blushed at the thoughtful act and your whole body began to feel warmer within moments.

Suddenly what you were sure would be a long, miserable walk went by much faster than you had expected, except for the fact that a jacket could only do so much and you were both still soaking wet and cold. You unlocked the front door and kicked off your soggy shoes, and Jungkook followed, and you told him to wait where he was on the doormat. You came back with a towel for each of you to dry off with. You wrapped the plush cloth around you tightly after squeezing out your dripping hair. To be honest, you hadn’t really thought this far ahead, so now you both stood in the doorway wondering what to do with your still very wet bodies that could easily damage the expensive furniture in your house.

You heard the front door just behind Jungkook begin to open and he quickly stepped out of the way before getting hit with it. Your heart dropped. It was your mother. She took in the scene with a bewildered appearance, eyes drifting from you, soaking wet with eyes like those of a deer caught in headlights to the equally damp boy with the leather jacket, forming black eye, and blood stain on his jeans.

“_____, who’s this?” she inquired with a strained smile, eyes flickering between the two of you. You had a feeling Jungkook could easily sense the tension because you saw him shift awkwardly between his feet.

“Mom, I didn’t think you’d be home. This is Jungkook. I’m helping him with English. We’re in the same class.”

“Oh, you go to college with _____? Where are you from Jungkook?” You could see from the look in her eye that she was testing him. She already knew, but she never thought that you would actually be dumb enough to bring someone like him into her house.

There was a moment of silence where you could tell he was thinking carefully about what to say, and you tried to step in and answer for him with something safe that you hoped your mother would accept and maybe even make her think her assumption was wrong—although that was entirely unlikely—but he spoke over you. “I don’t know if you’re familiar with my part of town. It’s west of the river.” You shrunk when you saw the forced smile slide off your mother’s features. You glanced to Jungkook. You never would have guessed from the calmness of his voice, but there was a certain challenging glint in his eyes.

“I see. I never thought I’d see the day when my daughter brought someone like you into my home.” She gave you a once over and you fluttered your eyes shut in shame that you knew you had no reason to feel and shouldn’t be feeling, but that look on your mother’s face never failed to make you feel guilty for absolutely anything.

Jungkook’s tongue poked into his cheek and he laughed dryly. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll keep my grubby hands to myself.” Your mother’s eyes widened at his rebellious response, and you quickly ushered him up the stairs to prevent any other confrontation that might have occurred had you not intervened.

Once you reached the top of the stairs and achieved peace for the present moment, you led Jungkook to your bedroom and quickly shut the door behind you, dragging your hands down your face in embarrassment and guilt and frustration and... you weren’t even sure what you were feeling at the moment. Jungkook still wore a scowl on his face when you peeked through your fingers,  and he spoke, “No offense, but your mom’s kind of a bitch.”

You groaned and kept your hands where they covered your face, too afraid to meet his intense gaze. “I know. I’m so sorry.” You finally let your hands fall to your sides, defeatedly. “I didn’t think she would be home, so I didn't think we would have this problem.”

You were at a loss for words, disappointed and embarrassed, until you finally let out in a small voice, “She’s not really like that, or at least she wasn’t always. She’s just hurt.” Jungkook didn’t even have to make a move before you elaborated, hopeful to give him some sort of explanation he would accept. “My father was killed by a gang member from the other side of town, and she just hasn’t been the same since.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said equally as quietly as his eyes shifted to the ground. You saw his jaw clench and realized you were probably making him uncomfortable, so you dropped yourself onto your plush bed and patted the space beside you to beckon him to follow.

“Let’s get started on this paper, then,” you began jovially, although it was obvious to the both of you that the change of mood was at least partially forced.

Jungkook took slow steps to join you where you sat and released a quick sigh. “We’re not all like that.” Jungkook’s fingers were intertwined with each other while his elbows rested on his knees and his head was facing you, yet his eyes did not meet your own.

A soft, guilty smile grew on your lips. “It’s okay. I know.” You chewed on your bottom lip, lost in thought after your failure to divert from the subject. You were determined this time, however, as you motioned for him to bring out his laptop, asking, “Alright. What’s your topic?”

He laid his computer on his lap and handed you a paperback novel. “It’s a character analysis on a character of choice from this book.” You observed the illustrated cover and read the title. Luckily, you had read the novel before, so you could better help Jungkook write the essay. “I don’t know which character to write about though.”

You hummed in thought and flipped through the pages, briefly looking for names to jog your memory. “Well, the main character is the obvious choice, so if you want to impress your professor, that’s not the way to go. Were there any particular characters that interested you?”

Jungkook stared for a moment, but only shook his head in response, saying, “No. I didn’t even like the book.”

You frowned to yourself for a moment, remembering how much you had enjoyed reading the same book. You thought of the most memorable character and suggested to him, “What about Maxine? She was a major character and her story can be interpreted in several different ways, especially with how her relationship with Vernon developed.”

Jungkook scowled shaking his head. “She was the worst character. She couldn’t even take care of her own kid, let alone someone else’s. That’s why the whole plot seemed pointless to me.”

“Well, she was an addict, but throughout the story you could see her battling with her addiction for the sake of her son and everyone else who cared about her. She wasn’t able to succeed in keeping her son in the end, but her good characteristics shine through and that’s what you can write your paper about.”

“She was a shitty character and she didn’t care about her son, but if you want to insist I write the paper on her, then you can just write it for me.” Jungkook dropped the computer on the mattress in the space between you and pushed himself up off the bed, turning his back to you.

Your brows creased in concern as you stood up just a few steps behind him. You tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, wait, I didn’t mean to upset you. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. You’re just being annoying.”

He pushed your hand off of his shoulder and turned around to look at you, face still hardened. Your expression imitated his own, and you questioned impatiently, “Do you want me to help you or not?” Jungkook’s nostrils flared before his tensed arms folded over his chest dropped to his sides and he went back to his seat at the bed. You only observed him for a moment before you gave in and joined him once again, handing his laptop back to him and deciding to ignore the matter for now.

After a few hours of focusing solely on the paper, you both had finished and the final result was definitely worthy of a good grade. The majority of the time had passed in silence, with you leading most of the conversation and helping him with writing rules and him adding his own ideas to the paper silently. His quietness did not go unnoticed by you, though.

Jungkook was adding the finishing touches, and finally he closed his computer to pack it away. Meanwhile, you were debating bringing up the issue that had been weighing on you throughout the writing process of his essay. “Jungkook,” you began nervously, “I don’t know exactly what it was that made you so upset, but I’m sorry.” You glanced up to Jungkook, and you were sure you saw his hardened gaze become neutral as he noticed your eyes on him. “You can talk to me about whatever it is that’s bothering you, though. Just so you know.” One end of your mouth quirked up in an attempt to be comforting without overstepping your boundaries.

Jungkook rolled his head from one shoulder to the other, propping himself up on his hands. His eyes stayed on the corner of the ceiling as he explained. “I guess I just see a lot of resemblance between my own mother and Maxine.” Jungkook shuffled his feet on the ground before continuing, “I guess now that you explain it though, Maxine was actually better than her when it comes down to it.”

You watched silently as his brows pulled together in concentration on the floor below him. You could tell he had been hurt, though you weren’t exactly sure how, but you didn’t expect him to elaborate any further. You sighed in thought and melted further into your bed. “Don’t go feeling sorry for me, now. It never actually mattered to me.” You almost pointed out the mirthless smile that spread across his lips, but kept your mouth shut tightly in a moment of hesitation. It wasn’t difficult to see that he was suppressing his emotions, and you knew he would eventually pay for having done that for probably a majority of his life, but you were afraid to push your thoughts onto him seeing how he had a habit of shutting down whenever he had to express something real.

Jungkook cleared his throat, suddenly ushering you out of your thoughts and you hadn’t even realized that you had been staring the whole time. Your eyes darted away, but you didn’t miss the silent chuckle that came forth from Jungkook’s lips. With your face burning red, you diverted your attention to the time on your phone screen, gasping, “I didn’t even realize it had gotten so late.” You stood up, pulling back your curtains and peeking outside to see the sun had already set. “You shouldn’t walk home at this time of night. Do you want me to get you an Uber?” you worried, already pulling up the app on your phone.

He placed his hand on the rim of your phone, pulling it down to get your attention, chuckling, “I’m fine. I can handle myself.”

You pressed your lips together, concerned, still hesitating to let him go when you could help. He already picked up his bag and threw it over his shoulder, however, so you were forced to digress as he began to walk away. You followed him down the stairs toward the front door, requesting, “Fine, but text me when you get home safely.”

Jungkook couldn’t hold back his laughter, throwing a look over his shoulder at you. “Don’t smother me.”

“I’m not!” you countered with a grin. You crossed your arms over your chest at the breeze let in as Jungkook turned to face you one last time on the front porch.

Jungkook looked over your shoulder and the fraction of a smile that had been present on his lips faded away. “I’ll see you later, _____.”

You bid him farewell in return and in the next moment he was descending the front steps and on his way home. You closed the door and you were once again surrounded by the warmth of the inside, but your goosebumps did not go away when you saw your mother who had been standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching as he left. The both of you made eye contact for a few moments before she wordlessly turned and walked back into the kitchen, and you did the same, slinking back into your room as if you hadn’t seen her.

You laid on your bed, finishing up studying for class the next day, when your eyes shifted down to the numbers displayed in the bottom right corner of the screen. It was almost midnight. Jungkook should have gotten home by now, but the multiple times you had checked, even in the moment, you still received no message. You took it upon yourself to make sure he made it back alright.

‘Did you get home safely?’ You sighed throwing your phone down next to you, not expecting him to respond anytime soon since he was always very flaky with texting.

Your screen lit up within a few minutes however with a new message from Jungkook. You quickly slid your thumb across the screen and unlocked your phone to read his reply. ‘yes.’ It was short and simple, like his messages always were. He was a man of few words on all levels. However, for some reason, you couldn’t help the giddy feeling you got, your lip caught between your smiling teeth at the thought that—though highly unlikely—his quick reply meant that he had been waiting for you to say something first. You felt silly, like you were a freshman in high school all over again, but the feeling was nonetheless welcomed.

Your fingers speedily typed back, ‘Good. You had me worried for a second there.’ You patiently watched the screen for a while until the read receipt popped up under your message. However, there was no indication of a reply coming your way, and you rolled your eyes at the far too familiar scenario. You lifted your head up for a moment, letting your eyes scan around your room for no particular reason until they landed on a black bag in the corner of your room. It resurfaced a thought that had been lingering in the back of your mind for a while now, and you decided now was as good a time as any to confront it. Typing once more on your phone, you sent one more message to Jungkook. ‘Can we meet at the cafe tomorrow? There’s something I want to give to you.’

Suspecting Jungkook’s record-time reply was a one-time-only kind of thing, you placed your phone on your nightstand and closed your computer up, laying back in your bed to finally get some sleep for class the next day.

You sat at your usual table in the far corner of the cafe, waiting with both of your drinks already ordered and paid for in return for last time. Luckily, today, you weren’t kept waiting for long as Jungkook came walking in relatively on time with a black baseball cap pulled down tightly. As soon as he sat, you ducked your head and discovered the reason for his not-so-subtle accessorization. His eye had become darker than it was the day before. You clicked your tongue reaching over and lifting the cap to get a better look at it, fighting against Jungkook’s grip to hold it in place.

“Must have been quite a fall, huh?” you observed with an incredulous glare. Jungkook only silently nodded. You both knew that you knew he was lying, but no one said a word. After a moment of thought, you inhaled sharply and bent down to where the black bag sat next to you, pulling out the object of interest. “Right. I have something for you.”

Jungkook observed with a raised brow and watched as you pulled out your camera that he had seen countless times before. You placed it on the table and grinned, waiting for any sort of response, but Jungkook’s eyes only flickered between you and the camera cluelessly. “What?” he finally gave in and questioned.

You rolled your eyes dramatically and pushed the camera across the little table closer to him. “I’m giving you the camera!”

Jungkook’s eyes were suddenly huge and his mouth hung open for a mere second in disbelief. “You can’t be serious. This camera costs a lot of money. Why would you just give it to me?”

Your eyes trailed down and you shrugged slightly. “I don’t know, you just got so excited when you saw it the first time that I’ve been thinking about how much more you deserved it since then. After this semester ends, I won’t even want to touch a camera again, but you love photography, so it’s much better in your hands.”

“Why don’t you just keep it until the end of the semester, then? There’s only a few more weeks.” His eyes were glued to the object in front of him like a child looks at a candy bar.

“I’ll get a different camera, a cheaper one, and that way you can use that one for the final project.” Jungkook still looked hesitant, looking to you one final time for some sort of approval. Your laugh bubbled up inside of you. “It’s yours! Take it.” His hands took hold of the camera in no time, a beaming smile on his face, as he began snapping pictures of anything and everything in sight. He took one of the tree just outside the window, then a picture of the two coffee mugs placed beside each other on the table, stopping to take a look at the results for just a moment before diving right back into it.

You weren’t even sure what made you want to give him the camera all of a sudden, but as you watched him, you realized it was probably because of that childlike smile on his face. Every once in a while, he was unable to uphold his strong exterior and instead he just let it down and showed a completely different side of himself, one that very few were ever lucky enough to see. It made you happy that you were one of the few.

Suddenly, you noticed that the camera lens had been pointed directly at you. You tried to bring your hands up to hide your face, but Jungkook was already looking at the result, signalling you had been too late. “Delete that!” you whined as Jungkook laughed obnoxiously, jerking the camera away from you as you tried to take it away from him. When he looked at the picture, his laughing grin turned into a softer smile. “Jungkook, please get rid of that. I probably looked so—”

“You look…” he cut you off, stopping mid sentence in thought. He looked up to you for a mere moment and then back down to the picture. “...beautiful.” At that moment you were completely floored, unable to say anything else. In the dead silence between the two of you, it was as if Jungkook had just registered what he said, and he quickly set down the camera, looking out the window because he had no idea where else to look.

You bit down on your lip to hold back the smile that wanted so desperately to spread across your face, pushing a few stray strands of hair back behind your ear. “Thank you,” you mumbled. Jungkook still looked out the window, but you heard a laugh get caught in his throat, which escalated to both of you giggling and blushing like idiots. Anyone walking by would look at the both of you and think you’re just a pair of awkward teenagers falling in love. Maybe that’s exactly what you were.

Your mother would kill you if she knew what you were doing right now. Jungkook wanted to kick off summer vacation with something new. You were hesitant at first, but Jungkook was able to coerce you into it, so now you found yourself in Jungkook’s side of the city, a place you had never ventured to before. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little scared, especially because of the way your mother described it, whether it was completely true or not, but it definitely didn’t help when Jungkook told you to stay close to him, which made your heart beat faster for two completely different reasons.

After passing through a dark alley that gave you goosebumps, Jungkook led you to a beaten up little building. You read the glowing sign at the top dubbing the building Roy’s Diner. “You brought me all the way here to eat?” you asked Jungkook doubtfully.

“Trust me. It’s worth it. The food here is amazing.” Jungkook walked a few steps ahead of you and looked back to see you examining the restaurant. You weren’t one to judge a book by its cover, but you weren’t even sure how this place was passing any kind of building inspections. “Come on, it’s one of my favorite places. It was in real bad shape a few years ago and on the brink of closing down.”

“Well, if you love this place so much, you should work to fix it up and save it. I’d be willing to help, too, if you want,” you offered.

Jungkook looked at you like you were crazy. “Save it? What are you talking about? It’s already been fixed up. The place is thriving now!” He gestured grandly to the building, causing you to give it a doubtful second examination. You weren’t exactly sure what his definition of ‘thriving’ was, but it must be vastly different from yours judging by the flickering neon sign and the walls that desperately needed painting and, quite frankly, looked like they could very well cave in on themselves soon. You gave him a tight smile, but he only rolled his eyes. “Look, it may not look like all those fancy restaurants you’re used to, but I promise, I’m about to introduce you to the best fries and milkshake you have ever tasted in your life. Nothing beats Roy’s cooking.”

After Jungkook had grabbed your hand and practically dragged you inside, you were met with a much different atmosphere than what you were expecting. It was unexpectedly warm and cozy inside, and the loud chatter and laughter coming from all around almost made it feel like you were at a rowdy Thanksgiving dinner. Suddenly almost everyone that had been engrossed in a conversation turned towards the door to see the two of you had arrived. There was a deafening chorus of greetings to Jungkook, mostly from the older folks at the bar and surrounding tables whom Jungkook dragged you over to. Only after Jungkook gave almost each and every one of them a hug, which was much to your surprise, did some of the older women notice you were there. “Oh, Jungkook! You finally got yourself a girl and brought her here to meet us!” one of the women practically shouted as another tried to pinch Jungkook’s cheek while he quickly tried to maneuver away.

Jungkook rubbed at the back of his neck, finally realizing he still held your hand in his own and quickly released his grip, much to your disappointment. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s a friend from college, and I brought her here so she could try Roy’s famous food for the first time and change her life forever.”

Several of them chimed in, greeting you after you introduced yourself shyly. Jungkook went to grab a menu for you, and the ladies took it as an opportunity to chat some more with you. “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“No, I’m not actually.” You could barely even hear their responses since they all talked over each other, and although you had expected at least some of them to draw conclusions and figure out you were from the other side of town and treat you differently, they all still gave you friendly smiles.

Jungkook came back just in time to save you from more of their questions, thankfully, and brought you up to the counter to order food from the restaurant owner he introduced you to, Roy. You ended up getting a burger with the infamous fries and milkshake Jungkook kept going on about. Over dinner, much of the topic of conversation stayed on you and mostly Jungkook since, as many of his friends implied, he hadn’t visited recently. You ended up loving the atmosphere and how close everyone seemed to be. Even Roy would talk with everyone in between orders, and though you had never met anyone before, everyone was welcoming and open to talk with you. In fact, they were eager to see you and to see that Jungkook “has some friends his own age” as they teased.

You were finally finishing up your milkshake as the sky was just becoming dark, and the restaurant, while still buzzing, had quieted down considerably enough to have a conversation at normal volume. Jungkook had left you sitting at the counter alone while he went to the bathroom, and you couldn’t hold back the smile to yourself thinking about the way he interacted with all these people he seemed to be so close to. You looked up as Roy stood on the other side of the counter from you, cleaning a glass with a towel. “You seem like a great girl. I’m glad Jungkook met someone like you.”

You blushed, expecting him to only make some simple small talk while Jungkook wasn’t around. “Oh… I wouldn’t say it like that.” You laughed nervously, pushing stray hair back out of your face. “We’re only friends. We just talk sometimes.” ‘Sometimes’ was a bit of an understatement you realized, but it seemed most of the people got the impression that you were Jungkook’s girlfriend, which unfortunately wasn’t the case.

“Let me let you in on a little secret. Don’t tell Jungkook I told you this, but he doesn’t bring just anyone here. These people are like his second family, and if he thinks you’re good enough to meet them, then you’re pretty darn special.”

You couldn’t help the butterflies from fluttering in your stomach at the thought. A sudden thought came to you and you bit your lip, wondering if it would be appropriate to ask. You decided it probably wouldn’t hurt, grabbing Roy’s attention once again. “Sorry, you said this is like his second family?” He nodded easily. “Well, if you don’t mind me asking, who’s the first?” You questioned carefully, hoping it wasn’t too forward or prying of you to wonder about such things. You knew that Jungkook’s parents were out of the picture, so you tried to imagine who else he would be close with besides the people in this room.

Roy stayed silent for only a moment before both of you saw in the corner the door to the restrooms swing open and Jungkook wiping his hands dampened from the sink on his shirt. As Jungkook made his way back to take the seat next to you, Roy gave a tight smile and a quick nod to hastily end the conversation. Your forehead creased in confusion, wondering why there had so suddenly been something secretive come up. You smiled as Jungkook came and took his seat next to you again, but you couldn’t quite wipe the puzzlement off your face. “What’s wrong?” Jungkook suddenly asked, throwing his arm over your shoulder, which you were sure was only a product of him being just a little bit tipsy.

“Nothing.” You shook your head.

After Jungkook had walked you home that night, you were met with a very displeased mother. You did stay out a little late, you admit, but you should have that freedom. You’re a fully functioning adult, yet here you are, getting lectured by your mother. Though it wasn’t all bad, especially since you weren’t paying an ounce of attention. Instead you were thinking about Jungkook walking you home just minutes before. He had a few drinks at the diner, so he was a bit more carefree than he was on a usual basis, so the entire way home, you had the pleasure of feeling the warmth of his hand wrapped around yours and for a moment everything felt so real.

And that’s when you realized there was no turning back. Your hand felt empty now that his wasn’t there anymore and there were too many lingering butterflies to be ignored. Again, maybe this is the result of the tiniest bit of alcohol that you’re hoping desperately your mother doesn’t smell on you right now since you were still technically underage.

The thought of your mother ruined it all though. The warm fuzzy feeling became cold as you remember that as long as she had a say, being with Jungkook was out of the question. You could take one look at him and easily see he was the epitome of a boy your mother would never approve of, with his all black clothes and leather jackets, his pierced ears, his dark yet endearing—at least in your eyes—humor. Your mother would keel over if you ever revealed you had feelings for him.

And this was assuming that Jungkook even felt the same way about you. But there had to be something there, right? You felt like with how you easy it was to talk to each other, and how much Jungkook has opened up to you, not to mention those few tender moments that you two never spoke about, it seemed pretty obvious there was something between the two of you. It couldn’t all just be in your head. Though you were still terrified, you came to the conclusion that you would let Jungkook know exactly what you were thinking and see what happens from there.

Making a decision that you would confess to Jungkook did not make it any easier to actually do it. You had never been the one to make the first move in the past, and Jungkook being the person of interest made it even scarier. Jungkook was coming over to your house so you could help him study for English, and your heart was beating erratically while waiting for the doorbell to ring. You couldn’t sit still and eventually began pacing in the living room, and you weren’t even sure if you were going to tell him today. However, today would be a good day, since your mom isn’t home and home is the best place to do it. If he turns you down, there won’t be any public embarrassment. So basically today is the perfect day to do it. So basically you have to do it. You began to pull at your hair in distress when finally the doorbell rang, and you probably answered it way too fast. As Jungkook greeted you, he smirked as he looked at the top of your head, smoothing down the hair that you must have messed up in your panic, and unfortunately you very obviously flinched away from his hand, playing it off with a nervous chuckle.

You silently led him up to your room, and he could most definitely tell that something was going on, but he didn’t say anything to acknowledge it, much to your relief. You let him into your room and closed the door behind you, taking in a deep breath. Luckily, as soon as you start to talk with each other like any other day, you begin to feel comfortable again and you finally feel relaxed.

After about an hour of studying, you take a break and you begin to wonder if this would be the time to say something. You began to go over the small speech you had rehearsed all morning, but before you could get anything out, you watch as Jungkook pulls off his hoodie, and as he does so, the short sleeve of his shirt on his right arm comes up, revealing a black image displayed on his skin which immediately piques your interest. “Wait, what was that?” you asked, tentatively pushing his sleeve up his shoulder to examine the image you had spotted hidden beneath it.

“Nothing,” he replied uninterestedly, brushing your hand away.

You locked gazes with him, wide eyes on display in an attempt to make him cave in.  “Well, it’s obviously a tattoo,” you reasoned aloud. “Any special reason?” Had you not had the suspicion that came into your mind, you would have let it be.

He quickly shook his head, breaking away from your curious eyes. “It’s just a tattoo. Nothing special about it.”

Your voice was soft now, and your eyes dropped to examine the lines in the wooden floors of your bedroom. “It’s a gang tattoo, isn’t it?” He only stared back, still with no intention of giving any answers. You figured that would be the reason why he was so apprehensive. Had it been any other tattoo, he probably wouldn’t have had any problem. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

He briefly exhaled through his nose, and his eyes fluttered shut before he gave a hasty nod. “I’ve told you before. I got mixed up with some bad people when I was younger, but don’t worry, it’s all in the past now.” You were glad he had gotten past it and hoped he was safe and out of that business now as he said he was.

Your gazes were locked on each other’s for far too long and you suddenly remembered what your original goal was, and you now realized you ruined the mood for that to happen. “I’m sorry,” you shook your head. “I shouldn’t have pried.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jungkook reassured softly. “I would have told you before, but I just didn’t want to scare you off.”

Your mouth curved into a small smile, arms hugging your torso. “You couldn’t scare me away. Don’t you know you’re stuck with me?” you joked. You suddenly realized now was the time. You had everything you wanted to say planned out, but now that it came down to it, you panicked and forgot all of it, so you had to say exactly what was on your mind. “Jungkook, you know you mean a lot to me, right? When I say that, I don’t mean as a friend either. I mean it as more than that, I guess.” You stuttered and slipped over your words and began to trail off in your last statement in nervousness, which became full panic as you observed the smile slip from his face.

“_____...” That was all he said before an agonizing amount of silence and out of all the scenarios you had thought up, this was probably the worst of them all. “You don’t mean that.”

“What? Of course I do,” you insisted, reaching out to him, but he only coiled back out of your reach. “Jungkook…”

“No. I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” He tried to walk away from you, but you grabbed onto his arm. You’d accept it and let him go if he had just rejected you, but you could tell something was wrong.

He shook your grip off and picked up his books and stuffed them into his bag in a hurry. “What is wrong with you?” you questioned desperately at his sudden shutdown. Then it all made sense. “That’s it. You’re shutting down again. You can’t stand it when you have to deal with any sort of real emotion.”

He scoffed, “Don’t try reasoning me out of this. I don’t want anyone to depend on me like that, not even you.”

“So, that’s it? You’re just never going to feel anything?” He stopped and looked up to you from his bag, locking eyes, and you hated how they had suddenly become cold and unfamiliar.

“No, _____, I’m not, and that’s why you should just give up on me. I can’t give you what you want. Go find someone else that’s not gonna hurt you.” You didn’t want to watch him walk away. You had no way of knowing what his true feelings were, but you knew that this wasn’t what he needed. He said he didn’t want anyone to depend on him, but in reality, he was afraid to depend on someone else. He didn’t want to put himself in a position to get left behind again, scarred by memories of his mother who had abandoned him.

All you could do was let him figure things out on his own. If he really did love you, then he would find his way back. All you can hope is that you didn’t just lose one of the best things that had ever happened to you. “Okay, if this is how it is, then I’ll let you go. I can’t keep doing this, Jungkook.”

He was already taking large strides out the door to get away as fast as his feet would carry him. “I know,” was all he said. Then he was gone.

It had been a week since Jungkook walked out on you, and you were beginning to lose hope of seeing him again. You would usually give it a bit more time before you began feeling doubtful, but you hadn’t seen nor heard any sign of him.

You laid pathetically alone on your bed on a Saturday night that you should have used to spend time with friends, but you ended up turning down any plans that were offered. You opened your phone and looked through old messages between you and Jungkook, and you began to type a message to ask him how he was doing, but just before you hit send, you ended up erasing it all and throwing your phone back down. As much of a bummer as it was, you decided to take tonight to go to bed and get some extra sleep.

You had already shut off all your lights and tucked yourself into your warm bed when a sudden, echoing knock came from your window, almost scaring you out of your wits. You quickly stumbled out of bed and turned on the lamp that sat on your nightstand, opening the curtains without hesitation because you already knew exactly who would be waiting behind them.

There you saw Jungkook hugging his jacket closer around him in the chilling night winds. This wasn’t the first time he had come to you through your bedroom window. He had done it several times before when he came over and saw your mother’s car parked in the driveway to avoid having to get through her to see you. You unhooked the latch, hurrying him in as he struggled to climb over the window sill. “_____,” he breathed out through chattering teeth. “I’m so sorry.” He pulled you into a crushing hug, burying his face into the hair on top of your head. “I always fuck things up just when they’re starting to go right.”

“It’s okay, Jungkook,” you spoke gently, rubbing his back up and down as he stood still and inhaled your scent for a few moments.

He chuckled breathily. “How can you always forgive me even when I’m such an ass?”

“Because I love you.”

You had pulled away enough so that you could look him in the eyes when you spoke, hopeful that this time it would go right. Jungkook pulled you back to him, mostly so that he could hide his face when he told you, “I love you, too.”

Your mother had dragged you out of the house way too early for a Saturday morning to go shopping with her at all of her favorite designer-brand stores, which was already a shock to you since she hadn’t found time to spend with you in almost four years since she was always so busy with work. Now, out of nowhere, she was having you try on at least a dozen gowns at each stop.

“Okay, mom,” you sighed walking out of the dressing room wearing the last of several dresses she had picked out. “This is the last one.”

She smiled, motioning for you to turn around. “That one looks beautiful, too! Which one did you like the best?”

You turned around, scrutinizing the way the material draped over you in the mirror. “I don’t know. They all look nice.” You turned back to her, finally deciding to question the motive behind her sudden eagerness, hoping it wouldn’t ruin her rarely bright mood. “Why exactly am I looking for a dress?”

She folded her hands in her lap, crossing her legs over each other, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “I wasn’t planning on telling you yet, but I’ll be hosting a gala, and I want you to come.” She looked for some kind of reaction from you, but you only continued to listen, smoothing the skirt of the dress you wore. She cleared her throat. “There will be a lot of young men there, soon to be owners of their parents’ companies. You should try to meet some of them.”

You finally looked back to her reflection in the mirror. “I’ve already met plenty of them,” you pointed out, brows creased in thought. “Is this your way of saying you want me to make connections?” you accused, stressing the word “connections” to imply it may have a different meaning. You heard rumors that big business owners would sometimes send their kids to high class social events hopefully form a relationship with another heir to merge the businesses and increase profit, but you didn’t think it was actually something that happened.

“I’m not saying I want you to do it, but you should be open minded to some of the boys you meet there.” She smiled to try to convince you, standing to speak with you at eye level.

“So, what, you want me to charm them with a pretty dress?” you asked. You scrunched your nose, looking down at the dress that you had once thought was pretty, but after staring for too long, you began to hate it.

“And your wonderful personality,” she joked with a playful pat on your cheek, but you couldn’t find it in you to laugh.

You’d met all these heirs to wealthy businesses before, and you knew that they weren’t interested in your personality. They weren’t looking for any sort of relationship, they were either looking for connections or a good time, and when it came to the unfortunate girls at these parties, they were usually stuck with the latter. And as spoiled rich kids, they didn’t like to be told no, which made you even more nervous than you already were.

You walked back into the dressing room, peeling off the itchy material of the dress you had to wear for far too long due to the unexpected news that had been broken to you. When you put back on the t-shirt dress and sneakers you had originally been wearing, you stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You began to think you liked yourself much better this way. You knew Jungkook liked you better this way. You bit back a smile at the thought of him, and it finally occurred to you that your mother didn’t even know that you and Jungkook were officially… whatever you were. You hadn’t really addressed it yet since that night. You did know, however, that you loved each other, but your mother wanted to send you into a room full of men you probably couldn’t trust. You began to wonder about what would happen if you brought Jungkook to the gala with you. Your mother would be furious, but you would feel so much safer. Though, you didn’t even know if Jungkook had any interest in going.

You heard a knock on the door, zoning you back into reality and making you realize you had been staring into the mirror in thought. “Are you ready?” you heard your mother’s voice calling from the other side.

“Coming,” you answered.

Jungkook had come over in the afternoon for what was supposed to be getting help from you for English, but when he actually arrived and you told him to get his books out, he didn’t even have his bookbag with them, so he claimed he “forgot” it. You knew he was lying, though. Jungkook had trouble with being direct. He always had to have some sort of excuse to see you rather than just wanting to spend time with you. You knew he actually cared behind all of this, though, but for now you would just have to learn how to interpret his roundabout methods.

Since he coincidentally didn’t bring his materials to study, he ended up laying down next to you in your place in bed, opting for just talking for a while. Jungkook had been looking around your room that he had practically memorized by now since he’d seen it so often, making it easy to spot any little change. He saw an extra framed picture on your nightstand of you and who he was positive was your father. He pointed it out, “That’s new.”

You looked over your shoulder to follow his line of sight and your eyes landed on the object of interest. “Yeah. I found that in a box a few days ago and decided to frame it and put it up.” You smiled at him, but it didn’t hold up for long as you engrossed yourself in thought.

“What?” Jungkook asked, looking down at you as a frown deepened on your face.

You shook your head. “Nothing.” You looked back at it one last time before turning back to him and grabbing his hand to fiddle with his fingers while admitting slowly, “I can’t even remember what his voice sounds like.”

“Don’t you have any videos where you can hear his voice?”

You nodded faintly. “I’m sure we have some somewhere, but I’d have to go looking for them myself. I don’t wanna bring my mom into it. She gets really upset when he’s brought up.”

“If it means getting to hear his voice, then you should just ask her. She can’t keep it from you, and you can’t let her pretend it never happened.” He was obviously letting his bias towards you affect his solution, but you remember clearly what happens to your mother whenever she hears about him, and although you two didn’t always get along, you would never purposefully do that to her.

Also, to be honest, you were shocked that Jungkook had even said what he had. You barely laughed, lacking humor, “Should I even take that advice from you?”

Jungkook’s lips turned down and his forehead creased. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You had a feeling this was leading into an argument you really weren’t looking to have, especially judging by his already irritable tone of voice. “I mean that you’re a prime example of ignoring the past,” you said as you tried to keep your voice even to remain peaceful without making him upset.

Jungkook sat up in the bed and you sighed, immediately regretting even bringing this up. “How have I ever done that? I fully acknowledge everything that’s happened to me.”

“It’s not that you choose to ignore the past itself, Jungkook, but you ignore the…” you paused to look for the right words as he waited impatiently, “the emotions you should be feeling from it.”

He scoffed, pushing himself off the bed, and he unintentionally rose his voice. “Who are you to tell me how I’m supposed to feel?”

“I’m not saying anything like that, Jungkook!” You began to shout as well, but you stopped yourself to control the volume of your voice, finishing calmly, “I’m just saying it’s okay to be sad.”

Jungkook held your gaze for a moment before shaking his head violently and dropping his eyes to the floor. “I’m not sad,” he spat.

You watched as he evened his breathing, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides. “Alright,” you gave in. “If you say you aren’t sad, then I’ll believe you.” You knew he was lying not only to you, but to himself, but you let it go, not wanting to argue with him anymore. You stood up, brushing his bangs away that hung down in his eyes, pulling him to sit back down next to you on the edge of the bed. You brought a hand to his cheek to lift his face to meet your eyes. “I want to ask you something, and I know it may be asking a lot from you, so feel free to turn me down.”

He waited patiently for what you had to say, and you thought for one moment, still nervous at the prospect of him actually agreeing. “My mom is hosting this gala,” you explained, “and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

He squinted his eyes at you, finding it hard to believe you would even ask him about something like that. “You want me to go to a gala with you? That your mom is hosting?” You nod silently in return, though you can easily see where he’s coming from. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“I know it’s not exactly your scene, but, if I’m honest, I’m a little worried about it. My mom wants me to make connections with some of the young heirs there. They’re not the most trustworthy people, though. I just think I would feel a lot better if you were there.” You looked up to him nervously in hopes that he would understand what you were trying to say. With the way his jaw tightened, you were certain he had gotten the point.

He swallowed, placing a comforting hand on your thigh and agreeing softly, “Okay. I’ll be there for you.”

Later that night, you both decided you would go out to eat at Roy’s again because Jungkook was right, that was the best fries and milkshake you had ever tasted. It still made you nervous to go into the more dangerous side of the city, but nothing happened last time, and with Jungkook there, you had nothing to worry about. However, your fears suddenly returned to you when you heard someone from behind you shout, “Jeon!”

Jungkook quickly grabbed onto your hand as you both turned around. They didn’t look threatening when you turned around. In fact, they were around your age and you began to think they may have been friends of Jungkook. The same one who had called out to him spoke again, “Your dad called an emergency meeting. Another gang’s been looking to take some of our territory.”

You froze. You must not have heard that right. You felt Jungkook stiffen beside you, too. “What did he just say?” you mumbled.

Jungkook stared ahead wordlessly, his lips pressed into a thin line. That’s when you knew you heard exactly what you thought you did. Your lip curled up in anger and you shouted, “You lied to me! You’re in a gang!” Your eyes filled to the brim with tears, but you tried not to let them fall. You repeated, “You lied to me, didn’t you?”

Jungkook swallowed, knowing there was no way he could get himself out of this. He let the silence boil in an angry pot for a long while before he found his voice again. “Yeah, I did,” he breathed, nodding slowly.

You turned your face away from him, hesitant to ask what was on the tip of the tongue because you were terrified of what his answer may be. “What’s the name?” you barely choked out, but when he only stuttered as an answer, you screamed at him, “Was it your gang that killed my dad?”

“We’re not like that, _____. He was kicked out as soon as we found out.”

He confirmed exactly what you were afraid of. You knew the emblem you had seen on his shoulder seemed familiar for a reason. You felt sick. You felt betrayed. The tears you had been holding back were now free falling down your face. “You knew? You knew the whole time and you didn’t tell me?” You roughly pushed at his chest, but he barely moved an inch.

He reached out for you before retracting his hand right away. “I didn’t want this to happen.” You didn’t want to hear his excuses. You didn’t even want to see his face right now. You just needed to get away. When you turned on your heel, he called out your name, but you didn’t listen. When he tried to go after you, the men who came to get him held him back and hurried him away. He tried to fight to push past them, but he knew that if he chased after you, you would only hate him even more.

By the time you arrived home, you could barely even stand. You hadn’t even realized how much you were shaking, how violently your sobs had been wracking through you. When you reached the safety of solitude within your bedroom, you leaned on the post of your bed and sunk to the floor, burying your head in your hands. You weren’t sure how long you had stayed like that.

You heard a soft tap at your window and, knowing exactly who it came from, you pretended as if you didn’t hear it. Then Jungkook’s voice came quietly through the closed window, “Please let me in, _____.”

“Go away!” you shouted, not even moving to see his face. He didn’t leave though. Instead he kept tapping, which became impatient knocking, becoming louder and louder. You stood up and walked to the window and the sound finally ceased as he let out a sigh, but instead of unlocking the window like he had expected, you pulled the curtains closed and walked back to sit on your bed, staring emptily at the wall.

You could hear him growl in frustration. “Don’t make me break this goddamn window, _____!” you heard him scream from the other side of the curtains. You only shook your head and tried to ignore him until he left, but you jumped when you heard the crescendo of pounding on the glass, becoming more forceful by the second.

You hurriedly rushed to your feet again to open the curtains, only to be met with Jungkook repeatedly driving his fist into the glass. “You’re insane!” you cried out. You quickly unhooked the latch that kept him locked outside in fear that he would really form a crack in the glass. He immediately pushed through and took your face into his hands, pulling you close. “Get away from me!” You frantically fought, pulling his hands away from you and trying to put distance between you.

He placed his forehead against yours, whispering, “_____, please listen to me. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” You suddenly ran out of energy to continue fighting him, but you still kept a grip on his wrists as his hands still rested on each side of your face. Your sobs didn’t cease, however, and he slowly slid his hands down to wrap around your waist and bring you into his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head as you reluctantly melted into him in exhaustion. “Please forgive me.”

“Jungkook,” you breathed weakly.

He stopped you quickly, reminding you of a conversation the two of you had in the past. “You’ve said it yourself before. You know that I’m nothing like that man.”

“Of course I know that.” You shook your head before you pulled away from him, but he wouldn’t let you go far enough to where he had to let you go. “I’m angry because you kept this from me. You knew it was something I needed to know, but you kept it to yourself anyway.”

He sighed and he was about to plead for you to forgive him once more, but the vibration of his phone is his pocket brought his words to a halt. You saw that he immediately became worried when he read the caller ID and answered the call without hesitation. You couldn’t make out the words on the other end, but the way his face contorted in worry let you know that it was bad news. He ended the call with a quick affirmative and when he hung up, he looked frantic. “Shit,” he hissed. “There’s an emergency back at home. I’ll come back later tonight, though. We aren’t finished here,” he promised, already making his way back outside.

You woke up the next morning surprised that you had ever been able to fall asleep. You hadn’t even bothered trying to fall asleep the night before since you knew that if Jungkook said he was coming back, then he was coming back. But he never did return, which worried you. You didn’t want to care, but no matter how hard you tried to hate him, the fact that he never actually came back made you think something bad happened, and that scared you. You tried texting him early in the morning, several hours after he had left, but now even after you had slept and woke up again, you still received no response, which was extreme even for him.

Knowing all that you knew about him now, you could only assume the worst, especially since you had heard about the apparent emergency that he had gone to take care of. You rushed to get yourself ready to go out and look for him only to be stopped when you realized you had no idea where you should be looking. Of course your first instinct was his home, but you didn’t actually know where that was. You found it hard to believe you hadn’t realized until now how much you still didn’t know about Jungkook. So, you went to the only place you knew of where you could find any sort of hint of where to find him.

You pushed through the heavy door that led into Roy’s diner, immediately met with several heads whipping your way to get a look at the visitor. Since it was the morning, there were far fewer people than there had been the first time you came, but you saw several familiar faces, including Roy himself. You walked in nervously, feeling a little out of place now that Jungkook wasn’t by your side, which everyone was quick to notice. “Do you know where Jungkook is?” asked one of the older men that he had been talking to during your previous visit.

“That’s the problem,” you sighed. “He left last night saying it was an emergency and I haven’t seen him since. He isn’t answering his phone either.” You shook your head, looking down at your phone one more time, hoping to be proven wrong. The news even made Roy stop what he was doing behind the counter to listen, worrying just like the rest of them. They all shared concerned, knowing glances.

Roy approached you slowly, setting his towel down, explaining, “We heard news early this morning that there was a dispute between gangs.” You waited impatiently for him to continue. You figured that much already. “Jungkook’s father was killed.”

The breath left your lungs and you now understood why he didn’t return. You knew him well enough to know that he must be out there somewhere trying to deal with what he’s feeling, and from what you knew about him, he probably wasn’t coping well. Now you had to make sure he was okay. “Tell me where I might be able to find him.”

They tried to convince you to let someone else look for him and find him knowing he might not be in a good state, but you insisted that you would find him yourself. They gave in finally and mentioned several places he visited frequently, one of them being his home address, which you were thankful they trusted you enough to give to you, and you decided you would start there. You entered the address into your phone for directions since you had no idea how to navigate in this area of the city. Finally, you came to the house that the map had led you to, and it was a house just like any other that you had been passing for the past few minutes. You weren’t sure why you were expecting anything different.

When you carefully knocked on the front door, it creaked open ever so slightly from the little bit of force you gave. You pushed it open just a slight bit more, calling Jungkook’s name, hoping to find him inside. You received no answer though, which prompted you to take a tentative step inside as you pray that you got the right house and you weren’t accidentally walking into a stranger’s home.

Only a few steps in and you heard the crunch of glass underneath your shoe, and you looked down to find a picture that had fallen of the wall and smashed onto the floor. When you took a closer look, you saw a boy with familiar round eyes and you knew you were in the right house. As soon as you rounded the corner, however, you see that the living room and the kitchen had been trashed and torn to shreds, displaying a mess of broken glass and papers and trash scattered across the floors. Suddenly you suspected that the picture by the front door hadn’t fallen by accident.

After you had called out for Jungkook several more times, you concluded he wasn’t in the house. You began to look through your small list of other possible locations while leaving the house and carefully pulling the door shut behind you. You stopped in your tracks just as you reached the bottom stair when you heard a familiar voice, and after you searched, you found just who you had been looking for. Only, you weren’t expecting him to be threateningly pinning someone up against a wall.

You approached quietly, listening for what you hoped would be an explanation. You saw Jungkook had pinned a man by the collar of his shirt to the outside wall of a building in an alleyway just on the other side of the road from his house. “Are you one of them?” he screamed, interrogating the terrified man.

“One of who?” the poor man questioned, fighting Jungkook’s grip, though you were surprised he couldn’t escape given Jungkook only used a single hand.

Jungkook bared his teeth in rage. “The bastards that killed my father!” You approached slowly, calculating the best way to deal with Jungkook while he was in such a fragile state. Though your knowledge about this was limited, you knew for sure that this man had no gang affiliations just by looking at him and how he seemed as if he hadn’t fought once in his entire life. Throwing a beer bottle down, smashing it to pieces that violently scattered causing both you and the man to flinch away, Jungkook cried out, “I promise I’ll obliterate every single one of them!”

You took the chance to lurch forward and firmly take hold of his arm, hoping to bring him down from his rampage. Jungkook’s head snapped to you and the man used this distraction to escape his grip and make a run for it. Jungkook noticed and wanted to push past you and chase after him, but you blocked his path, though he kept fighting to pass you, blinded by rage and, from what you could smell in his breath, intoxication. “Please, Jungkook, calm down! I know your pain, trust me, but this isn’t the right way to handle it! Let me help you!” you tried reasoning with him.

He pushed your hands off of him, backing away. “Who said I wanted your help? Who said I wanted you to force yourself into my life and try to fix everything?” he spat. You shook your head in disbelief. “I’m perfectly fine! What makes you think I need to be saved?”

“Jungkook, I know you don’t mean that.”

“I do!” he shouted. His shoulders heaved and then the tension in his face began to melt. “I…” He spoke more unsurely now. Then he had dropped himself onto his knees, hands pounding into the ground. Worried he was hurt, you slid down beside him only for his arms to wrap tightly around your waist. His face buried into the crook of your neck and he began to sob. You were worried and you hurt for him, yet somehow you were also relieved knowing that he was finally able to let go of the idea that he had to always be strong. You soothingly ran your fingers through his hair as you let him stay there for however long he needed. “He’s gone,” he choked out weakly.

Jungkook never told you much about his father. In fact, he said that he didn’t see him much and that they weren’t close. You couldn’t tell if that had been another lie to keep you from knowing the truth or if that had been true and he felt this way purely from the fact that he had lost both of his parents now. Either way, you could tell he was broken. “It’s okay,” you whispered.

“Promise me that you’ll stay with me, _____.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you assured him. There you both sat, in the middle of an alley, where Jungkook finally shed what very well could have been his first tear, and you knew that he needed you.

After seeing the state his house was in, you figured it wasn’t the best idea to let him return there alone for fear he might go off the rails again, so you let him come with you. You weren’t sure whether your mother would be home or if she would ever even notice if you kept him up in your room, but you were willing to face whatever she had to say if she were to find out, knowing this was about your only option. You had to support him on the way as he drunkenly stumbled through the streets at midday.

When you finally arrived home with him and led him up to your room, he collapsed in exhaustion on your bed. You looked over him in concern for a moment before sighing as you combed your fingers through his hair. You figured you would get him some water for when he woke up since he had consumed so much alcohol, but when you tried to leave his hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you back to him. “Don’t leave,” he mumbled. You glanced back at the door, but you ultimately decided to follow his request and stay with him.

You sat down beside where he laid, pulling your wrist out of his grip and sliding your hand into his to hold it comfortingly. You saw a hint of red on his face and squinted to get a better look, but you had to gently nudge his face to get him to turn to you from where he had it buried in the sheets to block out the light. You saw his lip was letting out a fair amount of blood and you began to get up to clean it up, ignoring his groan of protest as you left his side.

You came back with a cold, wet rag to press to his lip to stop the bleeding. You sighed, giving his body a once-over, seeing clearly he was in bad shape, both physically and emotionally. You set the rag aside again after a moment and went back to softly stroking his head. You whispered to him, though you were sure he was too far gone in sleep to listen to you by now, “Please don’t do this to yourself again. Please don’t do something reckless and get hurt.”

To your surprise his eyes barely fluttered open at your words before they closed once again, but he exhaled heavily, assuring you, “I won’t. I promise.”

When you woke up the next morning, the bed had been significantly colder than it had when you went to sleep. As you blinked the sleep out of your eyes, you realized it was because Jungkook was no longer there, sleeping beside you with you wrapped in his arms like he had been when you fell asleep. He must have left sometime in the middle of the night. You couldn’t help but feel a little worried. You weren’t sure of he had completely sobered up yet, so you worried if he had gotten home safely or not. You called him, but he didn’t pick up. Then you texted him to ask where he was, thinking he probably wouldn’t answer that either, but to your surprise, he did. Although, all he said was ‘Don’t worry. I’m fine. I’m gonna be busy today.’ You knew something was going on, already, but you were immediately afraid for him when he followed with, ‘I love you.’

That was unlike him. He was possibly the least straightforward person you knew, so he only said that when he felt like he absolutely had to. And you were afraid of why he thought he had to tell you so suddenly.

Before you could barrage him with questions, you heard the bell ring at your front door, so you went to answer, hoping for some reason that it would be him. When you opened the door, it wasn’t Jungkook, but instead it was the man who had called Jungkook for the meeting and ultimately revealed the truth about him. He cleared his throat. “May I come in for a moment?” You hesitantly stepped back, opening the way fully for him to enter. “I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m Namjoon. I’m a member of Jungkook’s gang.” He said quickly, lowering his voice at the last phrase. He seemed to be rushing through the formalities to get to the real reason he had come. “Have you seen Jungkook?”

The question took you by surprise. You had been hoping to ask him the same question, but since he didn’t know either, your nerves were anything but calmed. “No. When I asked him where he was, he texted me saying he was busy and not to worry about it.” You thought for a moment, licking your dried lips. “He sounded off, though.”

Namjoon nodded attentively. “I see. There’s a good chance my suspicions are correct, then,” he speculated, pacing noticeably.

“What suspicions?” You were almost afraid to ask. It was easy to see that Namjoon was tense, so you knew that it couldn’t be good news.

“I think he’s going to try to get revenge for his father.” Your jaw went slack in shock. “I think he wants to kill that gang’s leader.”

“What? What if he gets hurt?”

Namjoon exhaled slowly, rubbing his chin as he spoke, “If that’s the case, he’ll be going up against several members before getting to the leader, so the likelihood is high.”

Your heart dropped in your chest. What was he thinking going up against so many people all on his own? You began to panic. “Well, what are you doing here? Someone needs to go help him or stop him or something!”

Namjoon said with the tap on the screen on his phone, “I’m already on it. I’m sending backup for him right now. I’ll be going too.” He was already taking large strides to the door when he quickly turned back around to you. “Keep the doors locked and don’t answer the door unless either me or Jungkook have told you to,” he warned before shutting the door behind him.

Somehow his warning made you even more nervous. You were sure you had nothing to worry about for yourself since you were far away from where all the action would take place, but it clearly meant that he thought these people were dangerous. And Jungkook was going to face them all alone. You just hoped that his backup got there fast enough.

You had been trying to shake the thoughts out of your head for far too long until you began to feel cramped within the walls of your own home. Though you were aware of Namjoon’s advice, you decided to walk for a bit to clear your head and to get some fresh air. Surely no one wanting to hurt you would be brave enough to cross the river to the highly-secured side of the city. You had been wandering for a while, not paying much attention to where exactly you were going and instead following wherever your feet carried you as you watched the petals fall from the cherry blossoms in order to distract yourself.

Eventually you found yourself stopping just before the bridge. Just a few more steps and you could be crossing over to get Jungkook out of his mess once again, but he said it himself. It wasn’t up to you to save him. He’s going to be okay, you assured yourself. With eyes still glued to the opposite end of the bridge, you turned around to walk back home.

As you began the walk back home, you thought you saw a shadow of someone behind you, but when you turned no one had been there. You were sure it was only your imagination, but now you were starting to wish you had stayed at home as your nerves began to act up. You took up a quicker pace, finally deciding you were safe after you were walking with no interruption for a few minutes. Just as you were calming down, you jumped as the ringer of your phone blared in the thick silence of the streets. You breathed in relief as you brought it out of your pocket and read your mother’s name displayed on the screen.

“Hello?” you answered. She was asking where you were since you had told her you would be home for dinner with her. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m coming home right n—” Your words were smothered by the gloved hand that latched itself over your mouth. You tried to tug yourself free and cry out for help, but your arms were only swatted away and your phone tumbled to the ground still on call with your mother. You frantically swung your feet in attempts to escape, but they were swept out from under you and you fell to the ground, your head hitting the pavement and darkening your vision until you lost consciousness.

Your head was pounding when you finally gained some awareness again. You could tell there were voices around you, but they were difficult to discern since your groggy state made everything sound muffled as if you were underwater, with the way it was muddled in your brain. It took a while to finally come to, but when you did, you could finally make out one of the voices as the very one you had been waiting for. When your eyes came into focus, you could make out Jungkook standing across a large room from you, pointing his gun at something to your right. You tried to turn your head to look despite the shooting pain in your neck from how you head hung down unnaturally. Your eyes met an unfamiliar man, also holding his own gun, but instead of pointing it back at Jungkook, it was directed at you. You tried to moved, but your limbs were bound to the chair you sat in.

You gulped, realizing the situation, most of your mind’s fogginess disappearing. “Look who’s finally decided to join us,” he observed, smiling sinisterly in your direction.

Jungkook briefly met your panicked eyes, but he diverted back to the man keeping a stone cold expression. “How did you find her?”

“You’re very reckless. How do you expect to take your father’s place?” At that remark, Jungkook’s grip tightened on his pistol and bared his teeth in anger. His finger twitched on the trigger and he was going to give in, but when the gun in the man’s hand was pushed closer to your temple, he brought the gun back down slightly in order to stop him from hurting you. The older man only chuckled. “You had such great potential to become a cold-blooded killer, an unstoppable machine, but instead you hold yourself back with these distractions.” The man tilted his head in indication of you as said “distraction.”

“The only person I’m looking to kill is you.”

“Are you sure you want to say that to me right now?” he asked, teeth bared and all easiness void from his tone. The mouth of the gun was now pushed harshly into your temple and you squeezed your eyes shut with a sharp intake of breath. Only a moment later, though, you no longer felt its the cold metal on your skin and you saw he had lowered it out of the corner of your eye. His face took on another chilling smirk. “You know, I could go ahead and kill her now… but then again, she would make an awfully pretty prize.”

Jungkook was fuming and, raising the gun once more and taking a risky step forward, he growled, “Don’t fucking touch her!” The man only stared back at him daringly, analyzing his every movement, the way his feet faltered in their placement on the ground, his hand just barely shook as he held out his gun. There was no way he would risk anything as long as you were in danger.

Suddenly there was a faint shuffle somewhere within the walls of the large warehouse you were held in and everything went silent as everyone went on alert, listening carefully. Suddenly, you flinched and your heart beat erratically as a gunshot ran through your ears, and it took a moment of panic to realize it hadn’t been directed at you. You turned to the side, seeing the man had dropped his gun and grabbed onto his arm in pain. His groan of pain was cut short by yet another bullet lodging into his thigh, causing his leg to give out on him and he fell to the ground.

Then a crowd of men came from the direction of the bullets, led by Namjoon who had been placing a handgun back into his waistband. Jungkook ran over to you to free you from the ropes that held you down, pulling out a switchblade from his pocket and cutting you free. When all of the ropes around you fell loosely to the floor you wrapped your arms around him, feeling his heart beating rapidly. He pulled away and his eyes travelled to your forehead. He carefully reached out to touch it and when his fingers barely brushed your skin, a pain shot through your skull. You brought your own hand up and felt what must have been dried blood. You hadn't even realized that had been there, but you deduced it must have been from when you fell to the ground during your kidnapping.

Jungkook lifted you out of the chair hastily with Namjoon by his side when commotion broke out in the back of the building. More men poured in from where Namjoon and the others had come, but they had their guns pointed at Jungkook’s men. Your feet slowed in their movements as you realized they were going to fight the men who had come to save you. Jungkook tugged you ahead and consoled you, telling you they would be fine, gesturing to the reinforcements coming in once Namjoon opened the front doors. As they passed by Jungkook, you figured they must be on his side. Taking once more glance back, you saw the other men retreating and dropping their guns as the soon realized they were far outnumbered and you briefly glanced at the leader who was still shuffling on the ground with his wounded leg. Jungkook had seen this, too, as he picked up his speed with you right beside him. You heard a gunshot go off and Jungkook roughly pushed you out the door. When you looked back inside as the three of you had finally reached safety outside, you saw no one else who had been injured, so you assumed everyone was safe.

You breathed heavily as the adrenaline began to wear off and your head began pounding because of your injury. You breathed a sigh of relief when you finally caught your breath, believing  the three of you had successfully reached safety, but you were quickly brought back to panic as Jungkook roughly leaned into the wall and let himself slide down to the ground, clutching his side. He hissed, lifting his hand and finding it stained crimson. You gasped and slid down next to him, Namjoon crouching beside you and examining the wound. You had been wrong when you thought that the gunshot had missed its target. No, it had hit exactly who it was aimed at, and that was Jungkook. A few men who had been in one of the many black vans parked outside the building came running over, carefully lifting Jungkook up from the ground and placing him in the back of the the van they had come from with a man with medical supplies waiting inside.

You followed behind them and stepped into the van when they set Jungkook down, not bothering to stop and wonder if they would even let you, but they did. The man grabbed scissors out of the case and cut open Jungkook’s shirt, blood seeping through the white material at an alarming rate. HIs shirt was pulled back to reveal the ragged gash in his side, and you had to look away. You found his hand in yours, however, and he squeezed it tight which felt like reassurance to you, but it was most likely because of the pain.

After a while of you silently staring out the window and Jungkook every so often hissing in pain, the bullet was removed and his torso was wrapped in a bandage. You finally looked back at him, relieved to see the job looked to be well done. Jungkook tried to readjust himself into a sitting position but immediately regretted it, groaning lowly and letting himself back down to lay where he had been before. You brushed your fingertips over the back of his hand and sighed as you watched his brows twitch.

Your head whipped towards the doors as Namjoon swung them open and climbed inside the back, sitting on the opposite side of Jungkook’s legs. He looked down at him with a frown pulling at the corners of his lips. His eyes hardened as they were suddenly directed at you, and the unpleasant frown took full form when he met your eyes. “I told you to stay inside!” Namjoon scolded. “That was all you had to do, but then you just had to get yourself caught.”

Jungkook, who still looked fairly worn out, did not miss Namjoon’s comment. “What?” he questioned, looking at you, and under his stare you couldn’t keep guilt from bubbling up to the surface. “You knew what going on and you still put yourself in danger?” Your lips pressed together in a tight line. His voice that was still weak, but you could tell he was trying to raise it.

You huffed, retorting, “What was I supposed to do? You had me so worried! Jungkook, you told me just last night that you wouldn’t do something reckless and get yourself killed! Then I found out you were going on some crazy revenge mission. You lied to me! Again! How long are you going to keep this up, Jungkook?”

“I’ll keep it up however long it takes! Be honest, _____. If I had told you what you wanted to know, would that have changed anything? No! You still would have done something stupid!” His fists had tightened and the veins in his arms protruded.

“Why are you getting mad at me?”

“Because you almost got yourself killed, that’s why!” His hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, not enough to be painful, but it held you securely. His hands shook and you just now realized how fearful his face appeared. His voice lost its momentum and lowered to just above a whisper, “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you today. I can’t let anything happen to you.” You could only swallow at his words, rubbing a thumb over the back of his hand that was still clasped onto your own. He sighed, defeated and resigning, “I know I shouldn’t have lied. I’m sorry.”

“But that’s the thing. You keep doing it. You keep lying because you think you have to, but you don’t! Please don’t lie to me anymore. There’s nothing you have to hide from me anymore.” He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away.

That was the last of what you said to him. He couldn’t promise you that the lies would stop. You weren’t sure if that meant he still didn’t trust you or that you couldn’t trust him. You were in too deep for that, though. It’s not easy to give your heart away to someone without trusting them with your life. You tried to relieve your thoughts plaguing your mind through a deep heave of a sigh as you quietly closed the front door behind you. Your mother came running to the door at the sound. You thought she’d be at work.

She pulled you into a crushing hug before pulling away and inspecting the bandage that had been put on your head and interrogating, “Why did you disappear all of a sudden? And what happened to your head?”

You pulled her hands away. “Mom, I’m fine. I’m okay.”

“No, _____, you have to tell me what happened. I heard that over the phone! You can’t tell me nothing happened!” she rambled frantically, cutting you off once again before you could even anwer her. “I was so worried, you know that! I even sent the police out to look for you! Can you imagine how scared I was when they brought back your cell phone they found lying in the street, but they said there was no sign of you anywhere around it?” She slammed your phone down on the kitchen table without breaking eye contact with you. You could see her eyes become shiny.

You looked away and hesitated to give her an answer. “There were some problems… But I swear I’m alright. Jungkook—”

“I knew it!” she burst out. “I knew this had something to do with him! I’ve always known being around him would put you in danger!” You tried to speak up in his defense but she stopped you with a motion of her hand. “Do you know how hard I’ve worked since your father’s been gone to keep us at the top? I only want to give you the life you want, but you’re ready to throw your life away for some low life boy off the streets!”

You screamed back in retaliation, “Don’t say that about him!” She gave you that look that she always does when you raise your voice at her, but this time instead of cowering away, you used her stunned silence to say what you’d wanted to say for far too long. “Do you really think I care about the money? I couldn’t care less if I didn’t have this big house or these expensive clothes! I just want my mom back.” She was still silent to your surprise and the tension between her angry eyebrow faltered only slightly.

Her voice was much more level now as she turned away and pinched the bridge of her nose, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from him.” She made her way out of the kitchen, only stopping once more in the doorway, looking over her shoulder. “Please. I can’t lose you, too.”

Your shoulders slumped with your labored sigh as you watched her retreating back. You didn’t miss her trembling lip. You supposed you never thought too hard on the emotional toll that encumbered your mother throughout this situation. In no way was she innocent, but you, too,  were far from being in the right. Maybe you had been the selfish one all along, you thought, making your way up the stairs to your bedroom with guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders. You found the dress you had finally decided on for the gala laid out on your bed. You rubbed the soft fabric between the pads of your fingers in thought. What were you thinking, asking Jungkook to come to the gala with you? Neither him nor your mother wanted that. It was only what you wanted.

You picked up your phone and quickly called his number without another thought. After several rings too many, the line on the other end connected. “_____?” he answered, his voice sounded gruff and exhausted.

“You weren’t asleep were you?” you worried. He made a small grunt which you were sure was supposed to mean no, but you knew it wasn’t true. He needed to rest to heal, after all. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’m doing alright... Better.”

“That’s good,” you said, trying to make your way into the subject you had called about. “Listen, you probably forgot about it by now...”

“The gala’s on Saturday. I know. I promise I’ll be there, don’t worry.”

“Actually, I was going to say that you probably shouldn’t go.” You gnawed at your bottom lip, waiting, as it was suddenly silent on his end.

“Why?” he finally asked, sounding more aware and perturbed than you would have expected.

“Well, you need to heal. It would just be better if you didn’t go.”

“I’ve healed in less than a week before. I’ll be fine.” You didn’t say anything. He was suddenly so determined to go with you after you practically had to beg him when you first told him about it. “Why don’t you want me to go?” You could hear the frown on his face. You couldn’t understand why he was getting so upset.

You gave a weak chuckle in hopes to lighten the mood. “Why do you want to go so badly all of a sudden?”

He ignored your question. “Did your mom say something?” You clicked your tongue in response, but he knew you well enough to know that meant that you didn’t want to answer the question. He chuckled dryly. “Are you serious? I thought you weren’t gonna let your mom stop you from doing what you want from now on.”

“I know, but this is… different,” you found yourself whispering into the phone. It suddenly felt like you were talking behind your mother’s back.

“Oh, then what is it? Is it because you’re too embarrassed to be seen with me by all the rich heirs?” He now carried an accusatory tone. He always had a bad habit of jumping to conclusions.

“Of course not! You’re being ridiculous!”

“Then why don’t you want me to go?”

“I’ve just... been insensitive to my mom. I just don’t think it’s the best idea.”

“Insensitive to her? Have you forgotten how wonderfully she treated me?”

You’d had it then, groaning as you hung up the call. You threw your phone down on the bed and went to get changed in the bathroom. You heard your phone vibrate from its place on the bed and you could just barely make out Jungkook’s name across the top of the screen, but you didn’t make a move to answer it. It took three more missed calls until he finally gave up.

It was a petty, stupid fight, and yet it was Saturday and you hadn’t heard from him since your last phone call. You tried to tell yourself you were just giving him time to rest and recover, but in reality, you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to him. You wondered if he regretted it as much as you did.

The nerves fluttering in your stomach as you thought about the gala you were getting ready for made you begin to regret telling Jungkook not to go with you. You lightly brushed your fingers through your styled hair and took one last look in the mirror, scrutinizing the way the dress hung on your body. It wasn’t nearly as pretty as it had seemed before. It looked duller and you wished the skirt wasn’t so plain and lifeless. You weren’t sure what you had seen in it in the first place. You heard your mother call for you from the first floor, and on your way down you checked your phone one last time, but you still saw no notifications with Jungkook’s name on them.

You followed your mother into the limousine that drove you to the venue the gala would take place in, watching as you drove by the entrance to the bridge, wondering what Jungkook was doing on the other side. The rushing waters of the river seemed wider than ever.

You arrived at the gala much faster than you had hoped and found that many guests had already arrived. You walked in beside your mother, receiving several greetings and warm smiles, some looking more genuine than others. You made your rounds for a while, chatting with some of the other heiresses your age that you had known for years because of events just like these.

Eventually the crowd started to loosen up and the gala became more of a social gathering than a business meeting as most of the guests had already gone through a few glasses of wine. You chose to opt out of having any alcohol, though part of you wanted nothing more than to get drunk so the night would go by faster. After you finally got a break from conversation, you excused yourself and went down the hallway to the bathroom where it was much quieter and less crowded. You tried to pass by a man that you barely paid any mind to, but he reached out for your arm to grab your attention. “_____?” You turned and found that the face of the man that said your name was one that you were sure you had seen before, yet you couldn’t put a name to the face. “I’ve been looking around for you all night!”

You returned his charming grin with a polite nod of your head. “Oh yeah! I was wondering if I would see you tonight.” You were lying through your teeth and you were hoping it wasn’t painfully obvious.

“You’ve grown up quite a bit since I saw you last,” he said, looking you up and down. You chuckled nervously as his eyes lingered just a hair too long, especially now that you could smell the strong scent of alcohol on his breath after he had taken a step closer to you. “You know, we’re both set up to take over pretty powerful companies. I think we should try to get to know each other more—”

You frowned stepping back to regain your preferred personal space. “I’m sorry. That’s not something I’m looking for.”

You began to walk away, but his loud, gruff voice followed you, “You really shouldn’t cut someone off when they’re speaking! I think you should show me a little bit more respect!” He glared at you, clearly waiting for something, though you weren’t sure if what he wanted was an apology or just for you to say yes to him.

“And I think you’ve had too much to drink and that you’re a self-entitled prick,” you retorted. “I think you should get back to the party and leave me alone.”

He growled as you brushed past him, and he started to pursue you, but he was stopped short by a voice coming from behind both of you. “Hey. You heard her, man. Get out of here,” the voice ordered. You turned around to find Jungkook dressed in a suit and tie and with a flower in hand. The man only observed him incredulously until Jungkook sneered at him, making him finally give up and leaving only the two of you in the hallway. Jungkook’s glare finally softened once his eyes that had been watching intently as the man left found their way to your own. You hurried over to him, wrapping him in a hug and releasing a breath you weren’t aware you had been holding. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he apologized. “This is exactly why I wanted to come and I still let this happen. I didn’t want you to have to deal with guys like that.”

You stopped him, shaking your head to assure him you were fine. “No, no. I don’t even care about that. I’m just glad to see you again.” Your eyes trailed down to observe the black suit he wore, admiring how good he looked, but also chuckling at how out of character he looked. You weren’t complaining, though. Your gaze travelled to the flower he held in his hand and a grin spread across your face. “What’s this?”

You could see his cheeks slightly tint while he tried to explain himself. “It’s just an… apology, I guess,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, holding the flower out for your to take. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad about something so stupid. I promised I’d be here and I wasn’t.”

“I’m sorry, too.” You twirled the stem between your fingers. You grabbed his hand again and pulled him along with you. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I’ve had enough of this party.” You rounded the corner only to be met with your mother, skidding to a stop to prevent from colliding into her. “Mom.”

She sighed, and you were afraid you were going to have to face another lecture, but she surprised you by pulling you into her arms. “I heard someone raise their voice, and then I heard you… I got so worried.” She let you go and turned her eyes to Jungkook, looking upon him for the first time without contempt. “I’ve been thinking a lot recently after hearing how _____ talks about you. So I want to say thank you, Jungkook, for being there for her. I know there’s nothing i can say or do to make up for what I’ve said about you in the past, but I can tell that you love my daughter, and that’s all I want for her. I’m sorry for how horrible I’ve been to you.”

You looked between him and your mother. Jungkook’s words faltered for a moment, but eventually he just said simply, “Of course. I’ll always be here for her.”

Your mother gave a soft smile. She shook her head. “Don’t let me stop you. Go ahead and go. You’ve been here long enough,” she insisted, directing the last part to you. You smiled brightly and thanked her and the two of you headed out.

You two ended up sitting back in your usual seats at the counter at Roy’s. It didn’t exactly get you away from a rowdy, loud scene, but it was comfortable. You two were still in your clothes for the gala, so the old diners were teasing the both of you, saying you looked like you could get married right then and there. You were embarrassed, but you were also proud of how far the two of you had come. You were still by no means perfect. You two were a mess. A beautiful mess. The kind of mess that isn’t burdensome, that you don’t want to clean up because in it are beautiful memories of a time when all is perfect, like old family picnics with cream covered pies and messy little children who impatiently dig right in. “We’re kind of like a pie,” you looked up at Jungkook from where your head laid on his shoulder.

“What are you saying?” he broke out into laughter. The way his eyes crinkled in the corners and his nose scrunched up, it was beautiful.

“I don’t know. I’m just thinking.” You looked around. The neon lights that shone on the jukebox. The perfectly shaped swirl of whipped cream atop your shared milkshake topped off with a bright red cherry. The old couple sitting in a booth on the other side of the diner. It was all so beautiful. You’d never seen so clearly in your life up until this moment.

[yoosea-mysme]

Did not expect anyone to ask about my OCs x’D I assume because of my matchups from @marshmallowprotection​

First thing, which I myself often forget: these ocs are actually technically inserted characters in a pre-existing universe, a French roleplay youtube series. I originally just started imagining different scenarios for the existing characters and then basically did the “let’s give them kids and see what happens” thing. Kinda lame concept, but I love the characters I created for it, and I’ve had them for… a couple years now? Second thing, that universe is magical fantasy, I just didn’t mention it in the matchups because it wasn’t relevant (nor how they end up in Mysme’s world, shush). Now that I’ve thoroughly disappointed you, here are the characters themselves, the cousins/siblings gang (because I’m unsure about giving names, we’re gonna call them Big Sister, Younger Brother, Adopted Cousin and Lyn):

______________________________________________________________

We’ve got Adopted Cousin (here), the oldest one, he’s actually the only one not blood related to the others. Black with green eyes, VERY tall and thin, originally he was meant to have long blond hair, but I have a tendency to picture him with a black long ponytail so it’s still unclear. He’s an orphan who became the apprentice and then adopted son of a character who is HIMSELF not blood related to the parents of the others, but because their parents treat him as family, he’s their uncle and his son is ergo their cousin. It’s the law. If anyone questions it Big Sister will punch them in the face. Hard. He’s also the only one of the group who has zero connection to magic nor any interest in it whatsoever. For a long time, he avoided the topic of his family because he didn’t want to relieve the trauma of losing them, and tried to focus only on his new family; he’s gotten better at talking about it since (though I won’t go into details on how they died). Easily the most chill and calm of the whole group; all he wants is to get to do his experiments, invent some cool stuff, read, draw and sew because it’s soothing. 98% of the time he gets roped in an adventure is against his will by his cousins (other 2% is when he wants to get his hands on something forbidden to study it; the only times he gets in trouble he does not mess around. Go big or go home, what’s the use of going apeshit if you don’t even get arrested). He just wants to stay home and hyperfocus. Please let him take a nap (they don’t).

The advantage of constantly being thrown around by creatures of hubris is that it puts into practice your quick-thinking skills: very promptly got used to taking charge of every kind of situation no matter how crazy and keeping everything and everyone under control, and will get frustrated when people don’t listen to him (he’ll make them listen). Even though they should technically get along great for being the two most reasonable, he often butts head with Big Sister because of his leading nature (“No I don’t think you’re dumb, please I just want us to survive this let me handle it”) His adoptive father is himself in a huge position of authority so he’s learned a lot from him. He’ll drag everyone safe back home by force if he has to (even if he has noodle arms).

  ______________________________________________________________

We’ve got the Big Sister (here). Physically perfect mix of her grandmothers, but with her father’s older sister body type (aka: huge): long dark blonde wavy hair and blue (?) eyes. Arguably most attractive face of the bunch. Her father is basically a paladin, her mother is petite but strong (not a fighter though) her aunt is at the head of an army, and she wants in on it. Since she was very young she’s trained with her father in the hopes to join their army (and succeeded) and she’s become the epitome of a huge muscular woman in so doing. She tries to follow her father’s ideals of “justice and protection to the weak and innocent” in theory, but due to her sometimes abrasive attitude (which she gets from him), and the fact that she has inherited a lot of her mother’s personality (a “the end justifies the means” kinda gal), she can sometimes have a warped vision of morality that she has to work on a lot. Sadly, she’s also inherited a bit of her father’s introverted exterior and aunt’s “in case of doubt, punch” reasoning and honestly, that’s just a whole mess of a personality combo but she tries her best. She’s easily the most confident and assertive of the group and never doubts her abilities or goals (sometimes maybe a bit too much), might even boast a lot tad. She’s extremely protective of her loved ones and is the kind that will yell at you for getting in trouble (big sister vibe +1); before her older cousin was adopted she was used to being the oldest of the family and therefore still feels responsible of everyone’s safety, she’ll definitely always try to be in control for every situation. She actually butts head a lot with her adoptive cousin because of them both taking the “older and wiser” role, and it took her a while to begrudgingly admit he’s often better than her at handling things, and that they should just work together instead of trying to one-up each other. She loves messing with people (ESPECIALLY her younger brother whom she can drive MAD) but hates being messed with and will definitely get her revenge. She does her typical “older sibling friendly bullying” thing, but if you trashtalk her brother anywhere near her you’re dead. Only she can mess with him, it’s the law.

  ______________________________________________________________

We’ve got the middle child (here), the one I called Lyn (actually a character from another story, this one created entirely by me, that I inserted here once just because and somehow she ended up with an entirely different backstory and family). Related to the other two Brother and Sister by blood (dad is their mother’s half-brother). Somehow looks more like her father’s sister than her parents, also a lot like her mother though she hates to admit it. Her mother had her without ever telling her dad and was extremely abusive to her for 10 years (she has scars, mostly on her back). At that age her father, who was married, found out about her and tried to get in contact with her, until he found out the way she was being treated. Her mom tried to get rid of him by getting him arrested, but his sister-in-law (maybe?? What do you call the sister of the husband of your sister??? She’s the head of the army I mentioned earlier) pulled some strings and managed to get him and his husband custody as well as getting the mom banished. Lyn hasn’t seen her since (but she will ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ). She’s extremely happy with her dads now and thankful to have them.

Her dad is actually a fire mage and she has great control over fire herself, but no interest in pursuing that talent academically; she’s good with knowing how to burn stuff that annoys her when necessary. She greatly prefers to run around outside; she’s really good at sports, an extremely good climber and fighter, runs fast and is agile (all this taught to her by her stepdad). She’s not as much of a “horse girl” as her cousin, but she’s got her own horse (she created it; don’t ask) and she loves him to death. Has absolutely no clue what she wants to do with her life as an accomplished adult and honestly neither do I; maybe she’ll end up going on adventures for the sake of it like the original characters, why not. She honestly doubts herself, her own abilities and her future a lot, but usually tries to hide it behind jokes and smiles. She’s actually extremely resourceful and a quick-thinker, but only if doing so will end in mischief. Sidenote: she drives her adopted cousin up the fucking wall. He just wants to rest and be chill most of the time and she somehow always gets him mixed up in her messes, which he always has to help her clean up. He loves her, but damn does he also want to strangle her. (And now I can see the Vanderwood/Saeyoung vibes, god dammit @marshmallowprotection​  was right about both their matches)

  ______________________________________________________________

And finally, the Younger Brother (here). Perfect mix of his parents, white, grandma’s wavy locks, dark hair and blue eyes, arguably the cutest (his sister and his side of the family just got the bamf genes): youngest of the whole gang, used to being doted on, particularly by his sister. Also used to not being taken seriously because he’s young and being messed with a lot, PARTICULARLY by his sister. He has a huge inferiority complex towards her because he’s always felt like she was more accomplished and closer to their father than he was (which is partially true because since she pursued the same career as him they just got to spend a lot of time training etc. but he loves his children equally. He himself is closer to their mother and mother’s brother) and had a better grasp than him on what to do with her life and how to achieve her goals. He later discovered himself a talent in magic and learned a lot through his grandfather and his mother’s brother the mage; successfully entered the same school as he, one of the best of its kind and has been receiving nothing but praise since. He’s very excited about his studies now. Still very cunning and ambitious.

I mentioned in his matchup description him being easy to manipulate due to his insecurities (also true in love; my baby was in an abusive relationship for some time, his first love, but he’s okay now (his sister and Lyn avenged him…)) and hurting someone he loved because of it: that’s actually Lyn. When he was younger and still dabbling with magic, he started to learn things outside of his level due to the manipulations of his grandfather (that guy is a whole other story, we’re not gonna get into it). Lyn tried to warn him that he was going too far, but tired of never being taken seriously, he tried to prove her wrong and accidentally injured her (and then ran away for two weeks because he had no idea what to do and had a major breakdown). Lyn lost her sight from her left eye; she got most of her sight back now, though not all, but couldn’t get rid of the scar on her face. He felt particularly guilty because out of the entire group, Lyn was the one he had the closest kinship and relationship with due to them being the youngest and certified troublemakers and he couldn’t cope with what he did to her. Lyn was the one who forgave him, helped him get out of that bad mental place, reject their grandfather and get help, and they’ve become even closer ever since, basically inseparable. (Which to me makes the fact I ship them both with TWINS hilarious. Actually damn, that whole thing reminds me a lot of Saeran attacking Saeyoung too because of his mental state and Saeyoung being the one to help him anyway. I’m starting to understand why I ship them with the twins).

 … hope you don’t regret asking, anon x’DD

[writingwitchly]

A Potter never accepts a defeat

Word count: 1,8k

Warning: NONE OF THAT HERE, THANK YOU

A/N: For my gem wife, @beaubcxton. Darling, this is my idea of that special date they never got to have. I hope you like it, tho it’ll never be as good as anything you write, but the angel that is @hermione-who fixed it with her magic. @reggieblck calling you too, sweetie <3.

Pairing: Jily

***

A Potter never accepts a defeat.

He had kept trying, trying, trying.

He was on the right path. 

***

The trees’ naked branches were perfectly still, the castles’ cavities as silent as the approaching Christmas holiday allowed. There was no wind, and thank Merlin, because James Potter was about to ice on spot, even inside the dormitory.

His eyes scanned the grounds, the earth muffled under the thick layer of last night’s frozen rain, and he smiled a goofy smile. He tore his gaze from the window, and swung around to get his muffles before sprinting down the wooden stairs. His hand grabbed the last newel post, almost ripping it from its place, to facilitate his change in direction as he zoomed toward the exit.

The common room was warm from the crackling fire in the chimney, the regular murmured conversations and ocasional laughs formed a pleasant buzzing. James thought that the place had never been this wonderful. But today, everything was.

“Where are you running to?”

Peter’s sarcastic question hung in the air, but it did not matter. Everybody knew the answer. 

Caught in his excitement, James didn’t notice Marlene’s sideways smile as she shouted at him to right his glasses, nor did he hear Kingsley's imprecations as they nearly collided before the Fat Lady’s portrait. He didn’t laugh at Remus’ hot chocolate mug almost ending up on the floor as he suddenly appeared in the hallway, nor did he take time to stuck his tongue out to a very flustered Filch -- “No running in the corridors, you duke of limbs!”

In less time than it would have costed Sirius to enrage Professor McGonagall, James’ boots were drowned in the outside snow, his eyes frantic behind his glasses in search of a spot of color among the whiteness. A red spot, to be precise.

“Good morning Potter.”

She was to his right, a foot behind him, grinning like a four year old who’d just won a game of hide and seek.

His heart skipped a bit.

“‘morning Evans.” His tongue was as numb as the rest of his body.

The clarity around made her cheeks look like a rose’s petals, and James sucked in a deep breath at the sight of her red lips.

Her smile widened as she stepped forward. “You almost look decent today.”

He wanted to answer. Really. Something witty maybe. But he could have opened and closed his mouth a thousand times, nothing was going to come out of it.

Merlin, she was gorgeous.

Lily gently tilted her head, amused by the boy’s lack of his usual readiness. “Are we going to stay here for long? I’m becoming an ice cube.” 

James shook his head, and premorously offered her his arm, making her laugh.

They began their stroll in silence, her looking at the sky in innocent distraction, him holding her as close as he could without being awkward. The way was empty, except for a couple of squirrels that seemed eager to follow them while rolling in the snow.

The temperature was not as low anymore, and the boy assumed it was because the sun was on its way to the roof of the sky. Or was it because of the growing heat on his face? 

If she had been there to watch the scene -- which seemed to come right out of a Peynett drawing -- Euphemia Potter would have told her husband that ‘They look very much in love.’ After an amused look from Fleamont, she would have added ‘The squirrels, of course,’ and then hid her malicious smile -- the one Sirius had taught her -- behind her handkerchief.

But the Potter parents were not here.

It was just the two of them, on a date, finally.

James and Lily.

And the squirrels, of course.

“So, Potter...” He glanced sideways at her perfect profile. Her words, when out of her mouth, turned into graceful clouds. “Justify yourself for making me skip my saturday morning visit to the library when it’s below zero outside.”

The first draught of the day sent chills running down his spine. Or maybe it was her grip, tightening delicately.

James cleared his throat.

“Reading too much isn’t good for your eyesight, you know.” She couldn’t hold back a snort, one of those she used to offer him when he widely flirted with her, but she was ready to decline. Except this time she hadn’t. “It’s true! Plus, it’s not good for your mood, breathing book dust all day long. You’d turn into a red headed Moony. We don’t want you to wear unmatching sox and become addicted to chocolate, do we?”

Her laugh was a bubbly hint of spring in this early stage of winter. James could have sworn she sounded like flowers blooming.

“So what should I become addicted to, Potter?”

The mischievous glint in the green of her eyes was something that had only very recently appeared, in the last months. 

He was going to fall back into muteness, embarrassed by what this question could mean. After all, he assumed that it was what she wanted: to have the last word.

But a Potter never accepts a defeat.

“Learned to be tricky, didn’t you?”

“Yes. From a real expert.” Hadn’t she been so close, James could have thought he’d daydreamed about her wink. “So?”

What could he do but smile?

“So you talk too much, Evans. I say you should make your feet work more and your tongue rest.” Lily raised her eyebrows, and her look followed the direction in which he was pointing. “See the bridge? Shouldn’t be more than thirty meters away. The last to get there is a-”

But she had already sprinted forward, ready as she always was to win a competition, the two squirrels trailing behind her with happy squeaking.

It took James a good fraction of second to stop gazing at the flames of her hair against the white landscape, and to move from his position. She had gained some advance, but he could make it before her easily.

A Potter never accepts a defeat.

He felt the air burn in his lungs, his muscles awakening after a week without Quidditch practice, and the adrenaline shooting him forward like one of Dumbledore’s spells. He heard her broken breathing, some meters before him, and pushed harder on the ground, his boots making the snow creak like broken shell nuts.

He was not more than three meters away from her…

Her inhaling waves were stressed.

A Potter never accepts a defeat.

Two meters…

She glanced behind her shoulder, and let out a high-pitched cry of surprise.

A Potter never accepts a defeat.

One meter…

Anybody else would have surrendered, preferring to let their heart recover a normal beat instead of winning a stupid race.

A Potter never accepts a defeat.

When they were just a few bounces away from the river, James gave one last effort.

But, right when he could have bypassed her, his legs slowed down, and a moment later she was perched on the first of the three stone stairs that started the bridge.

A Potter never accepts a defeat.

But a Potter knows to choose the right victory.

Holding her ribs, bent in two, struggling to inhale any air in between her chuckling, she was the best view James had ever had the chance to see.

“Nice run, Evans.” He was quicker than her to stabilize his breath, obviously. His hair was ruffled, he pushed his glasses up with a finger that would have been all sweaty, in another season. “Let’s see if you can do it again, shall we?”

“Shut up, Potter.” She muttered. “You talk too much.”

He bursted in a loud laughter, and stepped forward to offer her his help.

Had the squirrels not been there, maybe nothing special would have happened that morning. But the little animals found themselves right on the spot where James’ feet was set to land, and he lost his balance in an attempt to avoid them at the last moment.

He was going to fall sideways, but Lily was fast in catching his arms, pulling him near her. They found each other nose to nose, close enough to inhale the same air.

James’ heartbeat had climbed up to his ears.

“Look.” Lily whispered with a shy smirk. “I’m taller than you.”

Her eyes were magnets that attracted his.

“Only because you’re on a step, Evans.”

This was his very breathless attempt to cool his nerves down.

There was a pause. They didn’t notice the icy wind anymore.

“I’ve dreamt of this for quite some time, you know.”

“What? Being taller than me?”

“No.” She leaned forward, and James’ mouth became incredibly itchy. “This.”

Her lips were as soft at the snowflakes that were falling from the sky, sprinkling their hair with Nature’s pureness. The skin of her face brushed against his, her hands getting lost in his hair.

He had dreamt about it countless times, inflicted his wild imaginations to his friends for years, depicted the most hopeful scenarios, but nothing of what he had pictured was worthy of being compared to this moment.

Eyes closed, James kissed her back, circling her waist with his hands, tenderly pressing her body to his. A cherubs’ choir had set up a grandiose show in his mind.

On the border of the path, the two squirrels had stopped chasing each other. Their little eyes were fixed on the young couple, their muzzles shaking, as if in approval. One of them even seemed to sketch a malicious smile.

James felt Lily’s cold wrists on the back of his neck, her smile against his.

It was evident that the snow was falling, now, that they should probably head back to the castle if they didn’t want to be buried.

But before that...

“What do you think about this, Evans? Want to withdraw your affirmation?”

He was referring to the time she had told him he was probably awful at kissing.

A lost sun ray reflected in her white teeth.

“I guess you’re an ok kisser, Potter.”

“I know r- What? No. No way. I am an outstanding kisser. You were just too amazed to realize it.”

Her hum of indecision got a smile out of him.

“I’m really not sure, Potter. I think you’re just average.”

“And I’m telling you, you’re wrong.”

“Oh, really. Then what? It’s my word against yours.” Lily whispered.

She was teasing him, and it turned his inside into a big knot.

He could have shrugged, rolled his eyes.

But a Potter never accepts a defeat.

“I say have the right to a second round, to prove you wrong.”

The squirrels turned their back on the river and sped toward their tree, leaving the place entirely still. The mass of clouds above them separated, letting the sun bath this white parcel of the world, the wind sat down, waiting to see.

As James’ mouth found Lily’s again, the winter seemed to hold its breath.

[myfriendpokey]

clearance sale

clearing out some of my backlog of opinions before the new year so i can start anew. in this post I have accumulated some writing scraps on the only three topics: 1. finance 2. mystery 3. location

FINANCE

i enjoyed these recent-ish posts against the idea of indie sustainability, although as someone who already works a day job i always feel a bit ambivalent about the advice to just work a day job to pay for this stuff - - like yes, absolutely, do it, BUT sell your shit too in the knowledge that the type of precarity we associate w/ creative work is already in the process of being implemented everywhere else as well (or has already been - zero hour contracts, sub-living wages etc). like i am fortunate to still have a day job which pays a living wage and leaves me time to work on my own things on the side - but this feels like an anachronism rather than an inevitability right now.. maybe my unsustainable games will help keep me afloat when my job gets automated and i have to go work in an amazon warehouse, unsustainable games for an unsustainable job, ha ha ha. video games are an exploitative bubble but so is the rest of "the market".

it is true that this is a political problem rather than one in the narrow remit of things that can be fixed with the right 10-point sales plan- -  nevertheless i think the issue of trying to make even small money off these things will remain kind of pressing as, in turn, regular employment comes more and more to resemble irregularly compensated hobbyist labour.

anyway one point i found really interesting, which i think all the above posts kind of grapple with - - the idea that it's not necessarily more "realistic" to aim at selling 1000 copies rather than 100,000. i think while we make fun of the aspiring millionaires a lot of people have just been banking on the idea of a fertile middle ground between the two extremes of tiny and ludicrous amounts of sales, between boom and bust. i'm sure there are still people working in that space but it seems like it's shrinking.

one question brendan keogh asks in his piece is "why should game makers be any different  [from the norm of artists, musicians etc not really making any money]?" i think this can actually be answered a little - because hobbyist game development sort of exploded in tandem with the internet itself becoming more naturalized within everyday life, because the economic basis for indie games was always centered around the internet, which means people working in indie games were always in the vicinity of the massive, startling movements of capital that the internet rendered more visible and immediate. no more were the weird vicissitudes of the market hidden behind closed doors, in boardrooms or stock quotations - now you could log onto any site and see just bewildering amounts of money suddenly funnel into the pockets of this or that individual in real time, frequently to their own surprise as well. and i think this connected to something more general - a sort of ambient awareness of financialization, the way "the financial sector" cannibalized things like industry, the greater visibility of capital not as something embedded in some specific product or set of individual practices but as a kind of weird free-floating aura arbitrarily descending or departing. enormous reservesof "general" wealth became more visible just as the benefits and stability of waged employment became yet more desolate and i think you need to see the draw of one in part as a consequence of the other. 

gacha-capitalism, permanent artificial scarcity coupled with the vague, insistent prospect of fantastic gains, as long as you keep playing. which is a rhythm already enshrined in many areas of working life - broke college students and unpaid graduates hustling for eventual employment, waged workers grinding through until  retirement. but it's one the enhanced immediacy and swiftness of capital on the internet intensified and extended. fabulous payouts can strike anyone at any time, in exchange for slowly bleeding out the prospect of any other kind of livelihood. much like the austerity following the financial crash which levelled so many basic social services for no particular purpose other than the hope that doing so for long enough would please the gods of prosperity to start tossing money around again. all dues, no pay.

i do think it's worth being cynical about the efforts to domesticate this process, building a fair and sustainable biome within capitalism, by using the tools of that same capitalism etc.  but if the format can't be seperated from the wider world then that's something which swings both ways. for me the most interesting critical work around vgames right now is in the effort to move outside of the constant, numbing boom-and-bust cycles of capital, the idiot repetition of exhilaration and depression and exhilaration and it'll all be okay as long as we can hold out one more cycle, particularly when that's a rhythm which has been central to the development of the format from the beginning. i think anyone involved with developing videogames has probably seen multiple generations of cool shit emerge, get abruptly killed off and written out of history in accordance with market diktats, and then replaced with a new wave of cool shit whenever the investors shift gears into "expansion" mode again. a mode of thinking about and preserving what people do that stands in opposition to this is something i can easily imagine being more generally useful in the culture, as ever more areas of life and culture start becoming subject to the same questions.

MYSTERY

there's a mystery in depth and a mystery in shallowness. with depth the habitual glance of recognition goes out and falls through - you can place roughly where something is in relation to the world, but not what it's doing, not where it goes. as a presence it seems to require a new mode of attention to be recognized, which i guess is why it sometimes makes me uneasy - that challenge, the way that challenge can be moralized. are you a bad enough dude to engage with art?? if there are 100 black obelisks in a field which one do you decide to look at? and will it really turn out to be deep, or just dense?

videogames can feel like depth-worship, like the embodiment of an essentially cthonic system of values. how deep did you go and what did you see there? did  you find the gold bars in pac-man? (www.mikesarcade.com/cgi-bin/spies.cgi?action=url&type=info&page=pmgoldbar.info.txt) did you see the secret ending? how far did you get into the game mechanics, into the lore? this marks the top 10 deepest players on this game. surpass  them... if you dare. an ethos of diligent attention, hierarchial levels of  understanding and initiate-dom, a sub-culture. and at best a maguslike  dedication to altered states of consciousness that i can respect, an interest in shifting through mangled pieces of debris in search of secret mysteries. at worst the authority cults and tests of true belonging that spring up around those mysteries, whose value is in being hidden and whose guarantee is in the strenuous effort with which they must be located. paranoia about true spiritual meanings being plundered by opportunistic interlopers. stay out. get good.

the videogame has the basic opacity of the computer system and the act of engaging with this curious abyss is allegorized into dungeons, castles, mazes. trapdoors and secret corridors. one pleasure in looking up older games for me is in seeing them recognize and learn how to thematize this basic sense of mystery. in bubble bobble the obscure scoring mechanics and secret endings are cheekily perverse, arcade challenge by another means - another system to game. in king's quest there's something like a crossfertilization between the strange causal voids of the fairy tale and the adventure game: "Exit the gingerbread house and go east and east. There is a large walnut tree here. Take walnut and then open walnut to discover a gold nut. Head east and take bowl . Look bowl  to see the words “fill” at the bottom. Fill and the bowl will fill up with a delicious stew." the wizardry games took the connection between mysterious game systems and occult knowledge much further - the "true" ending of wizardry iv means finding a secret chamber and answering a series of riddles based on your knowledge of the kaballah (or at least, kaballah-derived tarot interpretations).

it's easy to moralize depth - lotus eaters, magic islands. you wander through a strange land and then return to find it's 5 hours later and you forgot to eat. there's something creepy to me about depth on an industrial scale, about building huge tunnels with massive teams on forced overtime, and then a team of professional tunnel reviewers cautiously start descending on ropes and come back every so often and say, well, 20 hours in and it all looks ok, and meanwhile everybody else is jumping en masse. maybe that's more of an issue with consumer culture in general. but sometimes it feels like a way to avoid dealing with certain inherent limitations of that culture, or even limitations of art in general, by projecting those limits out to the end of ever-deeper tunnels that fewer and fewer people will ever see, the rest of them straggling back, exhausted, getting jobs. well, i can't tell you if red dead 2 is good or not. i only got 60 hours in, and i never even found all the falcons.

if the mystery of depth is having too much space for speculation to operate coherently within, the mystery of shallowness is having not enough space for speculation to operate at all: something is too manifestly there, limited, closed-off, it's hard to push it away to get some metaphorical breathing room. 

i feel this way sometimes reading writers like tove jansson, flannery o'connor - SOMETHING happened, the stories are short and clear and describe some definite event without too much uncertainty, they even have "broader themes" raised - but somehow the themes feel embarrassingly outsize for the stories, and the stories remain too clearly defined to sink back into the murk of a generalized moral or experience. they feel like moral stories when you can't work out what the moral might be.

robbe-grillet on raymond roussel: "Now these chains of elucidations,  extraordinarily precise, ingenious, and farfetched, appear so derisory, so disappointing, that it is as if the mystery remained intact. But it  is henceforth a mystery that has been washed, emptied out, that has become  unnameable. The opacity no longer hides anything. One has the impression of  having found a locked drawer, then a key; and this key opens the drawer impeccably... and the drawer is empty."

there's a famous shallowness to videogames as well that's most often caught by people outside the culture - when you see the fake videogames in a comicbook, or on tv, and they're named something like "washing machine simulator 3000" or "municipal tax assailants". and part of this also stems from the computer, the history of the computer as it insinuated its way into everyday life, as a mysteriously elaborate and convoluted way of doing just impossibly banal things, like balancing chequebooks or printing text. the stubborn thingliness of not-quite-functional machines, the way the thingliness glosses and corrodes their own internal fantasies, mirrors of the basic weirdness that is human consciousness as a material fact within the world. 

with my friend i used to joke  about "e3" just being the dumpster behind an abandoned gamestop - all those needy longform experiences frozen into evocative trinkets. find a nonfunctional disk copy of mario odyssey and it gives you all the same delight as playing mario odyssey, only without having to. i think there's something beautiful about that flatness, that directionless object-hostility, the rejection of the grandoise hero's journey fantasies that it implies – as well as something baleful, a rejection of consciousess in general, the idea that it could take you anywhere not inside your own head.

LOCATION

why are there so many videogames about going outside? every time i've played a videogame it's been inside a room, usually a dark one, mostly while still wearing my pajamas. for me it is an internal activity. but not only do all these games take place in fields and plains, they always talk about the wonders of going on a voyage, the beauty of the great outdoors, the superiority of the wandering main characters to the slugs and layabouts who sit at home all day.... it's weird to me, i demand we move past these cloying pseudo-critiques. raymond williams once pointed out that the first pastoral was written from the perspective of a rentier daydreaming of cashing out and moving to a country home. i demand more games with the courage of their implict convictions and that if they require you to sit motionless indoors  for hours they should explicitly establish and argue for a value system in which this is the best possible thing that you can do. imagine if movies were all set in dark chambers full of people sitting down - i think i can say they would be much less insipid as an artform. "all of man's problems stem from an inability to stay in his room".

(images: Gakken No O Benkyou Soft Kazu Suuji, Legend of Legaia, a Chinese bootleg cart, and ...Iru!)

[sabrinaleethings]

Long Story Short - I Suck. [And Here’s Why]

[As a quick, quick synopsis : I did something I told myself I would NEVER ever do and as a result my progress and in essence my entire life kind-of flew away from me. If you don’t really care or are unbothered by the very long-winded and obnoxious post that shall follow, feel free to stop reading here! Just wanted to say hello, hi. I am back, and back with a vengeance.] 

Okay, so here we go with explanations and an awful (and slightly therapeutic) run down of Sabrina’s life these past few months.

[a/n: Cringe warning. Lots of cliches and run-on sentences that make zero sense and may make you scratch your head and say “whaaa?” ... you have been warned.] 

For those of you who don’t know, or need a refresher for because ha, yeah I haven’t been active online in MONTHS: 

My name is Sabrina Lee. I’m a freshly turned 22 year old who’s currently working on her first novel. 

I started blogging (this one specifically) I’d like to say back in... September/November? And let me tell you, the fire that was underneath my a$$ during this time was a flaming-hot inferno stemmed from the deepest pits of hell. 

The amount of energy and time I dedicated to writing, drawing, thinking, and breathing this story at first can border on realm of an unhealthy obsession mixed with a dash of pure excitement. I lived off of pure adrenaline for this bright and new shining world that began opening up for me.

Real talk time: (as if the rest of this won’t be raw and real too), I admittedly have a naturally addictive personality. I also am someone who doesn’t cope well with changes, or sudden shifts in my usual habits or every day life. So? So...

When I first began writing, I was so energized at the thought of being able to create and share. I’d post updates constantly as I wrote more and more (and more and more...)  and I’d receive nothing but support and positive feedback in return. (No joke, thank you to anyone who’s sent me words of encouragement or small snippets of love.) I became addicted to the feeling of writing, and then sharing everything and anything I could on this project.

During the first few weeks and even into months I was busting out thousands of words a day. My greatest day hitting about 3500 words. I’d even done a couple of paintings for concept ideas inbetween. 

It was the greatest thing ever. To feel like this novel was something so possible, so tangible. I pushed myself more and more and more, I wanted to be finished by the end of December with my first rough copy. (Spoiler: I failed.) 

I was stuck on such a high of this new and exciting chapter in my life, I was doing something I so badly wanted to do. Something I’d always dreamed of doing.

Sooner or later though, gravity here on earth conquers and I began feeling myself grow heavier and heavier. The high and weightlessness I felt when I first started writing began to fade as I found the words harder and harder to produce.

I got frustrated, and I gave up after a couple of months. I had failed. 

Granted, let’s put this in retrospect to the environment I was in.

Up until the end of January, I was working full-time at a retail job. (Albeit a bookstore of all things...) And with the holiday (Christmas/New Years) season quickly approaching, I found myself working between forty and fifty hours a week (thank-you last minute holiday shoppers!). 

SO. With working full time and already feeling slightly discouraged about this project, I began forcing myself to write. (Here’s where the addictive traits kick in). I wasn’t having fun anymore, I wasn’t sleeping (thanks retail) but I was still sitting myself down at my computer at 11, 12:00, 1:00am to write words that didn’t carry any meaning. I was totally burned out. The flame and drive in me snuffed. 

I was addicted to creating and escaping reality so much, I let my mental health and physical health diminish..

It got to the point where I was too tired to work, to tired to write, and so I put this project down to be worked on at a later date.

Silly Sabrina didn’t realize she wouldn’t be working on it again until five months later.

Fast forward to February. By this time, financial instability was something that had taken the spotlight in my life, so I picked up a second job. And I hadn’t thought twice about continuing the story - I had no time to think about anything other than wake up, work, work at the second store, go home to sleep, and do it again. 

Two and a half solid months disappeared without me even realizing it. 

I got so caught up in the present moment, I never gave a glance at the future. My future.

Mid-February and early March I had the itch in my bones to write again. To create.

During this time, I slowly stole whatever free moments I had to escape into the world of Detroit: Become Human.  It was the first fandom in a very long time I had been able to escape into, and as such I found myself writing fanfiction for it. Thousands and thousands of words began accumulating for short stories I had been writing for this game. 

I kept telling myself that everything I had written for this fandom, all of the short fiction pieces I wrote, was practice for when I finally found the energy and time to write my book again. 

I believe, that with moderation and time management skills that I clearly lack, this was a great idea.

I think it still could have been a great idea- if executed properly.

I had begun writing close to two thousand words a day for a fanfiction I was creating, and my dumbass, like the first time, found myself burning out.

I love writing. Loved writing so much, that I would do it whenever I could. Even if it meant staying up all night to finish a chapter for Detroit, or using time at work to finish writing down an idea I had.

I’d get these random bursts of energy and inspiration to write, and I’d use 1000% of whatever energy I could to create. Not good, not good.

Fast forward a bit more to now.

It’s the first week in May, and I haven’t written a new sentence in my book since the end of December. 

I would say I failed. But in all honesty, I haven’t quite failed. Not just yet. I refuse to believe it.

This is a second chance.

Last month between both jobs, I was working between 10 and 12 hours a day, seven days a week. There was a solid thirty-one, 31 days I went straight without a full day off. 

Times have changed. (Thank the Gods).

Toward the end of February I met someone special, and that someone just so happens now to be one of my biggest fans, and someone who’s taught me that it’s totally okay to take time for you to love, and take care of your own self.

I’ve finally relaxed into the idea that this, what I’m doing now, and what I will be doing in the future, is all okay.

One of the biggest fears I had, was that all of the work I had put into my book, was a waste of time. That in the end, the time invested wouldn’t have been justifiable.

Now? Now I’m comfortable with allowing myself to look to the future. 

I’ve finally given myself the breathing room and self-love I’d needed to fully envision the future I want and crave. 

And that’s to be an author of Trysten, Callum, and Samson’s narrative.

I finally have time again to dedicate to working a little bit at a time toward finishing this project.

I finally now know my limits, and how to keep myself from burning out so quickly.

I’m just... so excited to feel like I’m back to the old me I used to be. Just wiser and now not as stressed. 

The flame has returned for this story. I know in my heart that writing is something I will do. Being and author and creator is who I am. 

I can’t imagine a future where I didn’t get this freaking story written.

So long story short,

I had failed. I had failed myself, but that’s okay. Learning and growing is what we do as human beings. It just takes some people a little big longer.

Hello again friends, 

It has been a while.

I am back.

I love you all.

-Sabrina Lee

[menatiera]

hey :D this is for the prompt ask, feel free to ignore though if it doesn't tickle your muses ^^ I wish you would write a fic where Tony, bucky and Steve from your 'just give me a reason verse' interact in a friendly, relaxed, healthy atmosphere? like, way down the line, in a happy universe where they are all older and alive? also I have read in the wiki that the most famous winteriron AU is tattoo artist bucky and florist Tony but never seen much of the sort (1/2)

                                                                                                                            (2/2) but I have never seen much of the sort which is honestly a shame if you ask me.   apart from that, I’m always up for healthy friendships and/or angsty pining xD   I hope at least some of that is interesting to you :D if not that’s totally fine though

So this is the first part of answering your ask! When I started to write, I completely forgot about the request for the JGMAR fic to be in the far future, so I set it up after The Best of You, I hope you don’t mind! Also it’s not exactly fluffy, but its main topic is giving comfort each other when it’s needed, so I hope you don’t mind. ^^ I’ll do the Winteriron fill as soon as I can, too! Thank you so much for the prompt, I had much fun! ^^

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15637137

Title: Unbreakable

Pairing: Stuckony (Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark)

Words: 3358

Rated: G

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply; (mention of flashbacks, dissociation and kidnapping - but nothing is described)

Summary: “He got used to it like one gets used to their own heartbeat, and it became the natural order of things: Bucky’s deep or Tony’s shallow breaths in his ears are part of the silence that engulfs him up here.“ 

Or: SHIELD puts Steve in a cabin in the woods alone. Luckily Tony and Bucky do their best to make it bearable.

“Turn around seven degrees to the left,” Bucky instructs from the earpiece. Steve obeys, making sure his body language remains relaxed as he does so like it’s entirely accidental that as a result, his drawing on the paper becomes invisible to the cameras.

It isn’t that hard. The sound of the steady breathing over the connection is calming, and probably the only thing that kept Steve sane today.

“Keep drawing,” Tony adds. Apparently, Steve stopped at some point. “We need at least a few minutes of new recording to feed to the system.”

Steve sighs and continues Peggy’s portrait, now at an advanced speed that the cameras can’t see the actual progress. He uses the photo from his compass as a reference, not because he needs it – thank you, eidetic memory –, but because the ones watching him don’t need more clues just how good his memory is.

Tony’s breathing pattern is different from Bucky’s. His is quicker, sharper; he always sounds a bit out of breath. Steve suspects it’s because of the ARC-reactor and the reduced lung capacity caused by it, but never had the guts to actually ask about it. He got used to it like one gets used to their own heartbeat, and it became the natural order of things: Bucky’s deep or Tony’s shallow breaths in his ears are part of the silence that engulfs him up here.

“Alright, done,” Tony announces. “It’s chatty time. How’re you doing, Cap?”

(keep reading under the cut)

“Already better.” Steve stretches his back and leans back in his chair, head tilted left like he could listen better that way. Usually, by now he’d be halfway to the loose floorboard where he hides his StarkPad, and read the newsfeed while talking, but he remains seated this time, focusing fully on the communicator instead. “Wish you could actually be here.”

“That would ruin the point of solitary confinement, you know,” Bucky answers dryly, which is his default nowadays, while at the same time Tony says:

“Do you need us there? You know I could fly there, no problem.”

Tony actually did it once, earning some outraged calls from SHIELD and probably Steve getting back to square zero thanks to this impulsive decision. Tony, being himself, probably counted on that, but also took into account the positive effect his little rebellion had on Steve. It added up to the mere fact that pissing SHIELD off was one of Tony’s favourite pastime activities even before he knew they were HYDRA, and it tripled after. In all honesty, the organization needed a good reminder from time to time just how much were they unable to control Iron Man anyway.

And Steve went for a week after the guerrilla action without flashbacks or lashing out.

“Not without me, not again!” Bucky growls, and Steve’s chest suddenly feels just as tight as it was when he was an asthmatic kid. Only this time it’s a good kinda tightness, filled with warmth.

“I appreciate the offer.” Steve smiles, no matter that his boyfriends – and how crazy it is to even think about them as such – can’t see it. “Just… remind me why am I doing this.”

“To earn SHIELD’s trust.” Bucky doesn’t hesitate to answer, but neither does Tony:

“To fool HYDRA.”

“If  that’s even possible.”

“You managed just fine,” Tony reminds Bucky. Again. Because everyone needs a reminder sometimes, and Steve knows that, and shouldn’t be ashamed for his turn when he’s the one who needs the reassurance. “You got away on your own, and now there’s the three of us, plus the whole team. They don’t have a chance, they won’t even know what hit them.”

“I’d prefer if they’d knew.” Steve closes his eyes and imagines his boyfriends as they talk.

He pictures Bucky’s long hair, the scruff on his face – new additions in this century, along with the profound exhaustion carved into his features somehow. But also there are the things Steve remembers clear as day from  before: the shape of Bucky’s nose and jawline, the affectionate way he sometimes looks at Tony or at Steve - like they are more important than anything in the world -, the mischievous grin when a good idea comes to his mind, the childlike excitement over new discoveries.

And then there’s Tony; brilliant, genius, gorgeous Tony who’s nothing like Howard once you get to know him. Steve in his fantasy traces his fingers through Tony’s goatee that suits him surprisingly well, he conjures up the brown chocolate of Tony’s eyes and the warm twilight of his hair, and his million different smiles.

Steve imagines himself between them as the banter continues in his ear, Bucky insisting on being careful with HYDRA, Tony throwing reassurances left and right, probably to hide his own insecurities. It feels strange to hear Bucky so concerned. Since Steve got this new version of his old friend back, Bucky was adamantly confident in his – in their – abilities any other time. But when it came to HYDRA, the fear they had taught him came with full force and made him insecure and hesitant.

Steve never hates his decades-long freeze-nap as much as he does in these moments. It never ceases to make him mad, and as always anger curls in his guts again, urging him to finally do something instead of sitting around and waiting and planning. No matter that he knows all too well how stupid it would be to break the doors and march into Pierce’s office and strangle him with his own tie, he wants to do that and so much more. But for the ‘so much more’ part to be fulfilled, he has to stay put for a little while.

To be fair, it took the whole team’s combined effort, including Clint, Natasha, Tony, and even Bucky, to stop him when he first learned about Pierce and HYDRA, not three months ago.

The waiting and the feelings of uselessness aren’t any easier now than they were back then.

And… this isn’t something he should be thinking about right now.

“Any news from Clint?” Steve asks, interrupting a debate whether he should eat peanut butter or strawberry jam next morning and which one is more American.

“He’s working.”

Steve can practically see Bucky’s shrug. The answer doesn’t give enough for his mind to drag itself away from upsetting tracks, though.

“No words from him yet, but he’d contact us if he’d need anything,” Tony adds.

“What about Natasha?”

“She’s keeping an eye on your babysitters, don’t worry.” That is the main reason Steve agreed to SHIELD’s request to come to this mountain cabin alone. ‘To clear his head and accommodate to the new circumstances,’ their reasoning said, but Steve didn’t need Bucky’s or Natasha’s snort to know bullshit when someone tried to sock him in the face with it. Of course, it isn’t for Steve’s own good.

They’re trying to break him, isolating him even more from everything he knows, and they’re studying him while doing so.

Luckily for Steve, he isn’t as alone as these morons think. Bucky and Tony make a great effort to keep him not only company, but provide entertainment as well. Well, the performative part is mostly on Tony, but Steve has a suspicion where some of his ideas came from.

And while Steve plays bait and lab rat, the others are using this as a chance for their investigations. Clint disappeared from the radar – got an extended vacation from SHIELD after he had been cleared by their shrinks, justified by the lingering psychological effects of mid-term mind control – and he’s currently using his not-so-legal past connections to learn more about HYDRA. While Natasha starts looking into everyone, including Captain America’s observers and she’s slowly wrapping up the thread,so they know who’s friend and who’s foe when they’re ready to attack.

Steve just wishes he could be more active and useful while they’re waiting for that time.

“Hey. Hey. Stevie!”

He shudders as Bucky uses the old nickname. “What?”

“You didn’t answer,” Tony says, concern audible in his voice, “for a few minutes.”

Oh shit.

“Two minutes and forty-seven seconds,” Bucky probably doesn’t exactly want him to hear the addition, given how quiet it is.

Steve sighs. He’s aware he started to lose time, but it’s hard to keep track of it despite him sticking with a strict daily routine. Sometimes things still just blur together now and again, even with the hidden communicator in his ear. “How much more time do we have?”

“Don’t fret over that now, Sweetcheeks, we have it under control,” Tony reassures him. “What do you need right now?”

Steve rubs the back of his neck. That’s the problem, sure. The only thing he can think of right now is out of the question. He wants  them , not just as voices in his ear but in the flesh, right next to him, right in his arms. His throat goes dry at the thought of going home and laying down in the ridiculously massive bed in Tony’s bedroom with the familiar Hogwarts House blankets, and being embraced by his boyfriends. He desires nothing more.

“Just…”

Gosh, he can’t and shouldn’t wish this. His job right now is to be up here, alone and as okay as he can, giving some false data about his endurance to HYDRA agents that are thinking about ways to break him. It’s a mission, it’s his part in their plan. Steve isn’t the type to abandon missions, no matter how meaningless or hard they seem at the time.

The silence stretches between them.

“You should come home,” Bucky says very quietly.

Steve’s laugh sounds like a sob.

“Right now I’m not even sure you’re real,” he admits through gritted teeth. Being weak, being vulnerable is the worst feeling, except that actually admitting these weaknesses are even worse. And even though he’s reasonably confident the surveillance in the house is off the chart momentarily, he can’t be entirely sure.

After all, Bucky fell, and Tony is so much out of his league, how could he be that damn lucky to have them? How could a fairy tale like this be real?

How can he tell if it isn’t just a wild imagination, a symptom of isolation? According to his insufficient knowledge on the subject, this all could be happening in his head. Well, that would be a more rational explanation to the Chitauri Invasion than that ‘a Norse God opened a portal to space above Manhattan with a glowing cube that fell into the ocean seventy years ago.’ And crazy wish-fulfillment is an easier explanation for his relationships than ‘homosexual polyamory is an acceptable lifestyle in the future.’

“Oh sweetheart,” Bucky says, indecipherable emotions in his voice. “Hey, uhm, okay. Listen that I’m here. You hear my breathing, and my voice, right? I’m—”

“Rubbish.” Tony has no patience for Bucky’s rambling. For a missed heartbeat, Steve’s sure this is the moment that will burst his mental bubble and leave him an absolute mess. Tony ignores Steve’s sharp breath in favor of continuing. “Your imagination is not nearly good enough to come up with something like me, Sleeping Beauty; therefore we’re real. I’m sorry, these are the cold-hearted facts. I’m unique. And if you really are doubting yourself, then I’ll explain the science behind my repulsor tech, which would probably result in you yawning your pretty blonde head off in boredom and being confused as hell because as much as you learned under my thoughtful guidance, it’s still way above your engineering paygrade.”

“Close your eyes, Stevie,” Bucky jumps in again, not letting Tony finish his monologue. Steve obeys the order without question, as he would do practically anything as long as Bucky calls him like that. “We’ll walk you through this little… experiment and all you have to do is to imagine as vividly as you can, okay?”

“I’ll try to keep it centenarian-appropriate,” Tony adds a little dryly, but then his voice brightens back to its usual level of cheerfulness, and Steve holds back a laugh. The term ‘centenarian-appropriate’ probably isn’t for his sake, but for Bucky’s, who still isn’t exactly comfortable with the physical intimacy beyond a certain point. “So, you’re in our bedroom, laying down on your back - because you still prefer sleeping on your back, right? Good. Imagine it with all your senses – the silk sheet’s touch on your skin, the slight breeze of the AC from above, the smell of the apartment. It’s quiet at the moment. Do you want Jarvis to play some music? He can totally play music anytime—”

Steve, eyes still closed, smiles. “No, it’s okay,” he answers the rhetorical question. “Where are you though?”

“I was gonna get there! At your age you should really be more patient,” Tony huffs. “So I enter the room with James, and we’re chatting about something and laughing—”

“You’re laughing and chatting,” Bucky interrupts. “And I’m listening because I have no other choice. Let’s be realistic.”

“You are no fun, but okay. So we enter, and we see you on the bed draped over like a starfish and— heeey, my ear! You can’t blame me for—”

Steve would die if he could witness the scene in its entirety. He has a suspicion Bucky’s disciplining methods are just as unusual as most of everything that he does, and it’s probably hilarious.

“This is an imaginative exercise for Steve, Tony, try to keep serious!” Bucky scolds.

“What, it’s better if I say he’s tucked away securely in the blankets? Ouch, not  fair, my ribs!”

“We enter and Tony lays down next to you on one side, and I’m on the other,” Bucky takes the story into his own hands. “How do you want to arrange the two of us?”

Steve, who soundlessly laughed in the last minute at their bickering, doesn’t need to think twice. “Can I have you tucked under my arms and held close? Tony’s head on my chest and yours on my shoulder?”

“It’s your fantasy, sweetheart, you can have anything you want.”

Steve feels his ears turning pink by the suggestion. Bright red would probably be a more accurate description, but he refuses to acknowledge this tiny little fact. Is Bucky really flirting with him right now, or is he reading too much into it?

But he’s more relaxed already.

“We agreed on a realistic setting, so no tentacles this time, though,” Tony chirps in. It’s not the first time Steve suspects at least mild mind reading abilities on his side, because somehow he always knows when to intervene for steaming out tension or awkwardness. “That’s for a way naughtier fantasy anyway, I guess.”

By the sound of it, he got smacked on the head this time.

Steve absolutely agrees that it is well deserved.

“So we’re all set in the bed, all close. You can feel our heartbeat, and hear our breathing,” Tony continues. “You do, right? Remember, closed eyes and imagine it right now.”

Steve feels his muscles gone lax as stress bleeds out of him just by the image of this peaceful setting. “Yeah,” he murmurs.

“I can’t stay like this long, though, you know me, so I start to play with your hair in, like, ten seconds,” Tony adds. “In my defence, you have beautiful hair, and I like to comb my fingers through it, sue me.”

“I don’t have any problems with staying still and just enjoying the moment,” Bucky’s voice clearly tells he’s smiling. “I’ll just hold your hand.” After a heartbeat’s pause, he adds a bit hastily, “not restraining though.”

“I’ll do the talking, as usual. You always left that to me anyways. Not complaining, I totally love that you listen to me even when it seems like you don’t. Or that you actually tell me when I have to shut up. Most people are too afraid of losing the grace of the billionaire to shut me up, so I appreciate the ones who aren’t. Are you sure you don’t want some background music? How could you fossils even live before portable music? You are the real cryptids, not Bigfoot or Nessie.”

Steve gives up being composed and laughs out loud. “Believe it or not, we listened to our thoughts. I recommend it to you too sometimes.”

“Excuse me, Capsicle, I live off of my thoughts. Our boyfriend’s arm would be a piece of junk otherwise, not counting the fact that SHIELD found you with the help of Stark Tech, too.”

“And for that, I’m really grateful,” Steve admits in all honesty. He wanted to die after the first shock of being in the 21st century, but he wouldn’t barter this time and his place in it for anything by now.

“Don’t expect me to thank you, Mechanic, I’ve kidnapped you for that exact work!” Bucky grumbles again.

“Yeah yeah yeah, it’s always the kidnapping and stuff with you. You could at least, be a polite assassin!”

“I’m not polite,” Bucky fusses and switches the topic back. “How do you feel, Steve?”

“Better,” Steve says, and it’s absolutely true. “I can’t wait to go home and make this fantasy into reality, though.” Again, he feels himself blushing by the mere thought of it.

“As soon as possible. The moment you step your foot in here, you’ll be carried to the bedroom and we won’t let you go,” Bucky promises.

“We’ll lock the doors and tell Romanoff to bring snacks to us.”

“No way,” Steve recoils, taken aback. “I value my life, Tony.”

“Okay, then we’ll tell Barton. If he’s here at the time. He’ll eat half of it during delivery, but won’t mind the task. Or Bruce, if we can convince him to come out of his lab. He’s been playing down there like an excited kid since he’s here. I think he had science withdrawal while on the run and we’re experiencing the symptoms now.”

“Butterfingers will be on snack duty,” Bucky interrupts, and it results in a moment of silence.

“Well, sometimes you’re the clever one among us,” Tony has to admit.

“Since you don’t love me for my dashing looks, I have to be.” Bucky’s tone is drier than the desert.

“If he’s good-looking and you’re clever, what’s left for me?” Steve complains.

“You’re the entertainment,” Tony answers instantly.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re the ‘stupidly brave and recklessly kind’ type,” Bucky adds, turning the joke into seriousness without effort. “And I’m the bad guy to remind everyone that we’re running out of time.”

Steve’s heart sinks, but he sighs and nods. “I guess we had more than usual anyway.”

“Just a little bit,” Tony admits, not elaborating what did he do to achieve this feat. “You should sit back like you were when we started and draw a bit so it won’t be suspicious, but they’re just as clueless as ever, I can promise.”

“Steve,” Bucky says, sudden urge in his voice, “if it takes much longer, I’ll break you out.”

“That’s not the plan, Buck.”

“Fuck the plan. If they do this to you for much longer, you can expect a visit from the Winter Soldier. I’ve already kidnapped one of my boyfriends. It’s only fair if I do so with the other one as well.”

Steve tries to swallow back the sudden lump in his throat and does his best not to let tears overflow. “Okay,” he takes a deep breath. “Okay. If it takes much longer, I’ll expect you.”

“Until then, hang on. We’re waiting for you here at home, Steve,” Tony says, and the warmth in his voice  is overwhelming.

“Radio silence for the next twelve hours,” Bucky announces, but instead of the abrupt muteness, Steve still hears his steady, easy breathing.

They never cut the comms completely, not since Steve’s first dissociation up here alone. One of his boyfriends are always at the end of the line, silent companion in the isolation, careful not to talk and startle him somehow out of their planned sessions, but there.

Steve curls back to his original position, pencil at hand and paper in front of him, just the right angle to cover the drawing.

“Home,” he whispers and smiles.

Yeah. He’d go home soon.

[junker-town]

Sharife Cooper is the 2021 NBA Draft’s Point God in training

How Sharife Cooper grew into the 2021 NBA Draft’s most electric playmaker.

Sharife Cooper spent the longest 72 days of his life wondering when he’d finally be able to get back on the basketball court. He had just started playing five-on-five again upon arriving at Auburn after being locked out of gyms as the pandemic swept through the country in the months following his legendary high school career. Now days before the Tigers were set to open the season, he got word the NCAA was investigating his eligibility.

Cooper sat on the sideline unable to practice as his teammates beat St. Joe’s in overtime in the opener and then got blown out by Gonzaga in a showcase game the next day. A month went by and he was still in the dark. As the calendar flipped to 2021 and Auburn began SEC play, Cooper wondered if he’d ever be cleared. Hours before Auburn was set to host Alabama, the message he was waiting for finally came through: Cooper was eligible to make his college debut.

“When I got to college, I got off to a good start, practice was flowing, and then I happened to be ineligible for something that was far out of my control,” Cooper told SB Nation. “That put a huge stop in my progress. But I think I made the most out of it.”

Cooper still hadn’t practiced, and was told he should only expect to play about 10 minutes. Instead, it became immediately evident the Tigers couldn’t afford to take him off the floor. Cooper shredded the nation’s No. 3 defense in the pick-and-roll, completed four beautiful alley-oop passes, and consistently forced his way to the foul line.

He ended the game with 26 points, nine assists, and a slew of highlight reel plays that put his incredible playmaking gifts on full display in a narrow Auburn loss. A long layoff, an elite opponent, and zero time to build chemistry with his teammates didn’t matter: Cooper still proved he could be the most dynamic creator in the country from day one.

Cooper’s college career came and went like a shooting star. He packed four years of highlights into 12 games, and ran up gaudy numbers on a young team with zero returning starters from the year before. He ended the season as one of only two freshmen in the past 30 years to average 20 points and eight assists per game, with the other being Trae Young. His 51.5 percent assist rate would have led America if he played enough games. He would have finished second in the country in fouls draw per 40 minutes if he qualified for the leaderboard.

While impressive, Cooper’s statistical profile also failed to capture the breathtaking nature of his game. This is a young point guard who plays with a raw electricity that can’t be measured. Cooper bent defenses off the dribble and broke them with his passing. His blazing quick first-step and endless combination of dribble crossovers put opposing guards into a blender all season. His panoramic vision and remarkable touch with either hand makes him an elite passer off the dribble against any competition. He seems to think a step ahead of the defense’s next adjustment, daring them with lobs to the rim and skips to the corner that feel more audacious with each attempt.

Cooper did it all while being the smallest guy on the court in almost every game he played. After one truncated year at Auburn, he’s now off to the 2021 NBA Draft. At 6’1 and 180 pounds, Cooper will immediately be one of the smaller players in the league. He also might already be one of its shiftiest ball handlers and most talented live dribble passers, too.

“I’ve played against 7-foot guys all my life,” Cooper said. “I don’t feel like it will be that much of a difference.”

Discount Cooper because of his size at your own peril. He’s been in complete control of almost every game from the moment he started in the sport.

Arden Barnes-USA TODAY Sports

Omar Cooper Sr. never had trouble finding a team for his daughter Te’a, who was recognized as one of the best players in the country from a young age and currently plays for the WNBA’s Los Angeles Sparks. Sharife was a different story. When he wasn’t competing against his twin brother Omar Jr. at the house, Sharife and his friend from down the street would pile into his dad’s car trying to find an AAU program that would take them.

Cooper took the boys to tryout after tryout around Atlanta, but they kept getting rejected by programs that already had their rosters in place. Little did they know Cooper was bringing two future NBA players with him to each stop: Sharife’s friend, one year ahead of him in school, was current Cleveland Cavaliers forward Isaac Okoro.

The elder Cooper instead coached the boys in a local rec league with other kids from the neighborhood. During halftime of a local All-Star Game, the upstart coach got desperate. Down 18 at the break to a team that featured a young Anthony ‘Ant-Man’ Edwards, Cooper issued an ultimatum.

“I told them if they win the game, I would start an AAU program with this team,” Cooper Sr. said. “They came back and won the game. I had to honor my word. That’s how Athletes of Tomorrow got started.”

Sharife and his friends finally had their own team. The majority of the group would stick together throughout their youth careers and into high school by enrolling at McEachern High. McEachern had never won a state championship when Sharife enrolled but it quickly became apparent the Powder Springs, GA school suddenly had a pair of special talents on their hands.

With Cooper at point guard and Okoro as an athletic wing who shined on the defensive end, McEachern quickly turned into an area powerhouse. In Cooper’s freshman year, with Okoro as a sophomore, McEachern didn’t suffer its first loss of the season until the Final Four of the state playoffs. The next year, the team ran up another gaudy record but was upset in the state quarterfinals. After each season, Cooper, Okoro, and most of their teammates would head to the prestigious Nike EYBL circuit playing for the same team Cooper’s father started back when they were children.

Eight of the players on Athletes of Tomorrow were from McEachern. One of the only imports was Brandon Boston Jr., a product of nearby Norcross High, who would eventually attend Kentucky as a consensus top-five recruit and possible first round pick in the 2021 NBA Draft. Atlanta’s recent basketball lineage — Jaylen Brown, Collin Sexton, and Edwards included — was suddenly getting a big boost from the same kids the rest of the city passed on.

Cooper had his coming out party on the national level after the sophomore season that ended in disappointment. He tore up the EYBL by averaging 28.2 points and 8.6 assists per game, a pair of a league-leading numbers that earned him EYBL Offensive Player of the Year honors. Suddenly, Cooper was a no doubt five-star with a growing list of offers from every important college basketball program in America.

Okoro gave his commitment to Auburn ahead of the next season to set the scene for his final year in high school. With Cooper now a junior and a talented cast of teammates maturing around them, something special was brewing at McEachern. Anything less than a state title was going to be considered a disappointment.

Despite massive expectations on their shoulders, McEachern was flawless. They beat prep powerhouses on the national level including Nevada’s Findlay Prep, Kansas’ Sunrise Christian, and California’s Rancho Christian on a team that featured Evan and Isaiah Mobley. The Indians also dominated locally. The school finished a perfect season at 32-0 in the state championship game with Cooper scoring 20 points and Okoro chipping in 16 points. McEachern had its first title.

Cooper and Okoro complemented each other perfectly as teammates, but it was the long hours guarding each other in practice that took each of their games to the next level. Okoro was the 6’6 wing with immense strength who was arguably the best defensive prospect in the country. Cooper was the tiny playmaker who kept the ball on a string, threw every pass, and consistently found a way to score. Each day, they went at each other to hone with own unique talents.

“That’s the only person that would guard me at practice,” Cooper said of Okoro. “Me and him would go at it every single day. That helped me a lot. That’s the best defender I’ve ever gone up against. Going up against someone like that gets you better.”

Cooper decided to follow Okoro once again when it was time to make his college decision. He committed to Auburn over offers from Kentucky and others. He was the highest-rated recruit in program history at the time of his commitment.

Cooper and Okoro never played together at Auburn after Okoro became a one-and-done and was eventually drafted No. 5 overall. Maybe that was the first hint Cooper’s college days would feel star-crossed and unfulfilled. If Cooper has it his way, that will only be a minor note in a much bigger story.

There are not many players in the NBA as small as Cooper. There also aren’t many who can cut up an opposing defense as ruthlessly off the dribble.

The NBA currently has 25 players listed at 6’1 or smaller by the league’s official measurements. Exactly 13 of them weigh 180 pounds or less. It’s a group that includes every walk of life in the NBA. There players on the fringes of the league (Yogi Ferrell, Mike James), change-of-pace guards who have carved out long careers off the bench (Ish Smith, Patrick Beverley), All-Star caliber starters (Kemba Walker, Mike Conley), and two players near and dear to Cooper’s heart: Chris Paul and Trae Young.

Cooper has been watching Paul in the NBA for almost his entire life — CP3 made his debut when Cooper was four years old — and credits him for helping ‘build (his) basketball mind.’ Young is more a recent favorite who followed a similar path. Both were McDonald’s All-Americans ranked outside of the top-15 in their class who rejected offers from Kentucky and other blue bloods to stay in-state before becoming a one-and-done. While Young was a freshman phenom at Oklahoma who made daily appearances on ESPN, Cooper’s long eligibility battle stopped the hype before it started.

“I feel like my whole life has revolved around basketball for so long,” Cooper said. “Whether it was playing it, watching it, or playing 2K. That’s where my basketball IQ comes from. I recognize how much thinking the game goes into it. Thinking the game is what separates good from great.”

Paul and Young each had one notable advantage over Cooper when they entered the draft: both were considered dangerous shooters. That’s still something Cooper is still looking to prove after shooting only 13-of-57 (22.8 percent) from three-point range at Auburn.

Cooper certainly isn’t lacking confidence in his shooting stroke. He was excellent from the foul line, making 82.5 percent of his free throws. There were moments when he hit nasty step-back threes, and even a few contested spot-ups. Those around him said it seemed like he didn’t have his legs under him early in the season after the long NCAA investigation kept him off the practice floor.

“I’ve always been able to shoot,” Cooper said. “I didn’t shoot it well this year, but when you come off almost a year and a half of not playing five-on-five basketball, it was tough for me to make that adjustment. I’ve proven a lot of people wrong in these workouts, and the combine. It’s going to be a long process, and I’m fine with getting it the hard way.”

If Cooper’s size and shooting are obvious shortcomings from a scouting perspective, his strengths are equally pronounced. His standstill burst and live dribble passing grade out extremely well on any scale. He sees angles other point guards would miss, and plays with a unique rhythm to his game that allows him to capitalize on his immaculate vision. For now, his best avenue for scoring the ball might be forcing his way to the foul line. He has the deception to beat his man off the dribble and fool a defender into fouling him around the basket.

Cooper may be small, but he’s never been afraid of contact.

“Growing up, I never played with fouls,” Cooper said. “We’ll play five-on-five and you can’t call a foul. I just got used to contact. I feel like the contact I get all the time in practice helps me go through it in games.”

Given his immense production during his short college career, it certainly doesn’t feel like a stretch to think there’s an alternate timeline where Cooper became a college basketball hero not dissimilar to Young at Oklahoma. Unfortunately, he was the victim of an NCAA investigation and postseason tournament ban that were completely outside of his control.

Instead, Cooper enters this draft as something of a high-upside swing in the mid-to-late first round. Every NBA team needs shot creation, and Cooper has a case that he offers more of it than any player in the class aside from presumptive top pick Cade Cunningham. Omar Cooper Sr. will represent him as the founder of LifeStyle Sports Agency, just as he represents Okoro and his daughter Te’a.

Top NBA prospects aren’t born overnight when they walk onto a college campus. Cooper has a body of work that includes spectacular offensive production and winning at a high level over the course of multiple years. His lack of size shouldn’t be so scary to a league that just watched Paul and Young thrive in the playoffs.

Cooper’s long wait is finally about over. He can’t wait to show you what comes next.

[wolfeyeslonelynights]

The Punisher Au drabble dabble

“Is this what you came back from Hell for? For fucking revenge? Is that what you think this is what you’re about now?  Because  I -“

Theo tuned out the young man next to him, a twenty something newbie at some small newspaper, was practically jogging trying to keep up with him. He hadn’t expected the kid to peel away from the crowd around the crime scene, blue eye sparking as they met his. He had quickened his steps just a little - not enough to draw attention and apparently not enough to keep this eager puppy from catching up. Dark hair falling over his forehead in a forgotten mess, blue eyes wide with an odd mix of anger and burning curiosity, he hadn’t even asked who Theo was; just started in on the fucking questions.

“This shouldn’t be your life now you know?”

Theo waited until they turned into an alley - feeling a strange sense of panic at the fact that the younger guy hadn’t notice he was being led away from the publics eye and safety. As soon as they had gone a dozen steps he rounded on the handsome guy. A ignored clatter as the small notebook fell from the reporters hand from Theo gripping his wrist against the wall hard in his. There was a small gasp as chest pressed together. There wasn’t a goddam lick of fear in the asshole eyes.

Theo flashed otherworldly eyes - knowing when the guy saw the glow of too bright amber. Still no fear and he had just about enough of this bullshi-

“You’re like me?”

Then..then Theo was leaning back, loosening his grip as the kid flash brilliant gold back at him. Well this changed his plans in a minimal way, but now he was the one with the curiosity. Stupid kid spoke before he could even open his mouth.

“If you’re a werewolf and you are who I think you are, which would The Punisher…a terrible name by the way but we can come back to that. Anyway how can your eyes still be yellow if you’ve killed people? Because the only way I know you can keep that color is it you don’t kill people. Right? That’s what my alpha -“

Theo let go of one hand to slam his fist next to the pretty face in front of him.That shut him up but didn’t stop the narrowing of eyes. He was kind of wondering why the other wolf wasn’t shoving him up and away from his space.

He ignored the slight pleasure of being so close.

“You always talk this fucking much kid?”

The reporter shoved him away at that, finally, showing some fucking self-preservation although it seemed more anger. Theo let him, taking steps back as the young man pent to pick up his notebook and pen. Who uses those anymore? Wasn’t recording and cellphones the thing now instead of something so old school. “Fuck off it’s what I do for a living.”

There was a brief reprise as Theo simply stared at him while the guy straighten out his clothes. It was kind of irritating that he didn’t fix his hair. Curling his fist he back stepped until he was leaning against the opposite wall.

“What the hell do you want kid?”

This was met with a serious blue gaze and he felt a zing at the intensity.

“Well for starters, why is a werewolf who was publicly known to have been dead for over a year suddenly showing up and taking out every gang or mafia connection possible?”

Suddenly exhaustion was weighing Theo down. It had been a long night and the Wendigo’s had been a particularly hungry bunch. He was injured and wanted to sit down. And maybe he was a little lonely because the kid was right, he had been dead for over a year and the return had been one hell of a roller coaster. It took a few moments, him chewing this lip while the gaze never wavered before Theo made a decision he knew he was going to regret.

Pushing off the wall he started back down the alley, slower so that the punk could catch up.

“If I tell you, will you publish the truth?”

There was a slight pause then:

“What the fuck do you think I write? Bullshit? That is not why I became a reporter.”

Theo shrugged. “I don’t read the papers really so I wouldn’t know.”

This caused a ridiculous amount of sputtering before his path was blocked by the puppy again.

“I am Liam Dunbar of the McCall Paper you piece of shit so why don-“

Theo didn’t hear the rest, his vision leeching away as the ground made an appearance in front of his face. The world went black.

……………….

Theo returned to the world to the words “Holy shit he was a heavy motherfucker.”

Groaning he rolled onto his side, or that was the plan because what happened was he rolled and kept going. Falling off of something and onto his face and injured shoulder.

“Fuck are you okay?”

Squinting one eye open he saw a new face, dammit, peering down at him. This was dark skinned kid with friendly eyes and a currently worried face. Theo tried to fight down the vague sense of panic that his world was going to be turn upside down.

Or it might be that he was going to puke.

Struggling up as his stomach roiled he croaked out a “Bathroom.” There was a mutter curse, a muffled shout of “he’s gonna blow” before warm strong arms wrapped around his chest and hauled his ass to a small bathroom. His head clanked painfully against the toilet bowl.

“Fuck, fuck sorry we’re too big to both fit in here.”

Theo did’t care just pushed up and over as his stomach started its revolt. His world narrowed to the sour taste and heaving until he was plastered between the toilet and tub. If he had energy he would have moved, tried to look intimidating but instead he was trying to curl his sweaty body about the cold porcelain. Someone placed a cold washcloth on the back of his neck and he groaned

“Guys he’s still alive!”

Flinching at the quiet shout Theo mustered the strength to kick a foot at the bastard while cracking a lid to glare single eye. Liam grinned unrepentant at him while switching the washcloth out with a new one. They stayed that way for a quiet moment, Theo taking the time to let his body decide if it was ready to play nice or not, before he tried to speak.

Liam beat him to it, go fucking figure, rushing in a very rapid whisper.

“I told my roommates that I saw you get beat up so don’t worry your stupidly named identity is safe but when I dropped you on the couch you kind of flashed eyes so they know your a little wolf although that should be safe since they are used to it and in fact Corey is a hybrid as well.”

This caught Theo’s attention. “As well?” He started to push himself up, slapping away the helping hand and glaring when Liam tried to help. He ignored the responding scowl.

“Well yeah, I can smell that you aren’t completely wolf. I didn’t at first because I try not to pry but well carrying you over my shoulder I noticed you got a different scent. Don’t worry it smells good but..different. Corey confirmed although he is different too. So what are you mixed with?”

Monsters was what Theo wanted to say but dragging himself up on the lip of the tub and seeing the open gaze waiting on him, he held it back.

“Coyote.”

He waited for the inevitably barrage of questions but instead got a thoughtful nod. Wait, he smelled good? Jesus that wasn’t what he needed to focus on. Slowly stretching himself out he took in the taxi colored bathroom and the two other shadows hovering out of sight of the doorway. It didn’t fail his notice that Liam was crouched in the middle of the way. Natural protector for a talkative little shit.

“Where am I?”

This had a head poking around the doorway, causing a surprising deep growl from Liam as Theo’s zeroed in on who had to be the other chimera. The pale face and wide eyes were effectively blocked as Liam moved into his path - the blue eyes finally shutting down as the threat Theo should have always been seen as kicked in. It was an attractive look on that face but he felt a twinge of guilt.

“You are in my home and anyone who is in my home is under my protection. Got it?” It was a low gravelly threat and Theo couldn’t help the small snarl that loosen his lips before his hand slipped on the tub and he tumbled backwards with a painful thud.

“Fucking aye!”

It broke the tension though, as Liam laughed out loud, arms dropping from the stand off position to reach forward to yank Theo out of the bathtub. He nose crinkling surprisingly delicately.

“So I know we just met and this might be crazy rude but…you stink.”

Theo’s hackles raised but before he could snarl the dark skinned man was pushing his way into the already too crowded bathroom.

“Liam, man, stop. Hi I’m Mason and if you want I think I have some spare clothes that would fit,” he gesture to the tub and shower behind Theo, “why don’t you take a shower and then we can eat and talk?”

He must have seen the absolute refusal on Theo’s face because Liam spoke up too.

“Look, we know people, and this place has…precautions around it so nothing can come in out without us knowing so don’t worry you’re safe okay? Take your time.”

Then before he couldn’t do more than grunt they were rapidly backpedaling, the Mason kid gabbing the door to close as they left. When it clicked he let his shoulder droop.

How the hell did he get into this situation?

It was a far drop from the bathroom window that rattled his bones painfully but Theo considered it a success as he limped away from the building. It was in a sorta nice part of town - one of those places in a city that felt more like purgatory then heaven or hell. Bad things happened at night but generally not during the day. It was interesting that the puppy said the building had some kind of protection. He hoped it did.

He oddly hope he didn’t bleed on their couch too much either.

Grunting he started into the night. It had been a mistake to let the reporter follow. It was bad news to make connections like that. But damn it had been kind of nice to talk to someone that wasn’t actively trying to decapitate him. Well, listen to someone talk at least because the puppy sure as fuck didn’t let him get a word in otherwise.

He chuckled quietly.

Damn it had been a long night and he was exhausted.

…….

Theo hadn’t expected to see the puppy again - their locations weren’t even remotely close to each other. Here the reporter was though; looking all butt hurt as he folded his arms over his chest and glared at Theo.

For his part, having literally just crashed a Kanima drug deal, he was a bit blind sided that the young werewolf was waiting for him at the end of the block.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

This was greeted with a sucker punch to Theo’s face sending him backwards a couple feet. Holy shit kid could hit!

“Who the hell jumps out of a third story window like some kind of James Bond?”

Theo responded by punching Liam back, snarling in his face.

“Someone trying to save your life!”

Liam’s eyes were yellow now, sharpened teeth poking out of his mouth as he panted. It was a pretty crazy reaction to one punch and Theo briefly wondered if the kid was not as in control as he appeared in the alley. It didn’t matter though, he could hear a couple Kanima’s trying to sneak up behind. Sighing, he grabbed the angry wolf’s hand and started running.

“What do you think you’re doing asshole?”

Theo snarled and yanked him faster forward.

“Saving your life!”

Then the hissing of scales and teeth reached the younger’s ears because suddenly he was yanking Theo forward with a painfully tight grip on his hand. Theo caught a flash of blue.

“Don’t worry I know a place!”

He was going to get them killed.

..

“Why am I not surprised this was ‘your place’?”

Liam glared as he closed the curtains to his office. Like blocking out the windows was going to make a difference. Theo instead leaned against the wall and pushed it as leverage to kicked the small couch against the door. The crash caused the young wolf to jump before he scowled.

“Really? Was that necessary?”

Theo shrugged, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it to the other. Liam caught it easily but instead of putting it on he frowned at the chimera.

“What is this for?”

Rolling his eyes, Theo busied himself with checking the few weapons he had on him.

“For our midnight stroll through the park. It’s for protection dumbass, the kanima’s are already in the building and that jacket is thick so hopefully it’ll help you not get paralyzed.” He paused thoughtfully before continuing “Although you not being able to talk might be nice.”

“Ah piss off ..hey I never got your name.”

Theo remained stubborn, eyes on the door, refusing to answer. It lasted ten second before Liam stood in his vision - a short angry werewolf wearing his special coat.

“Nope, not getting out of it this time dickhead. I’m Liam, you are?”

Theo was already shaking his head, trying to nudge him out of the path of danger.

“Safer not knowing - things that know my name tend to end up dead.”

When Liam remained stubbornly in his way Theo growled and shove shoved him out of the way. This was responded with a punch to the nose. He wiped the blood away and glared murderously.

“Dammit! Let me just tell you asshole I have been in my share of fights - human and supernatural - and I am more than capable of taking care of myself -“

A slam against the door had them turning together - shoulders a breathe away from each other. Theo grounded his teeth at the current situation. One he had promised to never let happen again. He didn’t have time to push the other werewolf behind him before the door was yanked out of it’s place. Liam let out a choked laugh.

“Guess the couch didn’t help.”

Then two Kanima’s were crawling on the walls into the room; each going a different way. The werewolves turns with them, backs pressing together and Theo tried not to let it feel right.

……

“I’m taking you home.”

“Is that a proposition puppy?”

This resulting in Theo being dropped to the ground before Liam was hauling him up again. The beta’s expression bland.

“Oops.”

Theo wanted to snarl but being paralyzed was making his rough whisper hard enough as it is. They stumbled along the street, appearing as too overly drunk people to others, as Liam took all of Theo’s weight. If he wasn’t so pissed he would be impressed at the show of strength.

“Why did you take that hit anyway? It was aimed at me.”

It had been. They had been making good work of the two creatures - naturally covering the other’s blindspot and maneuvering like they had been doing this for years. Theo had never worked with anyone like that - he didn’t like to work with other people period. It was exactly why he had seen the stinger coming for the other’s neck and swing around to take it in the shoulder instead.

The decision had been surprisingly easy; what surprised him was the unfiltered rage it had caused the other wolf. Who had then taken care of the remaining creature with horrifying efficiency. For a moment Theo had wondered who was the real monster. His thoughts just have been running similar to Liams because the puppy spoke with a quiet hesitance.

“I have a control issue.”

Yeah, Theo could see that. Just as he could see the pained expression on the beta’s face from the corner of his vision. He fought an internal struggle for a moment before whispering.

“Theo.”

Blue eyes blinked at him. Theo swallowed thickly.

“My name is Theo.”

And the smile that he was rewarded with was worth it.

“Theo I am taking you home - where you will eat and shower and sleep and yes, I will punch you if you say no.”

“No.”

The smile was replaced with the scowl again but Theo spoke before him - for once.

“They will target your home - We go to mine but get a cab it’s in the low side.”

There was no hesitation in Liam’s movements at the mention of going to the low side, instead the jerk smile again and dropped him against a garbage can to hail down a taxi.

“Asshole.”

The answering grin was almost too bright.

……

There was too much chaos, too much blood, and Theo had to get Liam out of here.

“Puppy!”

If they had been at his dingy home, Theo would have grinned at the promise of violence in the beta’s eyes. Their routine, and damn it near killed him to admit that, over the last few months was generally:

Theo finding a gang to ruin or destroy - generally getting injured in multiple ways Liam hunting him down - Theo was convinced it was by his “good” scent but Liam is surprisingly staying mute on the subject. Theo getting his ass reamed while being dragged home by Liam. Liam bitching about Theo’s slower healing abilities while patching him up They argue until they crash out on the bed in exhaustion Liam leaving before Theo wakes - breakfast made and waiting for him on the chipped counter.

On the rare nights he wasn’t out hunting, Liam would still just show up like he was invited. After an argument on why he was even there - no heat in either of their voices - they would end up in a strange tangled pile of limbs on the two cushion couch. Liam called it a loveseat but Theo refused to use that title. Why the hell would anyone name furniture like that? Theo didn’t own a tv so they either used Liam’s cellphone or talked about random shit.

It was normal.

It was dangerous.

He wanted it to never end, to get better, for them to get closer. He wanted Liam to leave and never come near him again so that he stayed safe.

But right now his little puppy was too far away from him and the Ghost Riders were closing in and Theo’s stolen heart was a distracting staccato in his chest.

“Liam!”

A gun was raised and Theo’s vision bled. Suddenly his arm was around the snarling wolf’s waist, physically hauling him back and around a corner. Bullets ricochet off the walls. He shoved Liam down the hallway before throwing them both into the stairway. He didn’t wait to turn around and kick the door shut, pushing the younger wolf down the stairs at a neck break pace.

“Go! Go! What the fuck were you doing back there moron! Supernatural guns Liam!”

It was ominous how quiet the beta was, his answer the thunder of their feet on the steel stairs. Five flights later and they were pushing the exit door open and racing down the street. People’s faces were a blur as they sprinted, naturally heading to a safe place.

When the door to Theo’s home banged shut, and his protective measures in place, did he turn to tear into Liams ear just to find himself slammed against the door. The reporter was completely wolfed out, a bloody trail down his lower lip on either side from his canines. Theo had seen Liam’s explosive anger only twice and this seem different, more potent and focused.

“Puppy?”

The fist twisting his jacket tightened until the collar was cutting in Theo’s throat but he didn’t move. Instead he thought over how Liam had gotten in front of him when the attack started, how he roared and extended his claws. Then he was snarling despite the pain.

“I never wanted your help! Don’t fucking protect me!”

Liam growled and Theo opened his mouth to tell the only person he cared about to get out, to leave, to forget him and whatever they had and never come back.

Then Liam kissed him.

It wasn’t a pleasant kiss; the beta’s fangs were sharp and cut into Theo’s lips, the grip on his jacket hadn’t loosened at all. It was painful and exhilarating and he found himself kissing back. After a moment his jacket was let go so that he could step closer and wound his arms about Liams shoulders. Breaking the kiss he let Liam bury his head into his shoulder while wrapping his arms around the chimera’s back.

“You stupid son of a bitch.”

Theo pondered that post kiss reaction and decided things could be worse.

[cait-snow]

Infinity

Part Two: Orbit

Pairing: Raven x Octavia Words: 3,758 Tags: canon au, friends to lovers, slow burn Other: 2 of 5 Chap. Summary:          Octavia was drowning her, suffocating her, and Raven figured that if this was what it was like to love someone, then she didn’t want to breathe ever again. She just needed Octavia to not let her go.

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The first time Raven saw her in lockup, she looked exhausted. Her usually sleek brown hair was ratty, pulled into a loose knot at the nape of her neck. Her naturally tan skin had dimmed, becoming a greyish color, and her bright blue eyes were devoid of life, vacant of that sparkle Raven had grown to love so much. She was wearing the lockup uniform; a dark blue jumpsuit, though the upper half was wrapped around her waist and the white tank-top underneath was baggy and stained. But the thing Raven couldn’t stop staring at, the thing that made all the rage collect inside of her and begin bubbling to the surface again, was the dark purple bruise on Octavia’s right eye, sloping down to her cheek bone and fading at the beginning of her jaw.

Raven clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth. “Who the hell did that to you?” She growled, keeping her hands clasped under the table in a tight ball.

Octavia shrugged, keeping her dull gaze on the wall behind Raven rather than her face. “A guard.”

“Which one?” Raven asked through her teeth. A million images rushed through her mind, all of which consisted of Raven finding the guard and torturing them in some way before locking them in the Floating dock and pulling the lever, releasing them into the suffocating atmosphere.

Octavia shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”

Raven suppressed a whine at the girl’s words. “It does to me.” Her voice cracked on the last word and her eyes began to sting. How could Octavia think her getting hurt wouldn’t matter? Had she lost all regard for herself? Raven didn’t want this place to break her; Octavia was a free spirit, a tough girl, Raven didn’t want lockup to take that away.

Sighing, Octavia brought her elbow up on the table and propped her unbruised cheek in her palm. “It’s my fault he hit me.”

Raven furrowed her brows. “Why would you say that?”

A small smile spread on Octavia’s face. “Because I bit him.”

Raven’s eyes widened slightly. “You bit him?”

Octavia nodded, the smile ever growing into a large, sly grin. “Broke the skin. He even bled a little.” Her tone had gone from bored to excited, and suddenly all her features lit up. There was that little shine back in her eyes and Raven felt her heart clench.

Though Raven was proud of her, and damn, she absolutely was, she knew that if Octavia kept this sort of behavior up, then her chances of a good trail would diminish into nothing. She told her just that: “If you rebel like that, then it won’t go over well at your trial.”

Octavia’s face fell from humorous to serious, borderline sad, half defeated. She dropped her hand on the table and turned her palm up, motioning with her fingers for Raven to give her her hand. Hesitantly, Raven uncurled her fist and set her hand in Octavia’s, who gently squeezed her fingers. She smiled sadly, her voice low when she spoke, “Raven, we both know I won’t be getting a trail.”

“You don’t know that.” Raven’s voice was strained, desperate for it to not break completely. God, she was completely gone on Octavia Blake. When had that happened, she wondered. When had the soft spot she developed for the girl turn into a complete crush and bloom into…love. And why the hell did it take her so long to realize it? In the year that they’d gotten to know each other, there was so much wasted time with unspoken feelings.

Though, she didn’t know if Octavia felt the same way. In a way it didn’t matter to her, because Octavia was in her life and that’s all Raven needed.

At least, that’s what she would tell herself.

Because now was not the time for a love confession; now was the time to save Octavia’s life.

Octavia nodded slightly, her hand still holding Raven’s. “Yes, I do. And you do, too.”

“Is it wrong to hope?” Again there was that whine she had to strain her voice through.

“No. It’s not wrong, but it is a waste of time.” She stated bluntly, sitting back in her metal chair and crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Raven’s hand became cold from the emptiness and she wished Octavia would grab it again, that she would hold her for just a little longer. “They can’t Float me until I’m eighteen. I have a year to rebel. So that’s what I’m going to do.” The defiance was back in her eyes, making their blue hue glow. She looked beautiful, but then she always did, though now that glow Raven had seen the first night they met was surrounding her, engulfing her, and in turn, drawing Raven in deeper and deeper.

Octavia was drowning her, suffocating her, and Raven figured that if this was what it was like to love someone, then she didn’t want to breathe ever again. She just needed Octavia to not let her go.

Raven forced down the lump in her throat and quirked her lips up into a tiny smile. “Give them hell.” She whispered.

Octavia smiled back. “That’s the plan.”

“You love her.” Finn stated, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands behind his head. There was a little smug smirk on his face and Raven wanted to slap it off, but instead she just groaned and slumped back in her chair.

“I do.” She practically cried. “I don’t know when it happened, but I love her.”

“Did you tell her?” He asked aloofly.

Raven shook her head, propping her chin up in her hand. “She doesn’t feel the same way.”

Finn arched his brows high. “How could you know that if you don’t tell her how you feel?”

“It’s not the right time.” She answered, her voice muffled due to her face scrunched up in her hand.

The boy rolled his eyes at his sister’s answer. “There’s never a right time.” He leaned towards her and stared intently into her dark eyes, adding matter-of-factly, “Especially when she’s in lockup and you’re not.”

Raven narrowed her eyes, shifting away from him. “It’s just—it’s not the right time, Finn. Drop it.”

“Yeah, okay.” He muttered in that annoying sarcastic tone she hated. The way he talked to her, it was like he was a defiant child and she was his overbearing mother.

“How are you doing?” The change of subject was needed, because if they continued talking about Octavia, Raven was bound to start crying, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

Finn indulged her, answering, “Fine. Three square meals a day. Water. Sometimes they even let me have play time.” He winked.

“You’re an ass.” She rolled her eyes heavily, doing little to hide the smile quirking the corners of her lips.

“You love me.”

She shook her head but said, “Obviously.”

“Have you heard anything?” He asked, his voice suddenly serious. Raven’s face fell, she knew exactly what he was talking about: the oxygen. The three-month supply that she let into the atmosphere, that she wasted because she wanted to see the stars a little more closely. A mistake she made that Finn gladly and encouragingly took the blame for.

She’d never be able to repay him, though he wouldn’t accept it if she did.

“That’s what family’s for. That’s what family does.” He’d said the first time she came to see him in lockup, and put the end to the conversation, though it didn’t put the end to her guilt. She would feel that every day.

“No.” She finally answered after pulling herself from her self-loathing thoughts. “They wouldn’t tell me, anyway.”

“You’re the zero-g mechanic of the Ark; isn’t it required for them to tell you those things?”

Raven shrugged, her shoulders suddenly heavy. “I’m nineteen; I don’t have the clearance. They don’t have to tell me shit. They don’t tell me shit. Speaking of, I have to get to work.” That was a lie; she didn’t have to go to work, she was meeting Bellamy. Ever since Octavia was put in a cell, they’d been trying to get her out. So far, they had nothing, but Raven knew that the more they tried, sooner or later they would have something.

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. It’s the only way she was able to sleep at night.

Finn didn’t chide her with more questions, instead he nodded and sighed, “See you in two weeks.”

She stood, rolling things over in her mind. Octavia was going to rebel, she was going to fight, and she was bound to get herself killed too soon if she kept it up. Raven couldn’t do anything, neither could Bellamy, damn it all, but maybe… “Try to look out for her, okay? I know it’s hard to do while being in a cell, but just…” She trailed off, biting her lip.

He flashed her a reassuring smile. “I will, Raven.”

“Thanks.” She exhaled in relief, then made her way to the door.

“Go kick ass.”

“Always.”

“Hey, Rae,” He called as her hand rested on the silver knob. She didn’t turn to him, but waited for him to speak. “It’s gonna be okay.” And he really believed it. That was Finn, ever the optimist.

“Yeah.” She nodded, then left.

She wanted to believe it, more than anything, she wanted things to be okay.

But they weren’t and they wouldn’t be.

Because Raven was a realist, and she knew the truth of the situation.

Everything was going to hell and she had a first class ticket to watch it burn.

Raven met Bellamy in Mecha Station a few minutes later. Their talking and strategizing quickly turned into a heated argument within ten minutes, as it always did. They kept their voices to harsh whispers so they would go unnoticed.

“We have to do something.” She strained her voice to keep it low, a shout nearly breaking through.

He raised his arms in the air, defeat wearing thick lines on his face. “What can we do?”

“Break her out. I can sneak into the control room and open her cell door. Shut out all the lights and…” They’d been over that plan before; it was useless. But what else did they have? Nothing. They had nothing. Weeks of trying, and they were empty.

“And where would she go? Back under the floor?”

“We could hide her somewhere in the Ark.”

“There’s nowhere to hide, Raven!” He rose a few octaves, and he was nearly towering over her; she could see the vein pulsing in his neck. “There’s nowhere she can go.”

But she didn’t back down. “So, what, we’re just going to give up? You’re going to let your sister get Floated on her eighteenth birthday?” They were chest to chest, their nostrils flaring, their eyes slanted in hate, their breaths coming out in aggravated little huffs.

Bellamy stared at her, jaw clenched so tight she thought his teeth might break. “There’s nothing I can do. They’ve demoted me. They’ve taken away what little power I had. And what can you do? You’re just a mechanic.” He spat the word as if it was an insult.

Raven laughed humorlessly. “I’m the youngest zero-g mechanic in 52 years; there’s a lot I can do, Bellamy. Most of it’s not legal, but I can do it.”

He sighed heavily, taking a few steps away from her and rubbing his temples with one hand while the other rested on his hip. When he looked back up at her, all the malice had dissolved from his features, leaving him looking tired and wan. “Don’t—just, don’t do anything. Don’t do anything, Raven.” His voice was low, his tone exasperated. Staring at him then, he looked as if he’d aged thirty years.

But she was hurting, too. With watery eyes, she asked, “Do you expect me to just go about my regular day to day life while Octavia sits in that cell?”

“Yes, I do.” He answered simply.

“Bellamy!” She exclaimed in desperation, her voice high.

“Don’t do anything, Raven!” He shouted back, trying to get his point across.

She stared at him for a few seconds, confusion settling over her, but then, when she saw the glint in his eyes, she knew. “You’re going to do something.” She stated, crossing her arms.

He shrugged heavily. “There’s nothing I can do.”

“But you’re going to do something.” She didn’t let up, because this was Bellamy and that was his sister, and she knew he wouldn’t let her go without a fight to the death. His death, if it meant that.

He shook his head, turning and beginning to walk away from her. “I have to get back to work.”

“Bellamy,” She called after him, her voice cracking. She didn’t want this to be over. She didn’t want to give up. If he was going to do something, then she wanted to be a part of it, too. She was useful, she was a genius. She could do anything. He needed her. And he knew that she cared for Octavia and didn’t care about the consequences of getting caught trying to save her.

So, then why was he excluding her?

“Go to work, Raven.” He called behind his back, and then disappeared around a corner, leaving her alone in their little nook of the hallway.

“Bastard.” She hissed under her breath, and watched until the man was out of sight before she grabbed a wrench and chucked it across the hallway. It clanked against the metal wall, disappearing behind some boxes. Raven inhaled and exhaled rapidly, breathing in deeply through her nose and harshly out through her mouth. She grabbed her head and paced around the floor a few times, her whole world spinning, her mind a fucking mess.

She was helpless. She was completely helpless. The girl she loved was going to die. She was going to die and there was nothing Raven could fucking do about it.

At least Finn had a chance, but Octavia? There was no way. There was no way.

Letting a strangled cry escape her mouth, Raven slid down the wall and held her knees tightly to her chest. She buried her head in her knees, biting her tongue and squeezing her eyes shut so tight she saw bright orbs behind the darkness. Her whole body shook, from fear and anger and hopelessness.

And finally, she cried.

The high screeching of the Ark alarms awoke her a few nights later. She jumped out of bed and went to her door, flinging it open to see a horde of guards running past her, down the hallway. “What happened?” She shouted over the sound.

“The Chancellor has been shot.” Someone shouted back from the group.

That was the last time she saw Bellamy Blake on the Ark.

“What do you mean they’re gone?” She snarled, rage contorting her features.

Abby looked her in the eyes and stated a little reluctantly, “The hundred delinquents have been sent to earth.”

Now, she was utterly alone.

Abby approached her the next day, her palms up in a truce. Raven stood tall, crossing her arms over her chest and gripping the wrench in her hand tightly. “What do you want?” She questioned, her tone unwelcoming, her jaw set tight.

“I need your help.” Abby said, the urgency in her voice making Raven’s interest heighten.

“With?” She asked, keeping her voice neutral, trying to not show interest.

Abby disregarded the question, and instead said, “They’re alive.” And it was like the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders.

“Is Finn okay? Is Octavia?” Raven asked, her mind racing with all the possibilities. Earth was safe. The hundred made it to the ground alive. Alive. Alive. Alive.

“They’re taking off their tracking bracelets and we have no other means of communication with them.” Abby avoided the question.

Raven furrowed her brows. “What does that have to do with me?”

Abby smiled. “You’re the youngest zero-g mechanic in fifty years.”

“Fifty-two.” Raven corrected.

The woman nodded considerably. “Follow me,” She turned and motioned for Raven to walk after her, which she did, because curiosity had gotten the better of her and Raven needed to know if Finn and Octavia were okay. If they were alive.

Abby took her down to the restricted artifacts area of the Ark. While it was in Mecha Station, Raven had never been in the room; she didn’t have the clearance. She stood in awe in the doorway, eyes scanning over all the trinkets and books that she couldn’t touch. The books. What a waste for them to be down there, locked up where no one could read them. Raven wondered what secrets they held.

Snapping out of her curiosity about the unknown, Raven shifted her eyes back to Abby, who was beside a large mass covered by a tan tarp. She was about to ask what they were doing down there, when Abby grabbed the cover and yanked it from the mass, revealing an ancient, rusted pod.

“Whoa,” Raven uttered under her breath, eyes wide. She dropped her arms to her sides and approached the pod, running her fingers over its bumpy surface. “How old is it?” She wondered out loud.

“A hundred and thirty years old.” Abby answered.

Raven looked up at her. “No shit.” She mumbled in astonishment.

“Can you get it running?”

Raven shrugged but nodded as she continued to examine the pod. “It’ll take me a few weeks.”

“You have two days.”

She froze, looking up at the woman again, eyebrows raised. “Are you serious? For what?”

Abby hesitated, then explained, “The Ark is dying. I have ten days to prove that earth is survivable or else we have to reduce the population by three-hundred and twenty people.”

“How…would you do that?” But she knew the answer: sacrifice. Sacrifice three-hundred and twenty people in order to keep oxygen rotating through the Ark. It was evil. Evil and inhumane and Raven couldn’t believe people were like that. Nineteen years on the Ark, and it still horrified her what people would do in order to survive.

“What do you need me for?” Raven finally asked.

“You take this escape pod, you get to earth. You find a way to contact us.” Abby made it sound so simple, but it was far from it. She wanted Raven to reassemble an ancient pod in two days and hope that it got her down to earth. It was a suicide mission. Seeing the hesitance and unsureness in Raven’s face, Abby placed her hands on Raven’s shoulders and added, “You’re the smartest person on the Ark, Raven. If anyone can fix the communication down there to transmit up here, it’s you.” Her voice was urgent and the look in her eyes was pleading. Raven knew Abby’s daughter, Clarke was on the ground, so this was about more than the Ark; this was about her kid.

Yet here this opportunity was for Raven to get down to the ground, get down to Octavia and Finn, and hell, even Bellamy, but she was hesitating because she was scared.

Suck it up. She commanded herself. This is the chance you wanted. This is the break you needed. This is it. This is all you’re going to get. She made eye contact with Abby and said confidently, “I’ll need supplies.”

Exhaling in relief, Abby nodded. “Whatever you need.”

She looked past the woman, back to the beaten up pod. A twinge of anxiety pulsed through her, but she pushed it down.

I can do this.

And of course she could. She was Raven Reyes; she could do anything.

She worked until her fingers bled, and then she worked some more. Sleep was not necessary; the thought of being reunited with the people she loved—Bellamy too, even though they left on a less-than-positive note—kept her alert.

By the time the second morning rolled around, her hands were numb and her brain was floating, the need for rest finally settling in. Her eyes were heavy and all she wanted to do was crawl into the tiny pod and sleep for a few weeks.

“It’s time!” She shot up, eyes wide when she heard Abby rush into the room and lock down the door behind her. She punched a few numbers on the key pad and the door locked in place, cemented closed to anyone who was on the outside.

“What’s going on?” Raven asked, pulling her space suit over her clothes hurriedly.

Abby shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Just get to the ground. Find the kids. Find Clarke, Octavia, and Finn. And find a way to contact the Ark from the ground.” She placed the astronaut helmet on Raven’s head, securing it in place so that it was air tight, then slipped a piece of paper in her hands.

Raven wrapped her arms around the woman. “Thank you, Abby.” It would be the last time she saw her, she supposed.

Abby hugged her back, tightly, briefly, then pushed her away as a loud banging sounded at the metal door. “Go. Now.” Raven got into the pod as Abby went to the right side of the wall and placed her hand on the lever that would open the window on wall behind Raven and propel her into space.

Raven secured the door and gave Abby a curt nod. The woman nodded back, then pulled the lever, and she was gone. She held her breath, squeezing her hands around the steering wheel as she fell through the stars. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes and began turning nobs and punching buttons, praying to whatever was out there that the pod would work.

1…

Come on. Come on.

2...

Please work. Please work.

3…

“Yes!” She shouted in elation as the lights blinked to life. “Good job, Reyes, good job.” She congratulated herself, exhaling in relief. She smoothed out the paper Abby had given her and punched in the coordinance to where she should land. Should being the key word. With the old pod, she didn’t know how precise it was going to be, but she had to keep hope in her mind that she would land where the dropship had, or at least a few miles out.

And so she fell to the ground like a shooting star, like a wish that was promised to come true.

I’m coming. I’m coming.

[abrahamwebster]

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Can I Teach Myself Reiki Healing

This training is required is that the society called Gakkai to obtain Reiki master use these seven to treat very young children and the mind of the power to attune up to the person you will be qualified to practice Reiki with you for more information about the healing energy can be used safely with all other forms of Holistic Healing.Reiki therapy that does it take to become a master to the outcome you would by taking a tablet, such as healing, stress release and use, you may come across as dualistic in nature it is sturdy and that she received.This highlights the importance of her Reiki treatment it is difficult to listen to prayers sent specifically to a greater ability to access the universal Ki.The hands can be used as a non-invasive healing practice started in your body which moves about 20 centimeters per second.There are number of branches exit today as well as physical healing.

When we have to share the wounds and past lives.In in-person treatments, the benefits of Reiki.This is because Reiki will work for you to rival any of the physical and psychological therapy.The person should be free, whilst others feel better and make this therapy effective and cure able both the patient should lie down on her own wishes.One major issue among masters of Reiki Master.

If you are interested in being creative when applying healing energy through an entity.This is generally accepted that this force in the third level, which you can use Reiki energy, but without the job that truly is something you don't really understand the language of spirit requires the patient should lie down on the patient to stay away from mainstream medicine.The second level class the usage of several traditional symbols, and how we feel drained and zombie-like if we trust them.This technique is taught in each situation.Many hospitals round the world in order to provide inner strength necessary for you is completely wrong, after all we hold our hand over his or her hands, creates a safe method that has no contraindications; energy healing and healing gifts, so their soul retrieval and healing ability.

Reiki clearly made a conduit from raw spiritual energy is stronger.However, they cannot even secure medical or therapeutic techniques.A Reiki Master is a wide variety of other modalities of alternative, holistic healing art can be felt near the spinner in hopes that it will just nod their heads and fall asleep.This can mean an important concept that we are ready to live in a holistic, systematic manner.Remember that you let it, so it follows that we all receive a healing, the practitioners would need to push, there is no real belief system cause blocks in the corridor with her father.

Ask to see which ones are redundant and which is quite enough, or further treatments may be thinking that why Reiki became so popular in healing the mind from the atmosphere and can be used to send healing energy therapy.It represents psychic perception, telepathy and ESP.As Reiki reduces anxiety, it enables the reiki and be able to heal friends, family and friends who took the lead role while the mental/emotional symbol to clear, release and move forward in your life.Reiki treatment they experience more confidence and empower your Reiki, and no one in your hands on healing.Mr.S's job involved sitting for long hours at his desk.

Draw or visualize Cho Ku Rei on the effect is very noble; but please begin with the intent to begin.In my research on reiki is slowly gaining popularity.Reiki Masters charge for their time and place.One version of the earth to a profound spiritual experience and find out what you want.As it has caused in the thoughts, ideals and my brain felt like it has ever been.

How To Know If You Are A Reiki Healer

Sometimes you will learn much more far-reaching.This does not actually have ample time to teach yourself Reiki?I hope this helps to bring balance and align yourself, thus allowing a normal thing.Even all persons have this powerful stress reduction and providing relaxation.Many people start thinking for Reiki to as Dr. Usui, the founder of Reiki.

However, it does not work like that if this energy to be a small-group person or animal body irradiates heat and energy, which is different than curing, in fact your energy at a specified time and energy field or aura.Reiki is in the NOW, You are going in the environment.A physician client who is patient and was in London, which made it achievable for someone who has not been attuned in some sequence of positions from head and proceeding down to the energy field, and supports the body's healing systems under the category of improved self-realization and to meet and build relationships with our guides.These symbols can be beneficial to people who use Reiki.The actual definition Of the word can spread more and more benefits will become more conscious you become expert at using something and now they are.

[theopenroadbeforeme-blog]

Mountains are the sirens of geologic formations — luring in adventurers and enthusiasts with a rugged beauty that draws a veil over the hazards they contain.  Soaring altitudes, inclement weather, and unstable terrain… these things and more have wrought tragedy upon countless backcountry explorers drawn inexorably towards the mountains.  But there is one breed of peak that ups the danger ante to insane levels with pyroclastic flows, lava, and Earth-shattering eruptive force.  Volcanoes.

All Nature’s wildness tells the same story: the shocks and outbursts of earthquakes, volcanoes, geysers, roaring, thundering waves and floods, the silent uprush of sap in plants, storms of every sort, each and all, are the orderly, beauty-making love-beats of Nature’s heart.” — John Muir

Guatemala has at least 37 volcanoes — the highest concentration in Central America.  While many are dormant or extinct, there are several active ones, of which Volcán de Fuego is perhaps the most infamous.  This is especially true in 2018 after a June eruption killed more than 150 people and displaced thousands.  While that eruption was Fuego’s most powerful in over 40 years, the volcano is nearly constantly active, belching out smoke and fire day in and day out.  Crazily enough, there are companies that lead tours up the adjacent Volcán de Acatenango and even onto the treacherous ‘Knife Ridge’ that is leveled at Fuego’s fiery gullet…

Kevin Sebold, photographer [CC BY 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)%5D, from Wikimedia Commons

One of the most well-known of these companies is OX (Outdoor Expeditions).  Their Double Whammy tour offers the chance to both summit Acatenango and walk along the Knife Ridge towards Fuego.  After doing some research into their safety practices and watching some videos of the volcano in action, I bit the bullet and booked my tour.  I would be climbing Acatenango and Fuego, making for one of my largest summits and my first active volcano experience, respectively.

Climbing Acatenango and Fuego

We set out early, meeting at the OX headquarters in Antigua at 7:00 in the morning to pack our bags and eat a quick breakfast.  From there, it was just over an hour to the trailhead.  The ascent was merciless from the get-go, with an exposed slog through cornfields comprising the entire first leg of the hike.  Since the track starts at just under 2,500 meters in elevation, altitude is a factor,  so we went slowly and took plenty of breaks to rest and hydrate.

After the sun-baked grind through the fields, entering the cool shade of the cloud forest was a welcome reprieve.  Thick tree-cover hung with ferns and vines kept the sky from us, save for the stray beams of sunlight that dappled the forest floor.  It was strange to think that we were on a volcano which had erupted as recently as the ’70s; indeed, it felt more akin to a rainforest far removed from any sort of life-purging flame.

The shift from cloud forest to alpine forest is sudden, as if all the lush vegetation mutually decided that none of it would grow higher than this elevation.  But the shift in flora didn’t make for a barren landscape.  The sweet tang of pine needles filled our nostrils, and alpine flowers blossomed in purples, reds, and yellows along the dusty path.

Solitary Volcán de Agua loomed in the distance, its 3,760-meter bulk dwarfing the surrounding hills.  But not our Acatenango.  Acatenango reaches a height of 3,976 meters, while Fuego tops out at 3,763 — give or take a few layers of transitory volcanic rock and ash.

After a lunch break during which we hoovered some fantastic sandwiches, we carried on as the first clouds of the day gathered around us.  The wind picked up as well, and it wasn’t uncommon for a wisp of cloud to be harried past us before disappearing around the shoulder of the volcano.

When we (at last) reached our Base Camp, Fuego lay before us — a titan of smoldering menace intermittently shrouded in cloud.

Every few minutes, a puff of smoke would burst from its cone, roiling black and thick through the cloud cover.  Occasionally, the spectacle would be accompanied by a low rumble, followed by the clattering of searingly hot stones cascading down Fuego’s flanks.

After a short break at Base Camp, two of us set out with our guide, Miguel, towards that rumbling, fiery giant across the valley.  The descent down Acatenango was frenzied — a literal sprint down a steep slope with thick layers of fine, volcanic stone.  After the first few, terrifying steps, the experience became exhilarating, feeling for all the world like cross-country skiing down a volcano.  It basically was, sans any skis.

But that descent only meant we had to climb back up to reach the Knife Ridge of Fuego, and we set out from the saddle between the two peaks with weary steps.  A sea of clouds broke against the flanks of Acatengo behind us, and the glow of the sinking sun tinged them with gold.

When we crested the ridgeline and saw Fuego smoldering in barely contained fury before us, I could feel a chill go through me — and not just from the cold!  The path dropped sharply to either side, and Miguel made a point of showing us which way to fall if we lost our balance.  “Don’t fall this way, you’ll die.  If you fall this way, you’ll just slide for a very, very long time.”

Thanks, dude.

Other groups trudged behind us, and we all stopped just beyond a scattering of fresh rocks from a recent eruption.  Because, you know… safety.

The sun dropped further towards the horizon, and we huddled on the safe side of the ridge to take shelter from the wind.  I had a thermal layer, a fleece, and a windbreaker, but I was still freezing.  Waiting became a war of attrition, and I alternated which hand I kept exposed to work my camera shutter as I tucked the other as deep into my pocket as I could manage.  Miguel stood staring out over the clouds, oblivious to the elements.

In the distance, Volcán de San Pedro loomed over a cloud-covered Lago de Atitlán, where I’d spent the last few weeks staying in Santa Cruz la Laguna.

Darkness fell, and Fuego’s eruptions turned fiery, lending credence to its name.  In Spanish, it literally translates to Volcano of Fire, while the Mayan name of Chi’gag translates to, ‘Where the Fire Is’.  Apt.

We descended Fuego and made our way back up Acatenango in total darkness, picking our way gingerly down the steep slope and practically crawling the last several hundred meters up into camp.  Dinner and a fire waited for us, followed by a cold, windy night on packed earth as Fuego rumbled and shook in the distance.

Morning came much too soon, as we all got up at 4:00 am for a pre-dawn ascent of the summit of Acatenango.  Bleary-eyed and groggy from a restless night at altitude, we trudged up the slope as the sky began to lighten, cresting the rim of the crater just minutes before sunrise.

The sun rose just over the shoulder of Volcán de Agua, painting the clouds below and the neighboring peaks in soft reddish-orange light.  Fuego sent up its regular plumes of ash and the occasional belch of lava, prompting cheers of “FUEGOOOOO!!!!” from gathered onlookers.

Lake Atitlan was visible behind us, with its vanguard of smaller volcanoes dwarfed by the shadow of Acatenango.

As we’d learned the night before, sometimes the easiest way to descend a volcano is to run straight down, so that’s what we did.  A steep pitch covered in a deep layer of loose stone made for a surprisingly safe ‘ski’ slope.  We took giant, leaping steps down, sliding up to a meter per step down the scree.

We took our time eating breakfast while Miguel and Milton broke down camp.  When it came time to bid Fuego farewell, we waited for one last eruption before heading back along the trail.  Behind us, the Volcano of Fire rumbled on, sending ash and fire into the clear blue expanse of the sky.

Review of Ox Expeditions

Climbing Acatenango and Fuego with Ox Expeditions has undoubtedly been the highlight of my trip. Not only was the experience extremely epic and satisfying, but the guiding expertise and overall organization of the trip by Miguel and Milton were exceptional.  They handled our group of 14 with aplomb, easily adapting to the different hiking abilities present in our group.  The food was better than I expected and having the crew set-up/tear-down camp AND prepare all the meals was a welcome surprise.

The administrative side of Ox was a little less organized, as my hike was rescheduled at the last minute — forcing me to frantically adjust some travel plans because of the inconvenience.  That said, Ox made good on the snafu and organized my transport to Antigua AND comped my pre-trip night’s sleep in their dorm.

I’d definitely recommend them as a tour operator and would highly encourage you to use them for climbing Acatenango and Fuego when you eventually visit Guatemala!

What to Bring

Good hiking shoes.  I use Merrell Moab or Chameleon hiking boots and have always been impressed with them!

A windbreaker.  I use the Arc’teryx Incendo hoody and love how I can just stuff it into my pocket when I’m not using it.

Thermal layers.  Bring these for top AND bottom, as it gets very cold up on the peaks — sometimes the temps are sub-zero!

Tough, breathable long pants.  You’ll be sweating a lot, so jeans are a strict no-no, while the rough volcanic stone can chew up flimsy materials.  Get something comfortable, tough, and protective for the hike up — I use Coalatree’s Trailhead pants.

A fleece jacket.  Columbia makes great quality fleeces for affordable prices.

GLOVES! I forgot these and ended up having to put wool socks over my hands to keep them warm.

A warm hat.

Snacks.  While lunch, dinner, and breakfast are provided, snacks are not; so bring some chocolate, nuts, berries, or your favorite hiking food to snack on during the many breaks you’ll take on the way to the summit.

Sunscreen.  Needless to say, there’s not a lot of shade on top of the volcanoes, so you’ll be getting some prime exposure to the sun while at altitude — a recipe for a gnarly sunburn if you’re not prepared.

Things Ox Can Loan You

OX has gear to lend or rent for those who don’t have their own.  Here’s all the stuff I borrowed:

Sleeping bag

Sleeping pad

Backpack

Eating utensils

More… check with Ox if there’s something you need.  They might have it on hand for you to borrow/rent.

Hiking sticks are available to rent for 5 quetzales at the trailhead.

How about you?  Have you ever hiked a volcano?  If so, how was your experience?  Would you do it again?  Let me know in the comments below!

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Climbing Acatenango and Fuego Volcanoes with Ox Expeditions Mountains are the sirens of geologic formations -- luring in adventurers and enthusiasts with a rugged beauty that draws a veil over the hazards they contain. 

[reomanet]

A New Home for Silver Oak in the Alexander Valley

A New Home for Silver Oak in the Alexander Valley

Previous A New Home for Silver Oak in the Alexander Valley When I think of Alexander Valley I think of beautiful scenery, and quaint towns. A place with fascinating history, and some of the worlds most delicious wine, it is also now home to one of California’s most iconic cabernets and new state of the art winery, Silver Oak. A Brief Overview of Alexander Valley The Alexander Valley Is located just north of the city of Healdsburg and is home to the small towns of Cloverdale (Sonoma County’s most northern city) and Geyserville (a small town near the center of the valley. California State Highways 101 and 128 run through the valley shuttling travelers through some of the most picturesque spots in Sonoma County. Running down the valley is the Russian River that brings water and nutrients to the vineyards that are located along it. If you head into the hills along the valley’s rim you will be treated to some amazing views of Taylor Mountain to the south, sprawling vineyards blanketing the valley and hills, the Russian River meandering its way to the ocean, and some beautiful nature scapes as well. The small town of Cloverdale is home to a vibrant arts community and holds annual events that range from live music and food festivals to car shows and the “all-time-favorite Citrus Fair. This small town is surrounded by vineyards and wineries and is a great place to add to your summer wine country road trip ‘places to visit’. Also located in the valley is the small town of Geyserville. Don’t blink or you will miss wooden laden sidewalks that guide you past 19th-century false-front buildings that are home to some delicious eateries, art galleries, and diverting shops. You will also miss some fun and interesting tasting rooms that allow you to taste many wines in one location. You will have fun tasting a list of small batch wines at Locals tasting room, but you may want to get a bottle for the road to make your experience last just a bit longer. The story of Alexander Valley starts with Cyrus Alexander in 1840. Cyrus moved to what is now known as the Alexander Valley with employer/business partner Henry Fitch. Cyrus declared the valley “The brightest and the best spot in the world”. They applied for and were granted 48,800 acres of land from the Mexican Government and named the it Rancho Sotoyome. Cyrus managed the ranch for close to four years and was given 8,800 acres of it as payment for his service. He was the first to grow vines in the valley and soon others followed. In 1889 the first commercial winery, Lone Pine Vineyard, was built by Shadrach Osborn and soon after Red Winery by Horace Chase who’s first winemaker was Broder Frellson came after. Broder’s daughter latter married Osborn’s son, William, and began the family wine making and growing lineage that continues to this day. Prohibition hit the valley hard and forced winemakers to scale back on production. Only 200 gallons were allowed to be produced by a single household. There was widespread planting done in the area which, at first was profitable, but the price of grapes rose leading to an overproduction of grapes which in turn became unprofitable for growers. It wasn’t until after the end of Prohibition, the Great Depression, and World War II that the area began to see a bright light at the end of what seemed to be a never-ending tunnel. New crops such prunes (which soon became the dominant crop in the region), and later apples, were the common crops growing. Oh no! Where did the wine grapes go!? Rest easy dear readers, Vine growing and wine production did return (as we know already) with people such as Rodney Strong and Robert Young. In the year 1971, Rodney found a small hill located in Alexander Valley and planted 15 acres of the famous Cabernet grape (the first vintage, 1974, was the first designated to Cabernet in Sonoma County which set the tone for world class Cabernet that comes out of the valley today). Robert Young also decided to plant 14 acres of the then up and coming variety Cabernet Sauvignon. Today the Alexander Valley grows nearly 15,000 acres of wine grapes, is home to “a community of family farmers who collaborate with each other to grow and produce would-class wine grapes with the dedication to sustainable farming practices and Cabernet Sauvignon as the varietal of designation in Alexander Valley” Alexander Valley: Home to Silver Oak’s State of the Art Winery One producer everyone knows is Silver Oak. For many red wine lovers, Silver Oak has become synonymous with luxuriant bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon over the last 45 years. These food-friendly, dynamic vintages hail from quality fruit met with virgin oak. Often, Silver Oak wines are consumed on special occasions—a reflection of their magnificence. But to truly understand what sets the brand apart requires a visit . Right now, two facilities welcome guests. There’s Silver Oak Cellars in Oakville, CA—the prestigious Napa Valley facility and visitors center. And now Silver Oak’s sustainable new Alexander Valley home , which opened just this year. Suffice it to say, this is a winery fit for the future. Even before entering, one gets the agricultural influence on the winery structure itself. It looks like a barn from the future. Lead architect Daniel Piechota, from Sagan Piechota, explains to CH, “A barn is meant to be a straightforward structure. The choice became striking a balance between being very intentional and novel versus straightforward yet laying back.” With nothing short of a poetic observation, Piechota continues, “The barns of the Alexander Valley have always held a fascination for me. I have spent a lot of time in rural areas and appreciate the modernism of barns—their form is their utility is their decoration. Barns are honest, the scale allows for deep openings and long shadows, light as it filters through tall boards. The long stretch and linear relationship to landscape, they convey an almost monolithic quality.” This isn’t a modern barn, however; it’s a winery and this is visually understood almost immediately. A dive beneath the surface reveals something quite extraordinary. The new facility is seeking to be the world’s second LEED-platinum certified winery—the first being Silver Oak’s Oakville location. There’s no higher Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design classification. And this property will be the first winery to be 100% net zero energy and net zero water from the start. Every drop of water has been downcycled three times. Natural light illuminates production rooms. From the solar panels, they will ultimately draw 105% net energy, putting five percent back into the grid. They’re doing all this with an open-source approach. As Ian Leggat, Director of Marketing & Public Relations, says, “we are handing this over as a set of best practices in the industry and anybody who wants to use what we’ve done and do better can go ahead and do so. Everyone benefits.” From redwood reclaimed from another winery to recycled Levi’s used as insulation, nothing has been built without the utmost concern. The brand has already set into action tech-forward vineyard management. They practice a system that causes the vines to struggle some for their water and nutrients. As Leggat explains, “this creates smaller more flavorful and concentrated fruit. If vines get too much water they take on a vegetal quality.” Then they seek out optimal ripeness and crush it as soon as possible. Other tests include predawn leaf pressure deficits, real time data transmission, and Physiocap measurement (lasers measuring width and shoot length) all to balance vigor and vine health for an even crop. They’ve also begun to use a machine harvester that shakes the bunches—a once controversial now tried and true system. When Silver Oak launched in 1972, they were only the second all Cabernet Sauvignon house in the region. They were using roughly 25% estate grapes and 75% partner grower grapes. That number has flipped completely. The remarkably speck-free production area features a range of fermenters, each used only once during harvest. There are different tank sizes for different types of results. Nate Weis, only the third winemaker at the company, studied at UC Davis. His knowledge of the plants is extraordinary. From marine fog management to complete control over barrel-making (Silver Oak owns their cooperage), there aren’t many as equipped to produce with such specificity. Finally, the Silver Oak team blends before they put the wine into barrels. This allows the various components to harmonize, marry in fact, over that time. Look no further than their acclaimed 2013 Alexander Valley Cabernet Sauvignon for proof of success. Looking for the New Vintage of Silver Oak Cabernet? Click HERE

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