#what? i wanted an excuse to draw bigger characters and drew the first thing that came to mind

[rose-ramblings]

drew raditz today

#goldic's drawings #raditz #couldn't decide whether he should wear his armor or just be shirtless #ended up drawing this lmao #big pathetic man full of fluffy hair (affectionate) #what? i wanted an excuse to draw bigger characters and drew the first thing that came to mind #unfortunately for everybody it just happened to be Raditz #there's some turlerad if you squint; turles did this just to mess with him

[dewdroppdraws]

Hi I’m new to tumblr so I’m not sure how you normally post on here but I wanted to try posting some sketches of earth from tsams! I’m not the best with anatomy so I won’t lie I did trace over some photos (REAL PHOTOS NOT ART) I found on Pinterest and modified the proportions to fit my design, but I’m trying to improve lol. For now I just rlly wanted to flesh out my design for earth which I couldn’t do while my anatomy looked like crap 😭 all the full body ones I used references for but the one in the right corner was all me so I’ve got that to my name at least 💪 I’ll include my “reference” pictures as well :> and below the pics is an explanation of the design because I love to gush about this kind of thing. Fair warning, it’s pretty long LMAO

Hehe now it’s time for me to gush about my lil design 😈

So the first major difference you probably noticed (aside from body shape) is the very fluffy clothing I have her in. The leg warmers and… fingerless gloves? Leg warmers that she put on her arms? Idk what the arm ones are called but yk what I’m talking about lol. When I first noticed earths little rainbow headband my brain immediately said “80’s workout videos”. The big hair, the rainbow headband, it just immediately jumped ot at me and stuck. I decided to give her oversized leg warmers in that same rainbow pattern because it made me sad that her actual design doesn’t have the rainbow anywhere else. It’s funky and I like it what can I say.

Next I decided I really wanted her to wear thigh-highs. I personally love thigh-highs and also it gave me an excuse not to think about her leg mechanics. I tend to draw Sun and Moon like ball joint dolls, but it gets a lil funky to draw when they are bending their limbs so having a fluffy excuse to hide them was ideal lol. I decided to go with the bold choice of putting thigh highs and leg warmers on her, which I don’t regret even tho it probably seems like a lot. I might change a few things about her later down the line since these were just basic sketches so don’t worry if you hate it.

I gave her shorts because a skirt just didn’t feel right for her. I feel like a daycare attendant would be very active, even if earth tends to sit with the quieter kids, and a skirt would be very awkward to climb around in. I figured shorts would be good. I drew them like jean shorts since that was the original intention but they could be cloth rather than denim gimme time to think about it 💀

I had a lot of trouble decided whether the thingies on her shoulders were stand-alone or like pieces of hair she keeps up front (probably attached cuz she’s a robot) I decided on making them attached to the bigger floor of hair cuz I thought it looked cutest on the pic with her shoulders up and in front of her face lol.

Onto her chest plate thing, I was considering making it an actual shirt but decided against it. I wanted her to have a crop top bc I love crop tops so I just made it so her chest area was painted like a shirt, and then her middle area was back to her “skin” color, so it’s almost like a crop top but not really…?

Last but not least is her face, I also made that her “skin” color and just put the blue and green as her cheeks! I thought it looked cutest that way. She also has heterochromia cuz when a character has two main colors I really enjoy putting them on opposite sides as often as possible haha. So her green cheek has her blue eye and her blue cheek has her green eye. I know her original model has two blue eyes but this was what I went with.

Anyways that was super long and I’m super nervous about posting this so I’m just gonna hit post and if I find a typo or decide my lil explanation was 4 paragraphs too many I’ll fix it later. Have a nice day whoever is still reading this! :>

#digital art #artwork #procreate #tsams earth #sams earth #art #fanart #the sun and moon show #sun and moon show #sketches #sketch

[clarktooncrossing]

HEY THERE PEOPLE OF TODAY AND ROBOTS OF TOMORROW! IT'S ME, CLARK! There is a madness deep in the dark catacombs of Castle Clarkenstein. For years these claustrophobic corridors have been the home of the ghoulish giraffe himself, watching as the world passes by. He prefers it this way. It gives him more time alone with the voices. The voices tell him many strange things. Yet they always come back to one: make more monsters! Everyday they tell him this. Everyday he is unable to comply. Hey, being a mad scientist on a budget means he can’t afford the fancy scientific equipment needed to breathe life into newborn abominations. Guy’s gotta afford pizza somehow. Luckily, he has discovered a way of sorts to please the voices. During all those years of watching, Dr. Clarkenstein noticed a particular pattern. Every night during October saw artists posting new pictures based on peculiar prompts. Many of them based on children of the night. While the spotted specter might not be able to craft new zombies, he can sure as heck sketch’m! As such, I provide this friendly warning to you all now: Be afraid. Few people can survive the horrors that are DUDELZ of the Damned!

By that I mean I decided to do my own take on Sketchtober this year just minus the prompts. Anybody gotta problem with that? Tough, cuz I already drew this crap so you might as well check it out.

All Hallow’s Eve has arrived in the Big Apple. For many it’s a time for tricks and treats. For the Knights of the Square Table, it means overtime. While a handful of their colleagues attended to other affairs, AH, 102, ZO-E, and LAS-E were out on patrol when they got the call from Greenwich Village. Much like the parade held there every year, Halloween served as a perfect excuse for some psycho to make their move. Our heroes arrived prepared for the worst of trouble. What they couldn’t predict was one of their own being turned against them. AH certainly couldn’t. While surveying the crowd in the hopes to find their foe, a strange fog overcame and overwhelmed the blind bot. It forced her down to the ground, crying out in pain as a mysterious force transformed her. Her fingers crept out into claws, her face sprouted into a snout, her figure became far bigger. By the time her friends arrived on the scene it was too late: the AH Wolf was born! Compelled by the mysterious force, she swatted her colleagues away under the assumption they were the real threat. Whatever was manipulating AH had turned her into a monster. One that required the rest of our heroes to drop their plans to help their pal. Now with the magical might of EMIL-E, the Knights of the Square Table must turn AH back to normal and figure out who's behind all of this before it’s too late. Can our heroes save the night?

Even if they can’t, this was yet another fun DUDEL to draw. It’s also an idea I’ve had locked away in my mind for the longest time. You can tell because I first drew this character variation back in 2016, back when I was still in CTI. I drew that along with an idea for another spoopy sketch we’ll be seeing later this week, but clearly it was in need of a much needed update. At the very least I knew I wanted to draw this fun take on a werewolf howling atop one of the Chrysler Building eagles, which seems like prime real estate for monster posing. Seriously, if that hasn’t been done in a movie yet then somebody has to make it happen! AH will keep it warm for you until you do. Otherwise there’s not much to say about the redesign, since I stayed fairly faithful to the original with a few tweaks here and there. Really the most interesting aspect of this piece was when I drew it. There was a full moon out a few nights ago and I took that as a sign that I just had to draw this. The following night got even stranger with the arrival of a Blood Moon. Not only was the moon full, but not like Sandy Claws it was huge and red! According to my friend @Void-Android this is what happens when Earth’s shadow is in the lunar eclipse phase. Either way it looked super cool and prompted me to complete this werewolf-based DUDEL that I hope you all enjoy!

MAY THE GLASSES BE WITH YOU!

#clarktooncrossing #clarktoons #DUDELZ #DUDELZ of the Damned #Halloween #Halloween Art #sketches #yellow #werewolf #wirewolf #robot #AH #original art #inktober #say no to ai art #ai art sucks #original character #fall #NYC #New York City #New York #chrysler building #robot werewolf #future

[sexydreamgirl]

Hey, sexy boy anon here! I hope you're doing well :D

warning: pls bear with my frustrated confusion between british and american spelling LOL

I decided to take a break from tumblr to just chill and focus on my own power and do my own thing and I wanted to update! more success stories and realizations and stuff

I've reassured myself much more about my self-concept (though it was already good to start >:3). Without the over-consumption of NG and LOA posts I started to realize that I can just relax

like when i affirmed that this person i didn't like wouldn't be there, they wouldn't. if i didn't want something to happen, it was suddenly cancelled. and i'm consciously doing this, too. when i know i want something or don't want something (near future or far future), i just know it's going to just happen as i want it (and this sounds like i'm affirming but it's a legit line of thinking i've fallen into) i've done this for "bIgGer" things too, like exact items i want with no cost at all.

and something i've noticed as i continued to shape my concept of myself and reflect on my position in my reality (as the creator) i felt like things were more? real? before i felt like i was kind of a background character, as if things were not supposed to happen to me, and (i assumed) people weren't really talking to me because they wanted to. i assumed that i was a person who didn't have what i wanted and so i felt really detached? but after i affirmed for my self concept, i suddenly started to realize like WOAH people actually see me, they think that i'm cool, i'm actually someone who's getting the school of his dreams, i'm actually living the life that i want, i'm actually being included in things. just a cool effect of SC i guess!

i've also developed my own funky way of doing visualisations and SATS and everything! for me, i hate it when i have to "force" myself to lie down and deliberately start visualising anything, even if I'm a person who could spend HOURS day dreaming (though i have a control of when to start and stop). Like there would just be a block and nothing would feel real. But I'm something of an artist myself (insert lip bite emoji here) so I draw out really simple cartoons/this tiny manga with me being in a situation that i really want, and i use natural dialogue from others to point out things about myself (or I draw out what i have). E.g. I draw myself with my ideal body and any details i want, and then i write out in a thought bubble my self concept "wow, everything really always come to me when i want it! aren't i so great lol???" and when i draw myself walking down a hall in between a situation (between me and my SP 😳), i'd draw a much shorter person than me and make them whisper to their friend "wow he's so tall!" and stuff like that. when i want to emphasize moments in first person to feel real, i just draw in my perspective, e.g. when i notice that my SP is blushing and looking at me in the eye.

It really helps cuz I always draw before bed time, and then once I've forced myself to stop drawing (cuz it's fun) i have to go sleep but i just WANNA keep focusing on that storyline i had and the feeling of being that character which is me, and i naturally start to visualise everything so naturally and without force AND ACTUALLY FEEL IT REAL! like i get actual feelings and sensations of having those things. and since i stay up until the latest possible, i don't really have to wait for the SATS state to kick in, so i just basically drew myself into the state and have the funnest time.

writing works too, sometimes i write out a scene instead, and then i go to bed daydreaming into feeling it real. i even make pinterest boards for my go-to comic of the night just for added aesthetics and more excuses for daydreaming LOL

ONE LAST THING and i hope this long ass post isn't ruining your feed or anything 😩 after having the wackiest dream about manifesting (like about god and reality and manifesting) there was a time where I was accidentally in the void state! and i didn't even want to use the void state cuz im too lazy for that shiz lmao, but here would be my description:

it's just all black but not black like the darkness in your room or the black behind your closed eyelids, it feels like you're just in some kind of space. i think i was also in sleep paralysis cuz i couldn't move. when i woke up in that state i was like oh! im in the void state! quick what do i wish for?!! what should i tell myself to give myself?!?! should i shift?!?!?!??!! and i affirmed for height, and knowing that since i was in that state it would be done (though it already was :P) and right after i affirmed it everything felt super static and weird, like i was being transported somewhere with extreme force upwards to another place, and then I felt my legs buzzing like crazy and like they were elongating, and i decided to prepare myself to go back to sleep cuz it lowkey felt really nice. i think at that point i was sleeping back into just sleeping/dreaming mode but no idea.

anyways i won't burden you with anymore text! i again wish you are doing really well and though you can do it yourself im manifesting that you get like a really tasty desert (or alternative if you don't want dessert)!

<3

omg sexy boy hello!! haven’t heard fro you in so long! this was such an interesting update! I’m glad you’ve been doing so well for yourself <3 Also, your manga method? SO unique and SO cool! I want to ask you if in the future if I decide to make a post about methods would it be okay with you if I mention it because I love how creative it is! And congrats on going to the void! I’m super proud of you! This update was excellent ahh I can’t wait to hear from you again!

#sexy boy anon #methods

[mirrorforevers]

heavenly nobodies (or “the fog”) • graham/reader

this is a bit heavier than usual, ladies. proceed w caution. tw for mentions of abusive relationships, drug abuse and reader has no self-esteem at all. nothing too descriptive in that sense though

on a lighter note, reader n graham are basically two lost adults acting like petty children

a quick disclaimer: its not my intention in *any way* to glorify or romanticize drug abuse or basically anything any of these characters do - its messed up shit. this is fiction, don't take it seriously, please

if this fic was a song, even though its titled after a lush song, it would be lark by angel olsen i guess. might have a sequel someday i dunno

+18, as always. contains smut. this is sososososo long and has went through so many rewrites im sorry. but i do think its my best fic yet!

set in the mid 90s

word count: 3.780

You still remember the day it began.

A nasty fight took place between Graham and Alex. You only got involved because your relationship became one of the topics of the heated debate. Long story short, Graham basically screamed at you two that you, Y/N, were wasting your life away by dating someone like James.

At first you were blind with rage and defended your decadent relationship while insulting Coxon until your throat burned from the screaming match, but afterwards, after you caught yourself thinking a little too long about how James' eyes sometimes seemed to hover over you with an indifference Coxon's never, ever showed, and how it hurt to see Alex in the arms of an entire sea of more attractive women than you - and how shallow you've become for even trying to excuse his behavior with something as empty as the fact you weren't as stereotypically beautiful as the other girls he screwed, you noticed something wasn't quite right about the entire situation, but you still felt shivers at the prospect of telling him you were sorry. He also had a lot to apologize for.

The fog. That's what's been messing with your mind lately. And Graham's. And everyone else's.

It's hard to think about things clearly as they happen in your life when all you feel during most of it is hedonistic, empty bliss. Everything moves in slow motion. The regret, the harsh words, always come afterwards, like a sudden car crash, after people realize the very real consequences of what they said and done while they were immersed in their own very temporary, elusive, pleasures. The fog also made you bitter - not only you, but Graham, Alex and the other boys as well; your relationship with them as a group of friends and individually, each in a different way, consequently turned into a toxic, resentful mess of chaotic feelings and unresolved conflicts. Your relationship with Graham was by far the most affected.

You grew up together. You went to the same college. You very briefly had a thing. He drew you lots and lots of times, you haven't lost a drawing. You realized you didn't love him like *that* and he was okay with it. You were still as close as ever.

Then you met his other friends. In the beginning, he was so excited about this whole "band" thing. The boys were funny, compelling, undoubtedly hard to deal with sometimes, but you got them quickly. Their music very gradually became successful - they deserved it. They sounded so good together. You noticed Graham was a bit jealous of how you interacted with the other boys sometimes. Damon and Dave were the first ones who tried (hard) to bed you, but Alex, effortlessly, was the one who got to.

One night turned into two, three, fifteen. Then into a fucked up prototype of a relationship around the time their stages got bigger, more packed with screaming teenagers and all of you met her – heroin. Graham got proportionally and gradually more distressed and anxious each day. You didn't know which one of these things disturbed him the most, after all, he didn't speak to you (or anyone, for fuck's sake) like he used to. Thousands of little things began to intercalate and swallow everything you've built together.

You've started to hate him - he refused to speak to you about what was bothering him, and you barely talked outside of the inevitable circumstances. Meanwhile, Alex dragged you even deeper into his questionable lifestyle and you shrinked into it until you could pretend it fit you like a glove. You felt so small. Invisible to everything and everyone who truly mattered, even to yourself. You tried to reach out to the one who mattered most plenty of times, but every time you tried to reach out to him it would end up in screams and even more resentment. It seemed like there was no way back - he hated you as well because he thought you were just like Alex. It felt like a knife was twisted in your stomach when he said it the first time. You pretended it didn't hurt the other ones - those were the nights your binges were the worst and you'd vomit yourself to sleep, though.

Everything was leading you to one of those nights again, until you heard a knock on your door. At this time of night, it was definitely Alex.

You tried to tidy yourself up as much as you could in a matter of a few minutes. You thought you weren't as effortlessly beautiful as the other women in his life - as if cheating had something to do with appearance and not with his character, but oh well - and you felt like you had to at least try to keep up with their pace. You washed your face, smeared some foundation on some old stretch (and track) marks and tried to pretend his presence was the brightest spot on your day. He disguised so much criticism under the pretense of worry, leaving you feeling so bad about yourself, but you needed his approval like you needed air on your lungs (or opioids on your veins) for some reason you couldn't quite explain.

You open the door, holding your breath while you tried to ignore the pit that grew on your stomach just to find out that...

"Graham?" You were simultaneously relieved and revolted to see him on your door. Adrenaline ran through your veins. You didn't realize how afraid you were of him - you've only hurt one another with words, but still, you were afraid to cross eyes with him just because you felt like it would start another fight and you would simply never speak to each other ever again, not even to fight. You were afraid of how deep your friendship has corroded.

He was visibly hurting, just like you. It comforted and hurt you to see it.

"You were waiting for him, weren't you?" He noted, vaguely motioning towards the lipstick on your lips. You felt pathetic.

"What are you doing here?" You quickly wiped the lipstick off your lips while he looks around, not really knowing what to answer. His eyes, puffy, somehow indicated he wasn't there to say he was sorry. At that point, you didn't even cared who was in the wrong. You just wanted to know why he was there.

"Just came here to tell you that... I'm leaving Blur, and... I'll be moving to Germany with a friend. Tomorrow."

"What kind of joke is this?"

"I wanted to tell you because... I felt like we got so used to each other's presence t-that... even if you're relieved by the news, uh, I think you should know in advance."

There was no mischief in his eyes. There was no point in joking with something like that. It's not like you were comfortable enough with each other to joke with each other nowadays anyway. That realization crushed you and anchored you to the very confusing and tragic reality just laid out in front of you.

It was so uncharacteristic. You knew of his tendency to run away from these types of situations and this time he simply didn't. Your mouth refused to close. "I-I don't understand. You... You can't... You can't just do that. You have a fucking gig tomorrow!"

"I won't justify myself to you. Just... take care of yourself and... don't let that leech suck the life out of you more than he already did."

"You don't understand. You don't understand anything. Is this about him? Again?" In yet another wave of adrenaline, you pulled him inside your flat and he just lets you. "Are you moving to bloody Germany because of what went on between us today?!"

"I don't care that you don't love me. I care that I can't go for a fucking day without seeing you waste away your life with him. If he was someone that made you happy... but he's just killing you. I can't deal with that."

Still in shock, you pulled him in a desperate kiss. It was not an attempt of making him stay, but something else entirely new. He had to say he was leaving so you could really know, in a matter of a few seconds, how much you needed him there.

His reciprocity simultaneously broke your heart and filled it with hope - you knew how far your relationship with Alex went and how tough it would be to break free from the chains he's got your heart tangled in, but at the same time, Coxon kissed you in a way no one else ever did. He loved you like no one else could. And that's how you noticed how easily you clinged to any sign of true affection given how much Alex's been neglecting your emotional and physical needs lately. Everything was about him all the time, it was a monologue. Graham and you had a conversation.

(A conversation that lasted all night. Thankfully, Alex didn't show up. He must've been talking to someone else.)

Instead of sweet nothings and love confessions, funnily enough, you and Graham exchanged soft "I hate you"s after the deed was done. You both hated the situation you were in. Hated that even though the passion burned hot as fire between you, you were stuck in a mess bigger than everything that just went through both of you. But never each other. You just couldn't name the feeling right.

Perhaps needless to mention, he stayed in the United Kingdom. Instead of sitting and talking like adults about what you felt about each other though, the bickering somehow became even worse.

Of course you started to take his side on fights more often. Mock Alex's behavior together more often. Something definitely changed between the two of you, but it still wasn't enough. Graham was still furious that you wouldn't give up on James. You were still furious that he wouldn't take your relationship with Alex seriously. It had its many faults, yes, but it was special in a way no one else grasped and you were raised to think that people shouldn't give up on others that easily, a convention that no modern deconstruction of social norms could take out of you out of a sudden. Not even Graham. But instead of raising your voices and breaking things around you, you've found other means to release the tension between you. Usually in dark corners of untidy pubs, his flat or yours. It became so frequent it didn't need any planning anymore.

Following the opposite path of the earlier days of your animosity, the more intense the fights got now, the lower your voices got. Instead of distancing yourselves from each other in the middle of screams, your bodies got closer like magnets. He could be so tender somehow even when his words stung like venom.

You were living and breathing contradictions. Him in the way he conveys his hopeless submissiveness to you in the way every touch of yours breaks him and the way he just isn't able to cum if he sees you're not having enough pleasure, yet he fucks you like he wants it to hurt and pretends nothing happened after you're done; and you in the way you cling to him like he's your lifeline when he's deep inside of you but isn't hesitant to not look him in the eye on some other nights.

The night of one of the parties thrown by Blur's record company following the release of The Great Escape wasn't one of the latter.

While the lower floor of the venue is frenetic with people immersed in different levels of ecstasy caused by all sorts of different substances, the upper floor is reserved to the lovers, or people who were looking for a calmer place to talk or to relatively safely de-escalate from their highs. You, on the other hand, just wanted to run away from the view of Alex kissing another woman in the event he brought you to. You were almost falling asleep in one of the tiny, dimly lit and cramped rooms when a small, familiar voice woke you up. "Why aren't you downstairs with your future husband?"

You feel aloof. The slightest mention of the one you think you love disgruntles you. "Ugh. I should have known it was you," you grumble, giving him room to share the sofa with you. "You know why."

"I don't. Someone once told me I don't understand anything." He accepts the offer almost unconsciously. It's so interesting to see how his actions contradict his words and posture, just like your actions contradict yours.

"I'm still right about that. Why did you come here? To mock me?"

"You're lost."

"And so are you. Don’t talk. I don’t want to hear it."

"Do you want me to leave?" he asks, calmly, knowing what the answer will be.

It's always a no.

You instinctively move closer to him, as if he's about to disappear in a cloud of dust in any moment. You don't ever want him to leave.

He notices your eyes are glistening when your lips touch, so smoothly and in such a tender way. His hands enter your hair, just below your ears, and you melt at his touch all over again.

The kiss starts out slow, then becomes more and more intense. His tongue slides against yours and you whine, clutching at him like he’s the only thing tethering you to this earth. It becomes so easy to let him settle between your thighs. He runs one of his large hands through your hair, fists it, and pulls your head so he can have easier access to your neck, filling it with open-mouthed kisses. “Why the fuck,” you manage to murmur in between heavy breaths, “do you care so much about me?”

He doesn't answer. His fingers trace the hem of your dress instead, skimming up the side of your leg. You whimper as he moves them over the sensitive skin to the apex of your thighs, his lips finding the side of your throat again. He sucks a mark into your skin just as his thumb caress your core so lightly above your underwear and you whisper, voice trembling with desire: "You're so much better than him."

He's not sure if you're just leading him on, and neither are you. He doesn't even know if he has heard it right. The fog really blurs every line. Reason, feelings, motives. "You never cried over me", he answers, seeking to turn that reality around, it seemed. Your hips buck into his touch, and a moan escapes you when his hand coyly seeks direct contact with your clit, stimulating it with precision from the start. "You truly... don't know shit," you gasp, grinding harder against his touch and losing yourself to his ministrations, the fog of an earlier hit helping in enveloping you in a state of so much bliss.

"Do you want me to lock the door?" His raspy voice takes you out of this world. You nod, a little disappointed by having such a great feeling interrupted for the sake of privacy. Your lips were spit-slick and pinkened, your eyes half lidded. The sight made Graham breathe hard through his nose, but he somehow kept his composure. When he goes to lock the door, you couldn't help noticing the tent you helped build in his jeans. You feel proud of yourself.

He returns with the hungry kisses and eager touches, slowly driving you crazy all over again. His kisses lower down, down... and you pat his shoulders, motioning for him to stop. "I want to make you feel good tonight." He accepts the offer.

You scooch downwards, just above his hips, and you pull his pants and the waistband to his briefs down in one swift motion. He's painfully hard, but that was hardly a surprise. Graham straightens his back just in time to watch you take the reddened head of his cock into your mouth. He claps a hand over his mouth, hips bucking upwards into the wet heat instinctively, your warm breath enveloping his dick and clouding his mind.

Wrapping your fingers around it, you gently jerk him off, slowly sliding your hand from the tip back to the base. He groans, watching you as you fill his senses with a dull warmth. You stare back at him, smiling as he groans at your warm breath.

You run the tip of your index finger tentatively along the underside of his cock, watching with fascination as his cock twitches and reacts to your presence. You lean forward, breathing on the head before planting a soft kiss on the tip. Coxon whimpers, his dick aching from your attention. Tired of the teasing, you begin stroking it, your soft fingers loosely bouncing along his shaft. He leans his head back to the ceiling when you kiss the tip again.

You eye his cock excitedly, before you lean forward and lick his head, swirling your tongue around the crown and flicking it across the tip. His hips thrust forward before you can even react, his mind reeling as your tongue slowly traces along a vein you followed from the head all the way to the base. He groans, and was about to say something when his mind went blank. He sees pure white, his brain shutting down almost completely as you wrap your mouth around the end of his cock and set a steady rhythm to the oral stimulation. His chest rumbles as a deep growl of satisfaction leaves him, shaking through the air, the vibrations in your mouth punctuating his growl with a hiss.

He cracks his eyes open, his glazed eyes staring down to find you staring directly at him. The sight of his rigid cock vanishing between your soft lips made his skin crawl. He groans heavily, grasping your head on instinct and thrusting forward.

You gasp lightly as he shoves himself deeper inside your mouth, pushing against your throat. He moans your name desperately, panting heavily as his hips automatically thrust against you. You stand firm, keeping only the front half of his cock in your mouth, slithering your tongue against the crown and watching intently for his reactions. He was close, his mind firmly on fire as his body reacted on autopilot, trying to extract as much pleasure as possible. He could feel his climax approaching, your soft lips and gentle eyes coaxing him on. You look into his eyes and give an experimental bob of your head, taking him further into your mouth. Feeling the characteristic salty taste of precum on your tongue, you take your mouth off his cock, and before his mind is able to form a cohesive sentence of protest, you take off your underwear and sit on his lap. His hands now squeeze your hip, pulling you closer. Your wetness leaves a bit of a trail on his legs before you sink on his hard, already lubricated cock.

"You're addicted to my cock, aren't you," It's fascinating how Graham's behavior changes when he's drunk. In the best and worst ways. He would never say something like that while sober. You nod in agreement, face flush with arousal and need. "He can't even fuck you," he punctuactes with an especially hard thrust, "like I can." he envelops you in a sort of hug as his broad shoulders and arms now dictate the rhythm you both follow.

"He--c-an't, fuck--"

"Do you think," he takes his entire cock out of you just so he can go even deeper when he says, "he'll hear us... if you say my name out loud?" he smiles when a loud moan escapes your lips, feeling completely in control of your body. You can't even talk anymore, just nod, like a marionette.

"So say it." Another thrust. And another. And another. You follow his pace with your hips religiously, not even slightly ashamed of making the name of the one who's giving you so much pleasure public, as he commanded. You take the last atom of control on your body and direct it to your pussy, clenching your walls tighter around him, an action that successfully tears his thoughts apart, making his eyebrows furrow and his mouth, agape. One of his hands move to the middle of your bodies and, as he looks down at where your bodies meet, begins to stimulate your clit to the rhythm of his thrusts. His groans turn louder when your body moves towards his again, and the sound of your moans, along with the sound of skin against skin and your ragged breaths were the only thing you were able to hear, along with the distant sound of It Could Be You playing in the background.

In a daze, he says your name in that unique way that only he knew how to - like it was part of a prayer and your body was his God(dess). You dig your nails into his back while he fucks you without a trace of mercy. You close your eyes, losing yourself in all those sensations as Graham continued his movements. When he punctuates his now even faster thrusts with a string of "fuck, fuck, fuck" - that's when you know he's close, a suspicion confirmed true as he comes hard inside of you, closing his eyes tightly as he reached his climax. You follow him seconds later.

When he recovers enough to be able to breathe calmly and control his heartbeat, Graham rests his chin on your shoulder. Neither of you say anything for a long time.

And when the spasms of pleasure are gone, Graham's brain decides to go back to work and he realizes what had just happened - again. Suddenly, the sensation of bliss is accompanied by that weird sensation of "What do I do now?". He carefully removes his dick from you and pulls his jeans up, zipping up his pants while you straighten your dress and search for your panties in the middle of the dark. Both without saying a single word.

Graham clears his throat, glancing at the mirror behind the door and seeing his state was deplorable. His face reddened by the heat and his hair a perfect mess. You were in no better situation than him.

“Uh,” Graham said a long time later, breaking the silence. “How long is that arrangement supposed to last?”

"I won't count the time." You responded calmly. 

He nods, mystified by you. 

#graham coxon #graham coxon x reader #graham x reader #britpop #smut #imagine #reader insert #blur #blur band #90s

[lieslidoo]

The beauty in the mundane Howl Jenkins X Painter!OC

Part 1: an uncharacteristically early start.

this is really not book or movie accurate I just like the characters so like, MAJOR cannon divergence, love y’all. Have mercy on my soul dear reader, for I have not proofread this fic.

Far beyond the bustling coasts of Porthaven and the lush greenery of the folding valley lay the small village of North Bexley. Surrounded by two mountains of admirable size, it stood snugly as if it had always been there, and as far as Agatha Havenglow was concerned, it had. 

Miss Havenglow was perhaps one of the most well known inhabitants of this charming Hamlet. Had you gone to the village folks and asked about her, many of them would have told you that she was a strange young girl who would have been unbearably lonely if it wasn’t for her sister, Emily Havenglow. 

Some of them, more knowledgeable, might show you around the town and point out the many things she had painted : various hanging signs, storefronts, advertisements and the occasional mural. And If you had asked Mr. Tailor, the town’s baker ( who funnily enough married the village tailor’s eldest daughter Ann) he’d tell you she was “too good for this small town” and that  “She ought to leave us for South Bexley”, by which he’d mean that she should leave North Bexley for better, bigger towns and not, as it may seem, the actual town of South Bexley, which has, as of yet, not been located (and nor do I believe it ever will be). He might then point you in the direction of the Havenglow’s home, at the edge of Silverkeep lake more commonly known as North Bexley Orphanage, where our story begins.

On the first day of the month of may, Agatha was getting an uncharacteristically early start to her busy day. She put on the pair of woolen socks Mrs. Havenglow had gifted her for their last birthday and threw her shawl around her shoulders. The dark herringbone floor creaked as she moved to her nightstand and picked up her journal and her charcoal pencil. And, as she had done every morning before, Agatha drew back the green velvet curtains, opened her blinds, sat on the windowsill and started to draw. She drew the camellias and Irises that Her mother loved so much and the arrowwood her sister had cared for, the wrought iron swing that her and Emily bickered over and the wooden one that Mrs. Havenglow had put in next to it in a futile attempt to bring peace to her garden. The small pond that emptied into Silverkeep lake where the children would once go to capture frogs and feed ducks. Everything held a story, a memory and try as she might, she always felt she failed to adequately draw them.

She was hard at work sketching the small tree stump on which she had once twisted her ankle when her door opened and the familiar scent of Emily’s cinnamon basil tea filled her room. “You’re up early today.”

“You’re painfully observant today.”

The girl joined her sister on the windowsill and, with her tea tray in her lap, waited for her twin to finish her drawing. She had learned a long time ago that this was to Agatha what gardening and baking was to her, her way to make sense of the world around her and to safely interact with it, and there was nothing in the world she loved more than watching her draw. After a few minutes, the pencil stopped moving and the handkerchief stopped smudging and there was peace, both in Agatha’s room and mind.

“Are you done?” “Yes.” “Let me see.” She handed her the journal and took one of the warm cups of tea in exchange. “I don’t know how you do it. It’s so…”  “So what?” “So alive.” The artist snorted at her sister’s praise and took back her journal, setting it on her dresser a bit harsher than she normally would have.  “How was the may dew?”  Agatha asked Emily, her voice still rough from sleep. 

She was referring to a strange custom the girls of Bexley had been doing for centuries. On the first morning of may, all young maidens would run out to the nearest prairie and dutifully wash their faces with the morning dew. It was a sight to behold, pretty women, all in their white nightgowns laying on the green grass and waiting for the sun to shine on them away from the hungry gaze of men and the pressures of marriage. 

“It was intimate, and invigorating.” “Did you go with the other girls?” “Of course! Praying is best experienced in the company of your peers.” “And by praying you mean rolling around in a prairie for half a sunrise?” Agatha mocked. Her sister sneered at her and dangled her legs out the window. The air was crisp and the sun was warm. 

“Oh! The bannocks!!” Emily cried out “I thought you had forgotten” “I could never! its tradition.” Agatha laughed at her sister’s earnest response to what she clearly said in jest. Try as she might she could not recall one time where her sister had forgotten a celebration ; be it holiday or name days, she never faulted. The girl handed her a small bun and took hers, raising it towards the sky. “Merry May-Day Aggie” “Merry May-Day lily.” The bread was still warm and smelled of rosemary, lavender and honey. As the bannock touched her mouth, she thought of the village fête tonight and felt a strange sense of trepidation, something that was quite rare in a village where familiarity and predictability were king. “Are you going to say yes tonight?” She asked. “To what?” “To Lawrence, are you going to say yes?” “If he proposes, yes.” Emily stated, sadness burdening her normally sweet voice “There must be something we can do, have you asked Mr. Tailor? he’ll help us, I’m sure.” “He doesn’t have the money. Lawrence is our best solution, our only solution.” There was a moment of silence and Emily braced herself for what she knew her sister would offer. This room had heard this particular argument unfold a myriad of times and for a moment, Emily was saddened that this was probably the last. “We could run.” “Aggie, no.”  “You could open an orphanage where you want, Agatha argued, you don’t need it to be in boring old Bexley” “Well I like boring old Bexley, and I love Havenglow cottage, and I won’t see it go to waste on some rich stuffy old man who will only use it in the summer.” “So you’ll marry a rich stuffy old man instead?” “Lawrence is not old.” He wasn't, not particularly

“No he’s just boring.” He was, most definitely “What a wicked thing to say!” Emily chastised. “A wickedly true thing to say. He’s not worthy of you goose.” “Agatha…” the girl softened at the old nickname, “don't start, please.” “If you just moved away to a city, even for a month,” Agatha started, “I’m sure you could see that Bexley cottage is not the be all, end all of your life, and even if you don’t, I'm sure you could find a better, handsomer, RICHER man to take Lawrence’s place.”

The girl was not wrong. Emily was certainly the most coveted maiden in North Bexley. A born homemaker, she could steal any man’s heart with her baking prowess and her angelic singing voice. Although her heart had, as of yet not been moved by anyone.

“We don’t have a month aggie, and who’ll take care of this place? Who will make sure no children are turned away?”

“We haven’t had a child in 5 years Emily.”

“Then it should happen any day now.”

“Oh for the love of god!”  Agatha exclaimed, snatching her sister’s hand with her own “Promise me, if there’s a possibility, even a small sliver of a chance you could escape this wretched, pathetic excuse for a…”

“Aggie…” Emily warned

“Marriage, you’ll take it. You’ll try.”

“Aggie, its…”

“Please, for me.”

The girl mulled it over and sighed. Emily could never say no to her sister, being the second born, she always felt like Agatha knew best and she had been shown to be right many times before. The eldest Havenglow seemed to have a sharp sense of intuition and often knew something would happen before it did (be it a stranger entering town, an unknown illness falling upon a villager or an unpredicted visitor at the cottage door). When the girls were children, Emily used to swear that Agatha possessed magic powers, but the girl relayed it to having spent all her life in a predictable and boring small community. After all, she reminded herself, sorcerers were few and far between and she would most probably never meet one in her lifetime, so the idea of her being such a creature was absolutely preposterous.

“Fine, I promise. But if by the time of his proposal I don’t have a better, safer option I will say yes, and I will go through with it. And that’s final.”

Agatha considered arguing further but, feeling the time wasn’t quite right, laid her head on Emily’s shoulder and chipped away at her bannocks.

 A heavy silence fell over the room as both of the Havenglow girls ate their breakfast, their linen nightgowns floating in the wind and their feet snuggly kept warm by the impeccable knitwork of the late Mrs. Havenglow.

Hello there, no Howl in this chapter, but lawd he coming. Had to set stuff up :)

#howl's moving castle #howl imagine #howl pendragon #howl jenkins pendragon #howl jenkins

[maletfgrowthblog]

Mountain Book [COM]

(A commission that I’ve worked on, hope you guys enjoy) When Drew got his hands on a spell book, he decided to have some fun with his friend.

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

In a small town, two men were walking down the street as they spoke to one another.

“I’m just saying, it’s a waste how Marvel made a character like Mastodon and never brought him back again.” One of the men, a short chubby man by the name of Tony said, giving his slightly plump chest a scratch as he spoke about the semi long forgotten hero.

“I know what you mean,” Tony’s friend, Drew, commented back. The other man had a more olive complexion compared to Tony’s pale tone. Drew was also slightly fatter than Tony with his graphic t-shirt and shorts stretching against his body similar to Tony’s own wardrobe.

“But considering how we have Beast and The Thing doing similar plots of trying to alter their appearance back to ‘normal’. So unless Marvel would just keep the superstrong hairy man for a new character plot, I doubt they’ll bring him back.”

“But that’s my point, it isn’t the first time they’ve rebooted characters. Hell, they’ve done it multiple times with the same characters within the same universe even.”

The two men continued their discussion on old characters as they kept walking off, both admitting disappointment in how a big, hairy man that was designed for Mastodon never made a return to the newer comic universe. This was especially disappointing as both men loved the huge man’s design, as they were attracted to the idea of immense, hirsute men.

“Well it’s a shame, maybe someday they’ll release a hot piece of ass like his for modern audiences.” Tony sighed as he and Drew approached their destination, a book store that specializes in interests. Drew had insisted to Tony about giving the place a look when they had passed it by a week ago. It seemed the store offered plenty of books from interests as harmless as cooking to the more ‘risque’ when they saw a man in a harness gear step out of the store.

“I wonder if they carry any comics. Do you have anything specific you want to read?” Tony asked, the two stepping inside and stopping at the entrance, taking in the impressive sight of bookshelves stretching out akin to a classic library rather than a niche’ bookstore that had seemed far too small outside to house such a collection.

“Well I have been getting into the Occult. Maybe I’ll see if they have any growth spells.” Drew commented, earning a laugh and a ‘that would be great’ from Tony as the two walked further into the store, glancing over the shelves and spotting some rather obscure titles that drew their attention.

“Okay, I think this is the fiction section.” Tony commented and pulled a book titled ‘Life as a Two Ton Man’, opening it up and impressed with drawings depicting a massively obese man, seeming crushing a truck under his car sized body as he chugged from a keg.

“Yeah, it is pretty weird this stuff is on display in the front of the store.” The chubby man agreed, looking over some of the titles of the books. Drew paused at the sight of a book titled ‘The Day I Became a Planet’, pulling the book out, Drew whistled at the cover alone showing a huge muscular man being orbited by planet-like objects.

Before either man could look further or decide to head out, a voice suddenly spoke up, surprising the two. Almost dropping the books they had been reading from, the two men turned around to see who had spoken to them. Looking around, Tony and Drew spotted a desk a bit further down the room, neither having seen it when they had entered. Seated behind the desk was a rather old man, a trimmed white beard framing his portly face. A button up shirt covering his body, though the buttons strained against his full chest and swollen belly, tufts of silver body hair peeking out from between the buttons. The smile on his face was inviting, reminding the young men of a kind grandfather.

“Looking for something, boys?” The older man said, smiling as the two browsing men put away the books they had glanced at, returning them to their place before stepping up to the desk the older man sat behind.

“Uh, Yeah. I was seeing if you had any comics?” Tony asked, trying not to openly stare at the huge man’s belly. Seeing the swollen, slightly jiggling orb threaten to pop off his shirt buttons. The older man couldn’t help but let out a deep chuckle before looking over a thick book beside him. The two men blinking and glancing at one another, swearing they hadn’t seen the classic looking index book by the immense elder before.

“Let’s see here, any specific comic you are looking for?” The older man, ‘Klaud’ according to his name tag that was attached to his swollen moob, asked with his eyes still on the tome he was searching through.  “I don’t really know. Have anything with big guys?” Tony said back, blinking owlishly with a light blush on his face as he realised what he had just said. The chubby man stammering to try and defend or excuse what he had admitted. Before he could embarrass himself further, the large man interrupted him with a deep chuckle whilst holding a swollen hand up.

“It’s alright boy, people have asked for worse. Let’s see… Ah, here it is.” Klaud said before standing up and leaning forward on his creaking chair before standing up, his belly spreading out over the desk like a slow tidal wave. The older man’s height towering over Tony as he pointed towards a seemingly random shelf a couple of metres away from the desk. “Plenty of big guy comics on the third shelf from the top. I hope you find something you like.” The older man smiled after giving the directions, patting the younger man on the back that forced the younger man to stumble forward. Leaving the slightly dazed Tony to see to the bookshelf, Klaud turned his gaze towards Drew, making the chubby man jump a bit. “Now, how can I help you?”

Drew blinked at the question, turning to glance over at Tony who was looking over the shelf he had been sent to. The young man seemed engrossed with one of the books. The sound of a throat clearing made Drew look back to Klaud, seeing the older man raise an eyebrow as he waited for an answer.

“Well, it’s a bit niche… and embarrassing.”

“I won't judge you boy, I’ve heard plenty of requests.”

“Well… do you have magic books.”

“Parlor tricks or to affect the laws of nature?”

“H-Huh?”  “Young man, the books in these walls hold power depending on the reader’s wish. Do you desire a book to teach you sleight of hand and simple tricks to impress your friends?” Klaud leaned forward and whispered in a conspiratorial tone like he was sharing some deep secret. “Or do you want the power to change the world, for better, or worse, or just because you want to get off?”

Drew blinked, swearing the older man’s kind eyes seemed to bore straight through him and into his very soul. Taking a quick glance back to Tony, who seemed engrossed with the book he was looking at.

“Okay… then I want magic to change things.” Drew admitted, sneaking one more look to Tony, before facing Klaud. The older man nodding before sitting back into his chair, making the piece of furniture creak ominously under him, moving to look through an old fashioned note rolex. Klaud’s thick fingers skimming over the paper cards with surprise dexterity before he stopped and pulled one of the cards out.  “This should fit your fancy. The shelf is just around the corner, book number M.420-69. You can’t miss it.” Kalud explained, passing the card to Drew whilst said young man did his best to resist the urge to giggle at the rather humorous number the book had.

Giving his thanks, Drew walked around the desk and looked for the bookshelf in question, spotting it and after a quick look over finding the book, this time openly giggling a bit as he saw the number again. However, pulling out the book and reading the title made Drew pause for a moment, trying to make sense of what he saw.

“Transformation and growth for beginners.” Drew read aloud the title, he had to admit that title alone made him excited. Not to mention some of the illustrations that decorated the cover started to pull at his imagination with what the book could supposedly do. Etchings of oddly proportioned men were spread out, each showing a hugely sized man, be it with thick arms that look to use trucks for barbells, or a guy with a swollen belly that would make kegs look tiny.

Lifting up the book, Drew gave the pages a quick flip through. The solid spine cradled in his hand as he looked over, some of the scattered pages slightly brown and crinkling with age. However, some words and illustrations that popped out to him looked too modern compared to the old looking book.

Drew paused on a page showing a suited man side to side to a huge blob like shake that took up more than half the page. Looking it over, Drew recognized the huge blob shape as the previous slim man.

“So I guess this is for some serious weight gain.” Drew commented, seeing how one of the bulges of the blib he assumed was the huge man’s moob was bigger than the original suited man’s entire body. Before Drew could read further, feeling the urge to read aloud the words, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. With a jump, and thankfully not dropping the book, Drew turned to see the impressively tall and thick figure of Klaud standing behind him, his facial hair seeming to curl up with the smile on the thicker man’s face.

“Sorry to surprise you, little guy. But if you want to really enjoy what that book can do, I suggest you and your friend head out.” Klaud said, slowly leading Drew back to the front desk, pausing to scan the book out, and then continuing to the exit. Klaud pointed out how Tony seemed to have finished his own purchase of books and had paid for Drew’s purchase too. “Now I hope you two have plenty of fun with that book you got. I recommend page Seventy-Nine for some real fun, just make sure you have plenty of space.”

“Wait, what?” Drew asked, blinking as the older man quickly handed the old style book back to Drew. Before he could ask about the page suggestion, or how the older and heftier man could seem to move so fast, both Drew and Tony were ushered out of the store with their prizes in hand.

“Well… That was weird.”

“Yeah, it was. But he had some great books, I got plenty of good comics with some huge guys in them. I mean, I haven’t even heard of some of these comics before.” Tony said with a smile on his face, holding up his collection of books with the covers showing goliath sized men clad in tight fitting lycra. “What did you get Drew?” The chubby man asked, the two friends starting to walk back home.

Drew had been thinking over what went on inside the store. Taking a quick glance behind and then looking down at his own book before facing back the eager face of Tony.

“It’s a surprise.” Drew said, ignoring the almost childish whine from Tony, already Drew was thinking what he could potentially do with the spells he now had access to.

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

“Right, so those are the spells.” Drew said in his room, having spent his time following coming home by just looking through the different spells that the book offered him. Of course, all of the incantations focused on the transformation of the human body, all with immense results. Leaning back in his old desk chair, Drew glanced over the list of spells he had written out beside the book, having been picking out potential spells to try out, among them including the one that Klaud had suggested for him.

“This is ridiculous.” Drew said to himself as he shook his head, it was impossible for spells to really work. But that little thought of the spells actually causing growth, even if just a pipe dream, was too tempting for him. “Maybe I should just test one of the spells.” The thought flashed through Drew’s mind. Latching on to it, Drew grabbed the book and flipped through to a random page before making his way to the window and looking out for a random target.

Taking a glance outside, Drew’s eye fell across the street on a random man who seemed to be waiting for the bus. His slim figure was fairly outlined by the sharp dress shirt and slacks he was wearing. Drew kept an eye on him, figuring he wasn’t much older than him, before going back to the spell book and settling on a spell.

‘A weight gain spell. Can’t really beat the classic stuff.’ Drew thought out figuring any growth could be explained away as just metabolism before he read over the steps the spell required. Seeing all he needed to do was focus on his target and not break his line of sight, Drew turned back to the man before saying aloud the spell. Watching the suited man standing by the curb, Drew could only stare, not expecting anything, before his eyes widened at the sight occuring. Watching on, Drew witnessed the man starting to swell outwards like he was inflating. The loose shirt started to tighten with his body broadening out, arms and legs thickening with a look of his swelling ass taking up his backside. Surprisingly, the man seemed unaware of doubling his weight in mere seconds, though he seemed to have begun to sweat profusely.

Another thing that Drew noticed was the man’s clothing looked to be growing with him, seams that had begun to stretch and give up repatching and stretching further, his shirt gaining more buttons as his belly and moobs expanded forward looking like a blimp. Even from the window Drew could see the man’s belt elongating before suddenly being replaced with two belts doing the job of holding up his ridiculously large pants that covered his lower belly, dividing the swell of fat. The growing sacks that were his moobs pushing up the thick slabs of blubber that were his arms. One of the thick limbs rising, revealing the spreading dark patch of sweat that was forming, as a baseball mitt sized hand reached to the growing man’s face to wipe sweat off his forehead. Drew watched the huge man’s face, seeing his neck gone and replaced by a thick ring of fat that fused with his chin. His swollen cheeks resembled the stuffed cheeks of a squirrel, forcing his panting mouth into a pout. Staring at the huge man that rivalled cars in size, Drew felt his eyes ache before finally blinking, when he opened them up and seeing the enormous man had ceased growing. His swollen belly and gigantic ass stretching his clothing as both rested on the ground despite the man seeming to be standing up.

“Holy Shit!” Drew said under his breath, watching the enormous car sized man trying to waddle down the street. Seemingly unaware of suddenly becoming the world’s heaviest land mammal as each broad step saw to the pavement cracking under his larger feet. Still staring at the gargantuan mass of man waddling away, Drew realized with the spell book he could do anything. Quickly flipping through the pages, he stopped on the one he was suggested by Klaud, already thinking of the perfect person to use it on.

“Oh, Tony will enjoy this.”

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

“Hey Tony, you mind getting some empty files from the store room?”

“Oh, sure thing Maurice.” Tony said before pushing back his chair and standing up. The chubby man couldn’t help but take the chance to stretch. His job at the office whilst paying well, unfortunately saw to times where he’d be sitting down for long stretches of time. Though his growing belly pushed out a bit from his shirt, Tony had to admit he relished those moments where he could get up and move about.

Stepping out of his cubicle, Tony kept adjusting his stance and moving from foot to foot. Lately he had been feeling off, his clothing that had fit perfectly the night before were feeling tighter than usual.

“Must have shrunk in the wash.” Tony rationalised, not realising how that logic doesn’t apply to his shoes. Trying to ignore the slight pinch with each step, Tony made his way through the hallway of cubicles. Getting to the store room, Tony couldn’t help but sigh as he saw the step ladder wasn’t in the room where it should have been.

“Come on.” He groaned before stepping to the shelf the file boxes were on, not looking forward to standing on his toes and trying to reach into the shelf. Instead Tony was surprised to find himself eye level with the shelf. Not questioning it, the portly man found it easier to reach for the box files, though he couldn’t help but feel the back of his shirt tighten along with the fabric round his arms.

“Here are those files you wanted.” Tony said as he handed them off before returning back to his seat. Taking a breath and wiping sweat off his forehead. “Did someone turn up the thermostat?” Tony leaned back in his creaking chair before a ‘Ping’ made him freeze. Glancing over his chest towards the desk he saw a lone button against the base of the monitor. Looking down at himself, Tony saw where it came from as his shirt now had an opening exposing more of his hairy flesh.

“Man, I’ve really been snacking.” Tony said, blushing a bit at the sight of his exposed belly, though he noticed a stirring and tight feeling just under his belly that made his light blush darker. Before he could focus on how he seemed to be growing, his mobile gave off a ring that he had gotten a message. Struggling a bit to pull the device out of his tight pocket, Tony felt a smile creep up his face as he saw the message came from Drew.

‘Hey man, want to meet for a meal later? My treat.’

Tony responded back saying sure, though he found himself struggling to type as his fingers pressed different letter keys at the same time. Tony hoped his phone wasn’t breaking, before putting it aside and getting back to work, looking forward to the dinner plan he made with his close friend.

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

“I wonder how Tony is enjoying the new changes.”

Drew thought to himself whilst standing outside a local buffet. The chubby man was eager to see just what the spell he cast did to Tony. Before Drew could wonder for too long, imaging his friend as the immense man he fantasized about, a voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Hey Drew.”  The voice sounded familiar but somehow different, deeper. Turning towards its source, Drew held back the urge to gasp at what he was as walking towards him was Tony, only much bigger. Standing easily at more than eight feet tall, the huge man walked closer to Drew. Tony was still wearing his shirt and trousers from work, only both failed to survive the growth of their wearer. The shirt was torn open with the huge belly and chest on full display, bouncing with each step the enormous man took. His sleeves had stretched and ripped apart, showing his thick biceps as the remains of the shirt looked more like a vest, though Drew was certain the back had been torn open by Tony’s broad back. Before Drew could truly take in how Tony’s tree thick legs had torn his pants into shorts, or how his shoes were open mouth scraps with his hairy feet on display, the huge man was before him. Drew found himself face to face with his friend’s hairy belly with his thick chest over him.

“H-Hey Tony. Seems you’ve had a growth spurt.”

“Growth spurt?” Tony blinked at the comment before looking down at himself. “Oh, no. Just my clothes shrunk and I guess I moved a bit too quickly. Figured I’m still decent enough to go out for a meal.” Tony said, oblivious to the look on Drew’s face and the painfully obvious growth that had occurred to him.

“Tony, you burst out of your shoes.” Drew said, pointing down to the exposed toes of his friend as they willed out of the torn remains of Tony’s socks and shoes.

“They were an old pair.” The grown man rationalised, having to bend forward to see over his swollen torso. Tony’s chest brushing against Drew’s head as the huge man cast a shadow over him.

Figuring the spell made Tony ignorant to the clear changes, Drew decided to drop it for now, as he stepped out of his friend’s shadow and led him into the buffet, feeling the ground shake slightly with each dull step Tony took.

“How about we focus on getting a good meal.”

“Sure thing. I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.” Tony joked, though with his size, the low rumble of hunger from his belly, and the spell in place, Drew was sure he could eat the entire barn.

‘Hopefully the buffet has enough food for you.’ Drew thought before they stepped in, noticing Tony had to duck down to keep from bumping his head against the doorframe. The staff and other patrons didn’t seem at all concerned with the huge man entering, besides some grumbles from a few as the enormous Tony bumped his thick legs against some tables on his way in.

“Heh, sorry there. Just these tables are a lot closer than they used to be.” Tony said, blushing slightly as he tried to squeeze between the tables, Drew following behind and getting a good view of Tony’s ass as it kept swelling and stretching out what remained of his pants. Getting to the heating trays, Tony just grabbed a tray without a plate and began to pile food into the tray. Drew could only watch as the huge man lumbered around the stalls, taking snacks and huge mouthfuls with a ladle he swiped from one of the heating trays.

“Tastes good big boy?”

“Yeah, sorry. Couldn’t wait to sit down before taking a bite.” Tony admitted through heavy mouthfuls of food, his cheeks bulging a bit as he ate enough food in one bite that would be a ful portion size for a normal guy.

“It’s okay Tony. Help yourself.” Drew said, barely taking small bites of his own food as he watched the huge man that was Tony gorge himself, practically emptying the trays he passed by. Each bite seeing to further and further growth. His swollen belly spreading forward along with the thick sacks that were his moobs. His swollen biceps bulging with each lift of his thick arms, exposing more of his growing forest of armpit hair. Drew couldn’t keep his eyes off Tony as each movement he made saw to his growing body shifting and jiggling about.

Eventually Tony gave up trying to load food onto his tray and instead abandoned it to lift the heating dishes up and dump the contents into his mouth. The steaming meal doing little to deter the giant man with his throat bulging with each heavy gulp he took. His body surged forward with growth, swelling further as the pitiful scraps of clothing still on him tore and struggled against the growth with a glance down below the growing belly. Drew saw Tony’s underwear on full display with his trousers tearing off, the tighty whities stretched and torn into a kind of speedo, barely containing the massive bulge that was getting closer to eye level with Drew.

'This is going well.' Drew thought, deciding to sit back and watch his friend clear out the buffet as he grew with each bite. Eventually Tony took to getting on his knees, shaking the ground before sticking his large face into the trays, truly making a hog of himself as he stuck his swollen ass out. Taking his eyes off the impressive show of gluttony and growth, Drew saw that the other patrons didn’t seem bothered with the colossal man gorging himself and visibly outgrowing his clothing.

After some time, Tony tossed the final empty heating tray to the growing pile of trays before leaning back. The gargantuan man took up a good portion of the room, his thick legs knocking tables and chairs aside whilst spreading out. Tony’s broad back and swollen ass pressing against the cracking wall behind him. The enormous giant groaned deeply, opening his now beard framed mouth before a booming belch rumbled out of him, shaking the entire buffet and causing Tony’s heavy fat rolls to wobble from the force.

“Oof, that was a good snack.” The gigantic Tony said with a proud pat on his heavy dome of a belly, adding to the show of his jiggling fat. Drew looked on at the giant obese man that his friend had grown into. Thealler man walked up closer to Tony, breathing in the stench of musk th smat was coming off him.

“You cleaned the place out, big guy.” Drew said, walking towards the room filling giant, placing a hand against the wall of fat that was a tire thick fat roll that jiggled above Drew’s head. The smaller man felt his hand sink into Tony’s blubbery body.

“Well yeah, but it’s not my fault this place doesn’t have enough food for this big belly I got.” Tony chuckled deeply, rubbing his belly and causing his body to jiggle as he caressed the huge hair covered mass. Watching on, Drew could see Tony’s body was still growing, though it seemed to have slowed down now that the behemoth had stopped gorging himself. “Think we could try another place before we head home?”

Drew blinked at the question, stepping back as he looked up at Tony’s bearded face, seeing his head and broad shoulders pressed closer to the ceiling. Drew could make out how Tony was leaning forward slightly to keep from breaking through, his chin pressing into his neck fat and swollen chest. The forest of chest hair mixing together with the giant’s dense beard.

“I… you sure Tony? Might have an issue getting you outside.”

“We got me in, so it shouldn't be too hard getting out again.” The enormous giant chuckled before moving forward, grunting slightly as he began to shift his mass to get out. Drew stepped back as far as he could, pressing against the far wall, watching the giant Tony get on his hands and knees. His swollen belly dragging on the ground and crushing the remains of the furniture beneath him. Getting to the double doors, Drew took in the sight of Tony forcing his gargantuan, hairy body out of the wrecked buffet. The sound of the cracking brick and creaking metal filled the area as Tony forced his way through, giving Drew a good view of the deep hair filled charm between the wobbling and bulbous ass cheeks. Hearing the big man grunt with using more force, it wasn’t long before a harsh sound erupted as the wall holding back Tony broke apart with his huge body finally outside, though Drew could see that the now warped door frame was stuck to Tony’s body.

“Oof. They don’t make doors as strong as they used to.” Tony laughed nervously before standing up now that he had room in the street. The tarmac under his feet cracking as he shifted his weight, his impressive body rising with Drew having to step out of the ruined buffet to take in the entire body of his best friend. The smaller man couldn’t help but gasp as he took in the colossus before him. Going up Tony’s thick hairy legs, Drew finally saw the impressively sized cock that had been covered by his belly, now visible as it pressed down towards the halfway point of his thighs. The dick was easily bigger than Drew’s entire body, large heavy drops of pre leaking onto the ground, the immense body part framed by the thick forest of pubic hair and the yoga ball sized testicles that churned with the giant’s growth. Looking further up over the swollen gut, following the trail of belly hair up to the immense moobs that Drew was sure he could hide under. The metal door was straining against Tony’s broad shoulders, the metal dented from a square into a tight oval around the huge giant, before the growth spurts saw it getting tighter and tighter. The giant frowned uncomfortably struggling with the tightening metal, before with a sigh of relief announced the deformed door frame snapping off and landing a distance away, hidden by Tony’s shadow.

“Oh, that feels so good.” Tony said, his huge hands rubbing the markings the door left on him as he started moving down the street. His thick legs forced him to waddle with each step shaking the ground and causing the cars to bounce. Drew struggled to keep up as the earth shook on with his friend’s heavy foot falls. Watching on, Drew took in the sight of Tony’s broad back and wobbling ass, seeing the huge cheeks swaying getting closer to the surrounding buildings. Taking in Tony’s steadily broadening shoulders getting progressively higher and higher, Drew thought back to the spell he had cast.

‘Make the man as big as he desires.’

“Wonder just how big he’ll get.” Drew thought aloud before rushing to Tony’s growing mass, following the increasing craters his feet left before another deep belch erupted out of the giant. (Link to Deviantart :https://www.deviantart.com/fattyfatman/art/Mountain-Book-COM-842170545 )

#Weight gain #male weight gain #giant #macro #hairy #bear #belch #growth #story #SSBHM

[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.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts #bts jungkook #jeongguk x reader #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts reactions #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #badboy!au jungkook #pull me down #starryeyedgukk

[fishymom-art]

How do u created hate u girl? :o

AW YEAH, TIME TO MAKE A LOOOONG POST WITH ILLUSTRATIONS!!!!

All my stories begin with me creating a main character and then building a world around them. Same with HUGirl, but it was a liiiiittle bit funnier. In the beginning Diana was just... well, me.

Thhhat right, the original design of Diana and her character herself is how I used to draw myself back in 2016, when I first started calling myself FishyMom!

I drew myself in Ford Pines’ (from Gravity Falls, yes) outfit and with gills, because I was in Undertale fandom and I was in loooove with Undyne. I used to have a group chat with my friends who also liked Undertale and at some point they started calling me FishyMom, because I was bossy, caring and had gills, apparently. 

This design, as well as the nickname, stuck with me for a long time. At some point, I decided to make a character out of this design.

I called her Ford. You know. Because of the obvious thing XD. But I didn’t have a world for her yet.

Then I had a lot of things going on. In around 2014-2015 I was going to write two books about this world called Mirror World or Mirror Side. Some kind of shadows, who were assigned to you since your birth, would lead you into this world if you were unhappy. Mirror World has everything you ever wanted to have, creates a wonderful, flawless life and... brainwashes you completely into hailing the king of this world who harvests your powers to break out of the Mirror World and conquer the other side???? aka Magical Cult Kingdom, nothing else to say. 

Ford was going to be a right-hand-man of the king and had his mark on her face which meant that he sees through her eyes. But I never finished the book (in fact, I tried rewriting it 3 times and did not succeed) and didn’t really know how to put Ford in, since I already had a hecking lot of characters who were much more important to the story than she was. But she was still kinda there in the story.

(btw, the king’s name was Gaskard, which is Alex Gaskarth’s (vocalist of All Time Low) name written wrong. I didn’t know it was his name, my classmates were joking around when they said it when I was asking for a villain’s name. I was on their concert in 2017 uwu)

I was thinking about a sequel of the book at the same moment as I was still not writing the first one XD. And now it gets interesting.

In the first book, there had to be this girl, who was one of main character’s young sister and student. The second book was going to be about her and her twin brother. Her name was Elizabeth. 

The first picture is Elizabeth with her twin-brother, Noelle and second picture is the old Elizabeth.

A lot of things later, I decided to get rid of the story and make a whole new story for a sequel. But I was still left with Elizabeth. And I made her Ford. (and I made Noelle her sister instead of brother I guess...)

At this point, I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted Ford to be a scientist. I wanted her to be a warrior. I wanted her to be the characters I was inspired by when I was creating her. And I knew the story I was going to give her.

But I still didn’t have a world. And I still didn’t have a name.

And then I did a thing

There was a blog on Tumblr before hate-u-girl that had something to do with Ford. And I posted comics there. And you could or could not have seen at least one of the stupid comics I drew calling them all under the name HUGirl, which was literally Human, but a “girl” instead of “man”. And I mean this one...

my eyes hurt from the art style and from tHE AMOUNT OF NOTES IT HAS. LIKE, LITERALLY, I JUST HAD TO SEARCH FOR IT, LAST TIME I SAW THIS ABOMINATION, IT HAD 3K NOTES, DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS MY MOST VIEWED ARTWORK??? MY LEGACY???? [heavy breathing] IS IT BECAUSE I TAGGED ZUTARA THERE??? IS THIS WHY?????

- ok, screaming aside XD

Yup! That was Ford! And there was also Huboy, who then went on to be Robert! (hoooo boi....). They were partners right from the beginning!!!!

And I finally started drawing the actual comic. THIS, everybody, is two ONLY pages that were made for the first ever try on “HUGirl” comic.

Ah, they were such babies....

The main antagonist of the comic, however, was someone fully new and someone who was also first just the way I drew myself.

Fishy Mom. Yes yes, you heard it right. Fishy Mom IS a character. That’s why at some point I asked people to call me RK (Ar-Key or, for Russians, Er-Ka), because that was a little weird. And she had to be some kind of a ruler of fully re-made Mirror World!!! 

I came up with the idea of making her a villain and a separate character after I made a cover on Die House and drew her in that dress for the first time. She evolved to an entity that can transform into your biggest fears (directly or indirectly). And Ford’s greatest fear was (and still is) water and fish.

Strange and unpolished, I left the first attempt and started drawing the second one, already including my baby Adelaide, who has a much bigger role than you think and I won’t be telling it. (Oh, and Robert’s lasagna appeared there too! Me and my friends made a lot of jokes about this lasagna XDDD)

Here are some of my favorite panels!

“big power with a tiny apartment?”

Diana and Robert were going to be a couple.

it’s a toxic haze all around

LOOK AT THIS BABY!!!

+ bonus of a badass Robert.

There had to be that other character called Complete Failure who has first appeared in this animation I made. All the characters in it are “the original cast” of HUGirl and will always be. I wanted them to be the villain for some time but quickly changed my mind and put Fishy Mom back into the role of the villain. They still remained a very important character to me who you can thank for the story HUGirl is now and will be.

Then Fishy Mom (or rather F-001 aka Fishy Good/Too Good To Be True) got a HuMan FoRm!!!! Yaaaay! Because a cartoony fish in the middle of a sci-fi post-apocalyptic drama would have been pretty weird. Btw, I have no idea at which point it turned into a post-apocalyptic comic, but I had to roll with it, because I put it as genre in WebToon and Idk if I can change it and I already came up with an excuse ahhaha.

My idea was that she put experiments and tried to create humans out of magic and science (i like that mix). This is when the “HU” in HUGirl turned into Human Urge Academy (now, Haze Unity Academy), the research academy on human life, who’s role is to create more humans because they can’t produce them the good-ol’-way anymore XD. And Diana (the “F” in the beginning of every experiment meant “Ford”, btw), alongside other characters, became a part of it and Fishy Mom became Diana’s personal nemesis, who was one of the experiments and wanted to kinda break free. It was still very weird and unpolished but I loved it. I had everything planned, from the beginning to the end and everything in the middle.

The last character I came up with was Susan Whaletaker. And she was anything but the character she is now XD. She was going to be the CEO of HUA and a pretty nice person. [turns to Susan now] NICE PERSON.

I had a lot of other thinking and writing in-between, but now I know exactly what I want to do with the story. And I have all those babes on my side uwu

It’s not a full story since it would have contained a lot of spoilers, but those are all the main events hehe, thank you very much uwu

if you have any other questions, please do ask!

#hugirl #diana elizabeth newt #robert kaelan does #markus levi damon #adelaide #F-701 #Susan Whaletaker #hate u girl #fishy mom #original comic #fishymom-ask

[albatris]

Sorry in advance for the potentially dumb question, but: do you suffer from psychosis/schizophrenia? I’ve seen you reblog a lot of posts about it, of course, but i was curious. Also, if its not too personal, if you do, how much does it impact your writing/the weirdness glitchiness factor?

Not a dumb question at all, you’re all good!

So this is kinda…….. not something I’ve spoken about in a great amount of detail or specifics on this blog? And talking about it directly is actually kinda weird! I wasn’t expecting this to feel weird, but it totally does! So please excuse how long this answer took me hahahahaha

So I mean YEAH psychosis is a thing that I possess, this is a thing that resides inside my brain and occasionally outside of it………. I’m not schizophrenic, I’m more in the schizotypal realm of things, which is like….. I mean, that’s a label that best encompasses my experiences and so far it’s the only label that’s been vaguely and tentatively applied to me that’s ever really made me go “oh hey yeah that would actually explain a whole fucking lot” but like. Bits of it are still kinda wonky. Mental health is wonky, I think, generally speaking…………….

I was gonna talk a bit here about my specific experiences but, like, I really had no idea where to start with those and I don’t actually know how relevant it’d be to this question aside from being vaguely tangential in terms of psychosis………… so uhhhh I’m gonna jump ahead and talk WRITING which is WAY more in my comfort zone apparently

and oh my god this was so many words, I’m so sorry in advance, I have no idea if any of this is actually like………… super interesting? But I enjoyed the opportunity to talk about it so cheers for that! I think!

(and I’m sorry if you were expecting like………… a really short sharp sweet answer, I don’t really deal in shorts or sharps or sweets, I mostly deal in, uh………. rambling)

Rest of this post, under the cut, which I hope actually works on mobile, for the sake of your dashboards - 

So this message was an adventure for me into how the questions “How does it affect your writing?” and “How does it affect the glitchiness/horror factor?” are actually two entirely separate things. I mean, they’re two separate things because I’m assuming by “glitchiness factor” you’re thinking specifically of the stuff in my recent ATDAO posts about body horror and the unreality? In which case………… let me get to that in a moment

And since this post got super long, I’m going to start with my extremely short summed-up answer, and then elaborate on it………

In terms of how it affects my writing? In lots of direct ways!

In terms of how it affects the glitchiness and horror aspects? In some weird roundabout ways! It’s not where the horror stems from, but it’s where the response to the horror stems from and where a lot of my descriptive choices stem from! It’s not the horror, but it’s kind of the lens through which I explore the horror!

AND NOW HERE WE GO………… WORDS AHOY

So in terms of how it affects my writing, generally speaking

boring straightforward answer first:

It’s something that crops up in a super literal sense, just in that I’ve got a fair few characters who are psychotic to some degree or another, and it’s something that plays into how they relate to the world and their specific character voice and how they respond to the situations they find themselves in. 

somewhat irrelevant, it’s, uhhh….. something that I feel interacts with themes in a different sort of way, too. ‘Cause a lot of times there’s, like….. stories about people going on cool magical sci-fi quests, and there’s Stories About Psychotic People, and there’s not an awful lot of overlap between the two unless it’s in the context of “and the whole magical quest was a delusion all along!” which, ew

and for fucking REAL there is so much interesting ground to cover and opportunities for different perspectives and new avenues through which themes can be explored, like, in that overlap of stories. It’s something I wish I saw a lot more of in fiction! Which is another huge driving force in, like, why I write stuff the way I do

and now slightly more interesting:

Worldbuilding! It’s definitely something that plays into worldbuilding and like…. my love of creating stories that are kinda just……. “reality but a little bit to the left” if that makes sense? 

Whether this is something like Undertow, where there’s a degree of magic woven into the fabric of the universe, where things are connected by invisible threads, where I can give opinions to objects and feelings to the weather and the streetlights, where the earth itself has a voice? Or whether it’s something like ATDAO, where reality is coming undone at the seams and the fact that everything is just a little lopsided and haywire is a Mundane Part Of Everyday Life? That’s something I find super cathartic and quite lovely to play around in! I’ve always experienced the world as Just A Little Bit To The Left, and writing was one of the first avenues I found to kinda…. channel and explore and expand on that and put my feelings of strangeness into words?

It’s kinda, like, I like being able to share that kind of vision with others in some sort of way, and not necessarily in a frightening or horrible way, y’know? 

THIS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT TO SAY that anything I write is, like, 100% a direct mirror or my own life and how I see the world lmao. A lot of my writing takes experiences and feelings and little facets of how I experience the world and works them into something that’s often more literal and concrete, or it’ll start out as My Thing and as I’m writing, it sorta blooms into something totally different. But bits of it are in there, sure, although they change shape a lot! And it’s definitely in there with a lot of the general overarching feelings and concepts! Yeah!

One other thing that kinda leads onto my next topic is, uh…… that a lot of how I interpret events and meanings in the world around me can be kind of frightening and threatening, and that’s not reeeaaaally something I want to delve into too much in my writing from a worldbuilding perspective? So generally the parts of ATDAO’s “reality but a little to the left” that start to twist into horror and unreality are things I’ve constructed specifically to serve that purpose, more so than things I’ve pulled directly from my experiences.

AND NOW IN TERMS OF GLITCHY HORROR STUFF HELL YEAH

so again I’m assuming by “glitchiness factor” that’d be all the unreality and all the body horror stuff and weird horror? Which, fuck yeah! Despite my squeamishness when it comes to horror, this is one odd little corner of ATDAO that I’m extremely fond of hahahaha

And, like, initially when I considered this question I was like…. oh, this is not something that really has any of its roots in psychosis or my experiences of mental illness. And that’s…… kiiiiiind of true? My construction of the unreality and its contents is a lot of me just me sitting at my laptop going “Hahahaha that makes me physically nauseous! That’s the worst thing I’ve ever come up with!! I’m adding it in immediately!!”

But yeah, it definitely does factor in, though! Maybe not in as interesting a way as you’d hoped? 

So first off, my experiences are something that sorta plays into my word choice and the specific way I use language in those scenes. And I’m also gonna go ahead and say that dissociation and specifically derealisation are also things I draw from pretty heavily for those kinda……. more glitchy horror-ish parts? So for me, my experiences factor more into HOW I describe the content more so than any of the horrid glitchy gory content itself. 

‘cause it’s kinda, like, a specific kind of fear, I think, it’s a little bit off-beat and weirdly-worded and disjointed and it hits your senses all wrong, it doesn’t make an awful lot of sense but it’s still extremely real. There’s a lot of weird or unsettling bullshit that goes on in the unreality that there’s no convenient Real World Descriptive Equivalent for. Like, cityscapes made entirely of soundwaves, the aforementioned body horror stuff in earlier posts, places that are a complete and total lack of Anything where there’s not even space or colour or texture or light, senses getting all tangled up into each other, something being simultaneously bigger than the sun and smaller than an ant, voices unravelling like twine? LOTS OF WEIRD, BASICALLY

There’s no nice neat right way to describe that, and if there was, it probably wouldn’t pack the punch it needs to, yeah? But I love that kinda shit, I get to pull from a bunch of really weird sensory experiences and feelings I have no real way to articulate and I get to use language in creative ways to evoke the same feelings, the same experiences, the same sense of fear and wrongness? I get to draw from weird shit to describe a bunch of weird shit that makes NO fucking sense whatsoever and that can’t realistically be tied up with words

Point is, they’re experiences I draw from in order to Get Real Fuckin Weird With Words

and getting weird with words in this specific way is CATHARTIC as FUCK dude it’s so good, it’s one of my favourite things. This is, like, the dark edgy version of what I talked about earlier in regards to worldbuilding and me painting a nice odd vision for people to share in hahahaha

“let me take you on a nice gentle stroll through my imagination” vs me supplexing you to the ground and beating the shit out of you with a bat 

And one other thing is just……. I’m sorry, I’m super tired, this bit is probably gonna be jumbled and wordy and maybe not super relevant but uhhhhhhh

So the unreality is not something I initially drew from any particular place in my psyche, but it IS something I’ve come to construct in a specific way, and a lot of it is something I build with the questions of like…… “How does a psychotic character respond to this input?” and “What does this scenery draw out in my character and how does it challenge them?” in mind, so I guess………… in that sense, there’s definitely still a fairly big impact? But kind of in a sideways way. The unreality is not so much based on psychosis, but it’s something I use to highlight specific elements of it, I guess, but mostly in terms of the skills it draws out

‘cause like. in ATDAO the only characters who kinda get to butt heads with the unreality aside from that one random dead car driver who may or may not be vaguely half alive in a state of horrific limbo are Jacob and Tris, and like

I don’t ever really frame Tris’s psychosis as some horrible terrible thing he’s burdened with that makes life a terrible living hell 24/7 but it is, like………. something he struggles a lot with over the course of the story, both in general terms and in terms of people not taking him seriously about the Extremely Real Fantastical Nonsense that’s going on and in general being hesitant to trust his perceptions of reality. And ALSO I guess in terms of just…….. the way he relates to the fact that he’s been dragged into some Extremely Real Fantastical Nonsense? And him wrestling with how he’s supposed to believe in something like that when no one else can see the evidence and everyone is telling him he’s just crazy, and how “ridiculous interdimensional dumbass sci-fi quest” is something that’s reserved for other people, because he’s already been there like four times already and it has extremely different implications for him

In terms of mental illness, all my protags have patches of the story where they make it through kinda “in spite” of their struggles with mental illness (though that’s a sentence I fuckin hate) and other patches where mental illness is just a thing they deal with alongside whatever plots they have going on…… but their experiences with mental illness are also something that gives them specific skills and perspectives and ways of understanding the world that are invaluable, and some of the most important parts of the story are the parts where they make it through specifically BECAUSE of those skills and perspectives

Which is kind of the Whole Thing With The Unreality, that’s its whole deal

The unreality is a fucking huge turning point for Tris as a character, because it’s specifically because of his experiences with psychosis that he’s able to navigate it so effectively, it’s because of the specific skills he’s developed and the practice he’s had in similar circumstances

not, like, the SAME circumstances, but things from other contexts that kind of, transfer, circumstances where the same skills are applicable

‘cause like, turns out, he’s really good at navigating confusing frightening hellscapes where nothing makes sense and mis-stepping can get you killed, because he’s had a whole lot of practice just like. existing as a person with psychosis in a weird apocalypse world where reality is collapsing in unpredictable ways. He spends a lot of his life trying to make sense of reality and figure out the rules and developing countless systems for navigating the world safely, which he often needs to adjust at a moment’s notice, or completely scrap and reconstruct. He’s had a lot of experience of just sorta waking up and whatever bullshit is going on he’s just gotta be like “ok cool so this is what we’re doing today, I have to deal with this, so how can I deal with this”. He’s used to grounding himself and problem-solving even under intense pressure and when he’s terrified and regardless of whatever objectively horrifying nonsense is happening around him. He’s used to sorting the horrifying things that are not dangerous from the horrifying things that are extremely dangerous.  

He’s basically the one character who can get tossed into the unreality and actually work with it and figure out the rules even though everything is screaming and glitched out and trying to kill him, he’s spent most of his life developing the perfect skill set for it

(and like, this is the first point in the story where he sorta realises that his specific way of viewing the world is going to be a strength rather than a weakness, but like. despite the fact that Tris is basically a walking panic attack he’s actually always been the one of the team who’s been the most adept at navigating daily life with the apocalypse, it’s just not something he’s ever really picked up on)

and uh

that’s kind of a vaguely irrelevant note to end on, actually

HEY THAT WAS SO MANY WORDS I’M SO FUCKING SORRY

I DON’T EVEN HAVE A NEAT WRAP UP TO THIS POST

MY WRAP UP WAS THAT SUMMARY AT THE START

IF YOU READ THIS FAR I HOPE IT WAS AT LEAST SOMEWHAT INTERESTING

#Anonymous #to clarify: i'm not at all opposed to talking about my own personal experiences with psychosis but also #i feel like that would just make this post too rambly and rambly in the incorrect direction #atdao #undertow #psychosis #schizotypal #long post #probably also not as well-edited as i'd like there's bits of this that i've missed and bits that are just real poorly worded #also in terms of like. characters? #there were super super super early versions of tris i wrote when i was much much younger where he like #clearly experienced psychosis but it wasn't something i registered at the time cuz i just assumed #that level of paranoia was a totally normal thing that everyone dealt with #lmao #anyway. well. that sure was some words! #i'm going to go sit in the dark now #i'm so glad that kit is still hilariously underdeveloped in terms of his plotline otherwise i would have probably #gone on a several paragraph ramble about him too #djhfdfkjhgskdfjg #''hi i'm logan what the fuck is a filter''

[thesublemon]

Jungle Fever (1991)

Watched Jungle Fever (1991) the other night, Spike Lee’s take on the (1991) state of interracial relationships. It didn’t feel as ruthlessly focused and still-relevant as Do The Right Thing, although several parts of the movie do feel like watching a present-day twitter debate. I’m not the right person to make calls about relevance, really. But it was compelling to me as an example of how to make art about a social issue in a way that feels complicated and challenging, regardless of what the issue might be. I’ve rarely seen a movie so explicitly political that was also so determined to not draw an exact conclusion. And yet it still leaves you satisfied that the movie did what it set out to do. The lack of conclusion didn’t feel aesthetically cowardly or morally wishy-washy. It felt right.

And a lot of that, I think, is down to the set-up of the story. The premise is that a well-to-do (dark-skinned) black man, happily married to a (light-skinned) black woman, with a kid, cheats on his wife with his white (Italian) secretary. The affair is quickly discovered, provoking everyone around them to air their many and various grievances about race and relationships. Meanwhile the protagonist’s older brother, a shiftless drug addict, lurks around the edges of the movie making increasingly desperate and invasive demands for money.

The reason that this set-up is so smart, is that it starts everyone—including the audience—from a place of judgment. It’s easy to use art to argue that interracial relationships are obviously good, and that people who judge them are obviously bad, when the relationship is a pretty Hollywood story of two people in epic, star-crossed love. It’s harder when you’re talking about an adulterous affair that is based, in large part, on racially fetishistic desire. Similarly, it’s easy to say that a family--or more broadly, a society--should support their children when that child is a successful architect who has made a single sexual mistake. It’s harder when that child is a chronic liar on a downward spiral that threatens to bring his instability into a family’s superficially safe, middle-class home.

In other words, the movie deliberately focuses on characters that its audience might not immediately find sympathetic, that people might have legitimate reasons to think are disturbing some social order. And doing this accomplishes two kind of amazing things. First, it gives all of the characters permission to speak their minds about what’s going on. If someone is racist, the unsympathetic circumstance gives them an excuse to be racist. But it also, for example, gives the protagonist’s wife, Drew, an opportunity to articulate the raw pain of her particular socio-sexual experience with race. It means that multiple realities will be true. Multiple perspectives will sound sort of wrong, and sort of right. You find yourself thinking that what someone is saying is a real, fair point to make, but not necessarily relevant to event that prompted it. Second, using unsympathetic characters means that any humane conclusions that the audience ends drawing will have been fully earned. People don’t need to be virtuous to be human. An interracial relationship doesn’t need to be perfect to be something that’s fine to do, or at the very least, something that one should not be legally or socially punished for solely for being interracial. The juxtaposition of adultery with an interracial affair forces one to articulate the difference between something that is unethical, and something that is merely, in a particular time and place, taboo. 

(I say unsympathetic, but it really should be “unsympathetic.” The characters actually are sympathetic, but they’re sympathetic because they’re complexly written, not because the audience has been cheaply manipulated to like them.)

It also helps that the movie understands and addresses the bigger anxieties that cause human beings to be so damn tribal in the first place. If the movie were purely about interracial relationships, it would not have featured Gator, the drug addict brother, so prominently. Instead, the movie seems to be more about questions of security and belonging. It’s about both the fear of being cast out of society, and the fear that something will undermine the society that exists. It seems to suggest that the reason that people are afraid of interracial relationships is similar to the reason they’re afraid of adultery, and afraid to admit to adultery--and also, afraid of addicts and the otherwise abject. It’s the fear that your unit will be disrupted. That base human instincts and outside influences will corrupt the social fabric. Though the movie also loves pointing out the irony of the way that the fear of social disruption leads families to destroy themselves more than they ever would otherwise. Angie’s father throws her out of her house. Flipper’s father, who is heavy-handedly named The Good Reverend Doctor Purify, ends up shooting Gator. On the other hand, when Drew kicks Flipper out of their house, or sobs while having sex when he finally comes back, it’s clear that this damage to his domestic unit is entirely his fault. In other words, the movie treats the fear of instability as simultaneously rational, misplaced, and as a destructive, self-fulfilling prophecy. 

(Really there are so many levels and instances of on the other hand with this movie, that you could just keep going. I’m not doing justice to how much ambiguity there really is, especially when it comes to Flipper’s anxieties about status and belonging. One of the reasons he gives for ending the affair is that he doesn’t want to have mixed-race kids who don’t fit in anywhere, who won’t belong. On the one hand, given the speech his wife gives about being mixed, and given Flipper’s outcast state at that point in the movie, that fear is not necessarily irrational. But on the other hand, the actual reason he ends the affair is because he doesn’t love Angie. And if he isn’t around for the child he already has, that’s on him. On the one hand, Flipper claims that he and Angie were really only interested in each other because of their race, but on the other hand, Angie is genuinely taken aback at this suggestion. Or, at one point in the movie there’s a very hard-to-watch scene in which Flipper and Angie are playfighting against the hood of a car, when the police suddenly show up and try to arrest him, saying that someone had reported an attempted rape. Flipper of course is scared out of his mind, shouting at Angie to stop telling the police that they’re lovers. On the one hand, Flipper’s fear is completely justified--the officers in the scene are the ones that killed Radio Raheem in Do The Right Thing--and it’s clear that Angie can’t even conceive a world in which the simple fact of them being lovers would be equated with rape, and punishable by death. But on the other hand, the playfight is shot in a genuinely ambiguous way, and the police accept their mistake pretty quickly. The dual reality that police can fail society by being violently racist and by being negligent is allowed to just sit there. On the one hand, you add these examples up, and you could say that the movie implies that a lot of Flipper’s racial anxiety is only in his head. But on the other hand, the beginning of the movie shows Flipper failing to get a very deserved promotion, and it’s pretty clear that the main reason he doesn’t is because he’s black. There’s a reason his name is Flipper: this is a movie and a character that flips between sides.)

Point is, whether or not Jungle Fever is a movie that people would still see themselves in, it is a fine example of how to make a movie that tackles contentious social issues in general. My takeaway was that, when making art about a social issue, consider:

1. Using ambiguous examples, and/or examples that an audience is not likely to be charitable towards. And then finding the human side of that example.

2. Using more than one example.

3. Letting people with different stakes in the issue articulate those stakes.

4. Having people be right, but wrong, and wrong, but right.

5. Going a level up, and seeing what bigger ideas encompass the issue you’re exploring.

All of which, really, are probably good ideas for any sort of story, political or not. The failure-mode of social issue art is propaganda, when the desire to persuade leads an artist to depict the world in a moralistically simple way. Watching the movie, it’s clear that Spike Lee has his own attitudes about what he’s depicting. But by complicating and contextualizing those attitudes, he avoids propaganda and creates something that is entirely literary. And ends up potentially more persuasive as a result.

#posts: art #movies: jungle fever

[ryqoshay]

How to Handle a Nico - Even Under a Love Curse, There’s No Way I Would Be Like This

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~1.5k Rating: T Time Frame: Maki is in med school. Nico is working as an idol producer. They are living together as a couple, but not married yet. Story Arc: Stand Alone

Author’s Note: I must thank VNVdarkangel for help in giving a title to this chapter; I was honestly stumped. But this title gives it un certain anime’esque je ne sais quoi, if you will.

“Manga?” Maki asked, glancing over at the tablet her girlfriend was holding. “Haven’t seen you read that kind of stuff in a while.”

“Doujin.” Nico corrected, swiping to advance the page.

“Same difference?”

“In art style, sure, but not in publication.”

“Hrm… Hey, that girl looks like… me?”

Nico giggled.

“And why is she… What the heck?”

Nico laughed heartily.

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s my doujin, Maki-chan.”

“You drew a doujin?”

“Well, no, I actually commissioned it.” Nico amended. “And this is really just a proof of concept, not her finished product.”

“Her?”

“The artist I commissioned. She’s a former school idol, which is how I came across her work.” Nico explained. “One of her friends from that group works with Egao now.”

“Hrm…”

“She’s been drawing her own doujin for a little while now but hit a snag and decided to take a small hiatus. During that time, she opened commissions and I liked her work, so I got one. Uhm…” She scrolled through a folder. “Here it is.”

“You had her draw us from one of our old photoshoots?”

“Uh huh. Cute, isn’t it?” Nico grinned. “Brings back memories.”

“Yeah…” Maki studied the drawing on display. “I remember liking that set.”

“Anyway, the picture gave me some ideas, so I reached out to her again and asked if she’d be willing to work a bigger project.” Nico switched back to the doujin. “And this is what we came up with. Wanna read it?”

“Sure.” Maki accepted the tablet. It felt odd reading a story about a fanciful version of herself, but the artwork immediately pulled her in. “What the heck? ‘How to Handle a Maki’? I don’t get it. What kind of title is that?”

“A fitting one. Nico is left trying to figure out how to deal with Maki’s curse, after all.”

“Curse?”

“Sorry, spoilers…” Nico held up her hands apologetically.

Maki pursed her lips. For some reason, the name bugged her more than it probably should. Perhaps it was because it sounded familiar? But why would it be familiar? Odd…

“And Nozomi is in this too?” She asked after a few pages.

“Yup.” Nico confirmed. “And Eli. And Kotori. Umi, Rin and Hanayo have only been mentioned in name thus far, but they’ll probably appear later. I forget what her girlfriend had planned for Honoka.”

“Girlfriend?”

“The artist’s girlfriend is really into fantasy games and whatnot. She’s been a big help in coming up with ideas for worldbuilding, character design and plot points. There are a couple Easter egg jokes and references to gaming that were her suggestions.”

“I see.” Maki continued to read. “Wait, do I still think you’re younger than me?”

“Maybe?” Nico shrugged. “Not really sure how to take care of that just yet. Maybe it can just happen off panel at some point.”

“And one meal is all it took for me to become obsessed with your cooking?”

“Are you gonna deny that’s what happened in real life?”

Maki deadpanned at her girlfriend, earning a laugh.

“Well, maybe not just one…” The redhead tried to save face.

“Then definitely by the second.” The raven-haired girl decided.

“… Maybe…” Maki conceded.

“Nico knows how much Maki-chan loves her cooking.”

Well, there really was no denying that fact.

“Did they have coffee in medieval times?” Maki inquired a moment later.

“No idea.” Nico admitted. “But I know Maki-chan can’t face the day without it, I figured just alluding to it without naming it might work.”

“I suppose…” Maki furrowed her brow. “Are you trying to scam or cheat me?”

Nico blinked in confusion until she saw the page. “Nico is a professional saleswoman!” She huffed. “She would never cheat a customer. She knows Maki-chan can afford better gear than your average novice adventurer and she knows what upgrades will be most beneficial.”

“Also, what’s a grue?”

“An excuse to force players to bring light sources, I guess.” Nico shrugged. “That’s one of those gamer jokes I mentioned.”

“And the gazebo?”

“Another joke.”

“I see. And why does Kotori have a lion?”

“She’s a Beastmaster.”

“Ok, but again, why a lion?”

“Because she had one in the original photoshoot.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right, she did.” Maki’s memory was jogged a bit. “She was part of the focus pair, with Eli, right?”

Nico nodded. “And you were paired with Rin as the secondary.”

“Is that why I’m friends with her here?”

“Rin? Not really, I don’t think.” Nico shook her head. “I mean, yeah, you two are friends, but through Hanayo. I think they’ll appear in the next chapter and we’ll get to explore how you know each other better.”

Maki nodded and continued to read. “Say, why don’t you call the harpy what it is?”

“Because you don’t know what it is.”

“Yes, I do.” Maki furrowed her brow.

“I mean your character doesn’t”

“Why wouldn’t my fantasy character know what a harpy is when she lives in a fantasy world where they actually exist?”

“Because she was raised in the city and is only now becoming an adventurer.” Nico explained. “She’s not ignorant, she just knows stuff better suited for an urban life as opposed to someone out in the rural areas. Not much different than real life, right?”

“I suppose…” Maki reached the part she had seen earlier and frowned. Her girlfriend noticed and giggled. But upon seeing the next page, she sighed. “Ok, the glomping was one thing, but climbing into bed with you? After having barely known you a day?”

“Two days, I believe.” Nico pointed out, ignoring the deadpan stare directed at her. “And it’s because of the curse.”

“Yeah, but even under a love curse, there’s no way I would be like this.”

Nico smirked.

“What?”

“I should really record you drunk sometime.”

“I still…”

“Oh, c’mon, Maki-chan, I’ve even told you about your drunken clinginess before.”

“Mmm…”

“And your half-asleep clinginess.”

“…”

“And your…”

“Alright, alright, I get it…” Maki didn’t want to admit the memories that were swirling around in her head.

“I’ve always found it cute, by the way.” Nico pointed out.

“You’re not finding it cute here.”

Nico chuckled. “That’s because it isn’t real, it’s because you’re under an idol curse.”

“You mean a love curse.”

“An idol curse.”

Maki rolled her eyes. “Are you intentionally baiting me into making a snarky comment about idols?”

“Maybe.” Nico stuck out her tongue.

Maki sighed. “And let me guess, you’re going to have me be all embarrassed about it later.”

“Well that’s how Maki-chan is in real life. And a flustered Maki-chan is an adorable Maki-chan.”

As if on cue, Maki could feel heat in her cheeks. She really should be used to Nico’s teasing by now, but the older girl rarely failed to get a reaction out of her. And though she wasn’t fond of how predictable her reactions were, she couldn’t really fault Nico for seeking them. After all, Maki also loved Nico’s own flustered expressions.

“So,” Nico asked as the last page was reached “what did you think?”

“It was entertaining.” Maki admitted. “Was this posted online?”

“Not yet.” Nico shook her head. “She just sent this to me for approval. She hasn’t even posted it on her own site yet.”

“Hrm…”

Nico chuckled. “Don’t worry, anyone at the hospital who reads this kind of stuff will like it and won’t think you’re weird or anything.”

It never ceased to amaze Maki how well her girlfriend could read her.

“But we can keep it private if we want.” Nico added.

“No, it’s fine, I guess…” Maki decided. “And you said there was going to be another chapter?”

“Or Two. Or more. Depends on how many ideas we have.” Nico grinned. “Because you know we can’t leave things like this. We can’t let Maki-chan only love Nico because of a curse! It needs to be natural! Just like in real life.” She leaned over to nuzzle into her girlfriend’s side. “Although even if we’re trying to keep things realistic, we also can’t keep the readers waiting for years…”

Maki furrowed her brow as she realized what Nico meant. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know. I know” Nico interrupted, making dismissive motions with her free hand. “Maki-chan’s just a little romantically dense is all. And we figured things out eventually and got together and we’re all good now.” She turned her head and pushed herself up so she could plant a kiss on the redhead’s cheek.

“Uhm… You know it’s getting kind of late…” Maki said softly.

“Hmm?”

“Well, I have class in the morning and…”

Nico grinned. “Is Maki-chan hinting that she wants to climb into bed with Nico?”

“Maybe…”

Nico laughed. “Maki-chan is being unusually shy tonight. She has no trouble seducing Nico but is embarrassed to request a snuggle session?”

Maki pouted, earning more laughter.

“So, to bed it is.” Nico said, pushing herself up and off the couch. “But how about a bath first?” She turned to offer a hand to her girlfriend.

“Alright.” Maki agreed, accepting the help up before following Nico down the hall.

Author’s Notes Continued in Followup Post

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #How to Handle a Nico #Love Live #fanfic

[princess-of-luxure]

Masquerade [1]

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You moved to the capital city, Altadellys, in search of job opportunities. You had anticipated several significant changes in your life, but nothing could have prepared you for almost getting robbed in an alley, only to be saved by a mysterious masked vigilante. Their mysterious appearance throws your life into chaos, and you soon find yourself swept up in the high-stakes underground operations of a group of... supervillains?!

You didn't ask for any of this, but there's just as much excitement amongst the potentially lethal drama. As secrets hundreds of years olds begin to unfold before you, can you be the missing link in solving a dangerous mystery, or will you bring everything to ruin?

Fandom: Reigning Passions (Visual Novel) Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Gen (so far) Characters: Lyris (Reigning Passions), Main Character (Reigning Passions), Amara (Reigning Passions), Piama (Reigning Passions), Hazel (Reigning Passions) Content Warnings: Attempted Robbery, Knives

Welcome to Masquerade! This is a reader-interactive story putting the characters of Reigning Passions into the setting of Villainous Nights. There will be choices for you guys, as the audience, to vote on, which can influence the direction of the story's plot (including the potential deaths of characters!) and also can influence who gets together with who. It's assumed that everyone is poly so don't worry if MC doesn't get together with your favourite LI - you've still got a shot! Plus, any characters with compatible sexualities can get together if you nudge them in that direction, so if you're a fan of, say, Amara and Xenia? Depending on the choices made, they can totally get together.

This is cross-posted on my AO3, which you can find here! You can cast your vote in the comment section there, or send me an ask/DM me here on tumblr! You can also vote in the replies of the appropriate tumblr post for each chapter.

Chapter below the read more.

Altadellys, you were finding, was bigger than you had ever imagined. Prior to moving to the capital city of Lysende, you had lived in a small town so remote it didn’t even have a name. Everybody knew everybody in your little community, but looking around the big city, you only saw the faces of strangers, not a single one sparing you a glance as they rushed to where they were going.

It was also far warmer in Altadellys than in your hometown, you noted as you shucked off your coat and tied it around your waist. The climate where you’d come from was so frigid that it was practically winter year-round, and you were eager to learn what a true spring or fall felt like, let alone a true summer.

“Alright, all you’ve gotta do is make it to Hazel’s place, and then she’ll walk you to your apartment,” you muttered to yourself, fishing around blindly in your bag. “She said it’s near Central Park, which shouldn’t be too hard to find, just follow the map.” Your fingers closed around the object you were looking for, and you pulled out your phone, attitude bright and chipper. “You’ve got this!”

These turned out to be famous last words, as you went to turn on your phone and found that the battery had died on the car ride here. “Shit,” you muttered, because, well, it was an appropriate word for the situation. Chewing your lip, you tossed your phone back into your bag and glanced around. To a local, you were sure finding Central Park would be no problem, but you weren’t a local.

Wait, a local! That’s it! Approaching a man in his late twenties walking a dog, you gave your friendliest smile. “Excuse me, could you—”

“Get lost, lady,” the man growled, and you flinched, drawing back. No one in your hometown behaved so aggressively, their voices dripping with venom as they bared their teeth in a snarl.

Swallowing your fear, you clutched onto the strap of your bag, trying to appear more confident than you felt. Maybe you had just gotten off on the wrong foot. “Sorry to disturb you, I just wanted to ask—”

“Didn’t you hear me?” The man jabbed a finger at you, and you stumbled back a few paces, squeaking. “I said, get. Lost.”

You hid your burning cheeks and frightened expression in the curtain of your hair, mumbling out apology after apology. After several minutes of this, you realized the man had left and was nowhere to be seen, so you lifted your head and took another look around. Every intersection was plastered with signs, but none of them seemed to point towards Central Park, and given your last interaction, the idea of asking a local suddenly seemed a lot less viable.

You fiddled with your hair as you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. Rather than being a beautiful new wonder, Altadellys now just seemed like a living nightmare. “It’s okay, you’ve got this,” you mumbled, your half-assed attempt at a pep talk doing little to restore your confidence. “It’s a big park in the middle of the city. If you just keep walking, you’re sure to find it eventually.”

After what felt like an hour of walking with no change in scenery, your faith in that assumption was beginning to waver. You wrestled with your steadily increasing anxiety as you stopped at the corner of an intersection. Warmth and mouth-watering scents seeped out from underneath the door of the cafe you were stood by, and your stomach rumbled as you found yourself wishing you were inside. God, what I wouldn’t give to be sharing a cup of coffee with Hazel right now.

“Hey there little girl, are you lost?” You nearly jumped out of your skin as you whirled to face the person who had spoken. Most of their face was obscured by their black hoodie, but you could still make out the leer that painted itself across their features.

You swallowed, taking a step back. The stranger took a step forward, and as you continued to try and put space between the two of you, you became hyper aware that they were backing you into a dark alley, out of sight from the rest of the world. “U-Um, no, not lost at all! Just… enjoying the scenery!” Why did my phone have to die now?!

“The scenery, huh?” You were pressed up against a wall now, the stranger’s hand pinning you up against the stone. You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, your breathing verging on hyperventilation as you stared up at your assailant with wide eyes. “It would be a shame if that was cut short.”

Those last words were a whisper, as cold and smooth as the metal blade now pressed against your throat. You couldn’t even squeak, fear stealing the sound from your lungs. You began praying to every deity you could think of, even ones you weren’t even sure were actually from real pantheons, anything to get out of this mess.

“Robbing pretty girls in dark alleys?” A new voice made your heart jump—whether it was in relief or further fear, you didn’t know. It evidently startled your attacker just as much, the surprised flinch of their hand just barely nicking your skin. A single bead of blood welled to the surface, but you didn’t have time to process it before your assailant was being pulled away from you. You remained frozen in place, too shaken to fully comprehend what was unfolding before you.

When you finally came out of your shock, the first thing that occurred to you was holy hell was your savior attractive. His face was partially obscured by a blue-green mask, trimmed with gold and decorated with what were, as far as you could tell, real peacock feathers, but you could still see the steely glint in his mismatched eyes. One was purple, the other gold, and you would’ve probably wondered how in the world he got lucky enough to end up with that genetic combination if you weren’t so busy taking in the rest of him. He was certainly a striking figure, with long golden-brown and green hair, a simple but somehow still shockingly elegant suit to match his mask, and fingerless gloves revealing blue and pink nails (toxic masculinity who?).

All of this paled in comparison to the wings that emerged from the slit on the back of his suit. The shining green plumage made him look like some kind of majestic angel, or bird. Actually, considering the look of his mask, you were pretty sure he was going for the latter.

Your savior said something to the would-be robber that you didn’t quite catch, still feeling in a somewhat faraway daze. Whatever it was, it sent them running, the masked vigilante folding his arms and watching them go with a look of utmost contempt. When they disappeared from sight, he turned to you, approaching with slow, gentle footsteps, the concerned look in his eyes at odds with the easy smile that curled his lips.

“That was a pretty nasty experience. I wouldn’t want to be in your position,” he commented, his tone casual as though he was discussing the weather, and not the fact he’d probably just saved your life. His expression shifted as he came to pause in front of you, gaze flickering to your neck. “Are you okay?”

Numbly, you placed two fingers to where you’d been cut. They came away wet with blood, but even so, you could tell that the injury was shallow—you’d gotten incredibly lucky. “I’ll—I’ll be fine. It’s not serious.” Your voice quavered, barely able to force the words out.

Your savior didn’t seem entirely convinced. “May I see anyway?” he requested, and moving on autopilot, you tilted your head to show him the cut. He stepped closer, fingers brushing against your throat as he inspected your injury, and you tried to ignore how the simple contact sent shivers down your spine. After a moment that lasted both eternity and no time at all, he drew back, humming in satisfaction. “You’re right. It’s not that bad, you’ll survive.” Apparently content with your health, you saw a teasing gleam enter his gaze. “I’d do more, but my power isn’t exactly to do with healing.” He fluttered his wings once to prove his point, and that’s when the reality of the situation came crashing down onto you.

“Your power. You have powers.” The words came out in a breathless rush, and you were completely helpless to stop them. You clapped your hands to your mouth, but too late; you felt the heat rising to your cheeks already. Leave it to you to make an absolute fool of yourself in front of an attractive guy.

He didn’t seem to mind though, evidently amused as he folded his arms, shifting his weight to one leg. “Well, I sure hope so. If I didn’t, my entire life would be a lie.” With the danger gone, he bantered with you in the way one might banter with a best friend, nevermind that you’d never seen him before.

You had enough grace to not try to continue that thread of conversation. “What’s your name?” you blurted out, and as your question processed, you felt your blush darken. You know what? No more talking without permission from my brain, mouth.

Your savior chuckled, pulling you out of your flustered thoughts. “My name is a secret I’m going to take to my grave,” he replied, and yeah, fair. What else were you expecting? “However…” He leaned forward to whisper in your ear, close enough that you could feel his breath tickle your neck. “You may call me Peacock.”

In a single breath, he had drawn back, leaving you struggling to collect your scattered thoughts and calm your racing heartbeat. First things first. His alias was Peacock—unsurprisingly so, given his general aesthetic and the prideful smirk that curled his lips. He was evidently playing things up for the drama, and you couldn’t honestly say you minded.

“I’m…” You took a deep breath to try and scrape together at least some of your composure. Once you felt like you weren’t about to faint from the situation, you finally offered Peacock your name.

He repeated your name back to you, humming in curiosity as you nodded. “A lovely name indeed,” he complimented, and you felt your cheeks burn. So much for composure, but then again, he probably said that to all the girls he rescued. Seeing the intensity of his gaze, though, you weren’t so sure.

You almost missed when he started speaking again, too wrapped up in your flustered thoughts. “...you going, little lady?”

You were going to have to ask the pretty peacock vigilante to repeat himself. God, today just wasn’t your day, wasn’t it? “Sorry, could you repeat that?” you mumbled, burying your face in your hair and doing anything not to look Peacock in the eye. Even if he had very beautiful eyes. Goddammit, you were too bi for this.

Peacock laughed, the sound just as charming as everything else about him. Fuck. “I know I’m handsome, but you shouldn’t let yourself get distracted,” he reprimanded lightly, a teasing smile quirking his lips, and yup, you were going to die. You may as well just go dig a hole and lay down in it. “I asked where you were going.”

Okay, focus. If you manage to screw this up you may as well move back to your town because your pride will be completely gone. “Central Park,” you replied, finally lifting your face from your curtain of hair and clutching the strap of your bag. “I’m supposed to meet my friend at her place, but my phone died, but her house is near there so I thought if I just found my way there…”

You trailed off as you saw Peacock already shaking his head. “Altadellys is a big city,” he explained. “Bigger than you think. I could direct you to Central Park, but you’d still get lost trying to find your way to your friend’s place, and I can’t always be around to save you.” He paused, but before you had time to begin to panic, he was already asking another question. “Do you know where you’re staying?”

“Yes!” You turned your eyes to the sky, eyebrows creasing as you tried to remember the name of the building. “Spring Apartments.”

You’re sure you didn’t imagine the shock that briefly flickered across what you can see of Peacock’s expression, the way he was caught off guard if only for a moment. “Spring Apartments? You’re sure?”

You cocked your head to the side, uncertain as to what about your place of residence would elicit this kind of reaction. “Yes? Is there a problem with that?”

If Peacock’s gaze on you had been intense before, it didn’t come close to comparing to now. You had to fight the urge to hide yourself away from his scrutiny, unable to help but feel like he was committing every detail of your visage to memory. “Not at all.” His easy smile was back as quickly as it had vanished, leaving you feeling out of the loop. “I can take you there.”

“That would be nice, thank you—” You paused, blinking owlishly as his words fully processed. “Wait. Take me there?”

“Let’s just say that helping you will help me as well,” Peacock replied cryptically, as if that clarified things at all. Still, it was hard to be frustrated at his vagueness as long as that unbearably attractive smile remained. “Of course, that’s only if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m okay with it, but how—ah!” Your words dissolved into a yelp as you found yourself unexpectedly scooped into Peacock’s arms. His almost ethereal nature belied how strong he truly was, you realized as he held you securely against his chest, hoping desperately that he couldn’t hear the thudding of your heart. That really would be the icing on your embarrassed cake; the final nail in your flustered coffin.

“Sorry,” Peacock apologized, and this close to him, you could feel the rise and fall of his chest, his warm breath tickling your neck with each exhale. “I’ve never been one to walk in the front door.”

You didn’t have time to even begin to process that before Peacock took to the air. You let out a decidedly undignified shriek, burying your face against his suit and clinging to him like your life depended on it (which it technically did, but you were trying not to think about that).

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Peacock murmured, and between his soft voice and assured grip, you realized he wasn’t saying that just to comfort you. You really were safe in his arms, even as buildings and people blurred past beneath you. It was a surreal feeling, to be truthful, but one that once you got used to it, you couldn’t honestly say you minded.

It was over all too quickly, Peacock placing you down on the roof of the apartment building within minutes. “This is where I leave you,” he explained, flashing you another one of those damned smiles. “I trust you can handle things from here?”

“Well, unless the apartment building is as difficult to navigate as the rest of Altadellys, I should be fine,” you replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Pride swelled within your chest as Peacock laughed at your joke.

“You’re quite the witty one, aren’t you? I like that,” he complimented, winking, and by some miracle you didn’t fall over then and there. “Keep me in mind? Who knows, maybe we’ll meet again.” He leaned forward slightly, and you stared up at him. Wow, his eyes are even more enchanting up close…

Your name fell from his lips, and this time you nearly did fall over. For a second, you wondered if he was going to kiss you, but instead he took a step back, leaving your heart thudding and your chest filled with a strange sense of disappointment.

There was silence for a brief second, before you took a deep breath. “Thank you for saving me,” you murmured, figuring you at least owed him that.

Peacock paused, tilting his head as he regarded you, a smile curling across his lips. It was different to the others, somehow—more real. “The pleasure was all mine, my lady,” he replied, giving a mock bow before walking to the edge of the roof. Before you could get another word in, he spread his wings and jumped, disappearing before you had a chance to call after him.

It took a minute to recover from the excitement you had just experienced, but you made your way inside from the roof stairwell, finding your apartment with blessed ease. I deserve this much mercy after the day I’ve had, you mused as you knocked on the door.

The door opened quickly, revealing a small and delicate-looking woman. Her most striking feature was the floral tattoos that swirled across her whole body, though the gorgeous flowers pinned in her white, yellow-tipped hair came a close second. Her white and pale yellow dress was deceptively simple, the flowers stitched into the opaque overskirt being the most complicated detail of the design.

“Hey.” You introduced yourself, putting on your friendliest smile. “Is this your apartment? If so, I’m your new roommate.”

“That’s today?” The woman huffed slightly, glancing around. “Damn it, Lyris…” She muttered a bit more to herself, leaving you feeling more and more confused, before she finally addressed you. “Oh, but where are my manners? I’m Piama.”

She extended a hand for you to shake, and you reached down to take it. “Nice to meet you, Piama,” you offered, uncertain what to make of your new roommate.

Piama cast an appraising eye over you. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

You blushed, not exactly embarrassed but still shy about being so easily placed by a beautiful woman. “Yeah. My hometown’s pretty far away.”

“That much speaks for itself.” Piama pressed her lips together, resting her chin on her hand as she considered you. “Your clothes are so last season, we’re going to have to do something about that.”

You had no idea how to respond to that. Initially, her words came off as rude, but the context implied she was only trying to help. “Um.”

Before you had a chance to come up with a more intelligent response, there was a melodic chime from Piama’s pocket. Pulling out a phone that looked more expensive that all your past phones put together, Piama scanned what was presumably a text before letting out a huff. “About time!” she complained as her fingers flashed across the screen. “I was supposed to go out with Lyris an hour ago! I called him four times and texted him like, fifty, and he just got back to me!” Putting her phone back away, she rolled her eyes. “This has been happening more and more lately. I’m starting to think he’s gotten a partner and hasn’t told me about it.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help a small laugh. “Well, don’t let me keep you. I can settle in by myself.”

Piama let out a relieved sigh. “Thank God. Lyris and I have been planning this for weeks, and I would die if I waited a second longer.” She paused, looking like a realization had just struck her. “Not that I’m trying to get rid of you, of course. You seem like a lovely girl, it just seems impossible to spend any quality time with him lately.”

You waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it, no offense taken.”

Piama flashed you a small smile, wishing you a quick goodbye before sweeping past you. You wasted no time entering the apartment, quickly finding an outlet to plug your phone into. With that done, you fixed yourself a cup of coffee before flopping on the couch, sighing deeply as you finally began to process the day’s events.

You’d arrived in Altadellys, only to find your phone was dead. Asking a local for directions had proven useless, and soon after that, you had gotten yourself hopelessly lost. You’d nearly been robbed in an alley, only to be saved by an attractive masked vigilante calling himself Peacock. He’d taken you to your new residence and then disappeared. You’d found your apartment and met your roommate, an extremely pretty woman named Piama, and had a brief conversation with her before she’d had to leave. Now, you were here, relaxing in your new home while waiting for your phone to charge.

A distinctive chime alerted you to the fact your phone was now alive again. Carefully grabbing it, you switched it on, seeing that you had five unread texts from Hazel. You wasted no time in unlocking your phone and swiping over to your messenger, finding that the first of the texts was from around two hours ago.

Hazel: Hey did you make it to the city safely?

The next message was about half an hour later, around about when your phone had died.

Hazel: Freckles?

Hazel: You’re starting to worry me

The next two messages were from around half an hour ago, and you can tell Hazel’s increasing worry from the fact they were typed with perfect grammar.

Hazel: Okay, this is totally weird for you.

Hazel: If you don’t message me within the next hour, I’m calling the police.

Guilt and affection mingled in your gut. Guilt that you’d made her worry so much, and affection over the fact that she cared that much for you. Placing your mug down, you quickly typed out a reply.

You: I’m fine Hazey dw

You: My phone died on the way here

Hazel’s response was immediate, and you wondered if she’d been waiting for your message for the past half hour or so.

Hazel: Holy hell don’t scare me like that Freckles

Hazel: Ppl are saying crime rates in Altadellys are higher than they’ve ever been

Hazel: I was worried you’d gotten murdered or smthin

You couldn’t fight back a chuckle, smiling as you responded.

You: Not dead yet, amazingly

You: I’m at my apartment now but getting here was a nightmare

You hesitated as you went to type your next message. You definitely wanted to tell Hazel about your encounter with the mysterious Peacock, but would she believe you? ...of course she would, she was your best friend! She’d definitely heard far weirder stories from you.

You: Hey I’ve got a kinda crazy story to tell you

Hazel: [eyes emoji] [eyes emoji] [eyes emoji] 

Hazel: You know crazy’s my middle name hmu

You: It might be too much to put in a text

Hazel: Np we can meet up in person

Hazel: I’ve been dying to see u again anyway it’s been way too long

You: Agreed

You: Text me your address and I’ll be there ASAP

Plugging the address Hazel sent you into your GPS app, you discovered that her place was only a ten-minute walk away. That was a small miracle; you didn’t feel like tangling with a taxi right now. Draining the rest of your coffee, you got up to place your cup into the sink and write a note for Piama explaining where you were going. Once your phone had charged enough to the point where it wouldn’t die again while you were out, you grabbed your bag and made your way out of the building.

Finding Hazel’s house proved to be blessedly simple now that you had directions, and soon you found yourself standing in front of it. It was modest only in comparison to the other houses along the street, one story with a moderate backyard rather than two stories at least with sprawling acres of land.

“Looks like just the kind of place Hazel would love,” you mused to yourself as you moved to ring the doorbell. As you waited, you noticed that the door also had a knocker in the shape of a lioness’ maw. Interesting—had it been there before Hazel moved in? You couldn’t imagine why she’d have both a doorbell and a knocker.

The door opened shortly, a wide grin breaking across Hazel’s face. “Freckles! It’s so good to see you again!” She wasted no time pulling you into a giant bear hug that nearly crushed your bones.

“Good to see you too, Hazey,” you gasped, hugging her back as best you could. “Uh, you’re kinda crushing me.”

“Whoops.” Hazel quickly let go of you, though she didn’t move back far. “Sorry. Kinda forget my own strength sometimes.”

You smiled, but before you could respond, a new figure appearing over Hazel’s shoulder stole your attention. Blonde hair spilled over her shoulders in waves, her golden eyes shining with a gentle warmth. She wore a simple red and white tunic that looked like it could have dated back to medieval times (and here you thought your fashion was out of date). “Hazel, who’s this?”

“Oh, this is my best friend from my hometown!” Hazel quickly introduced you to the unknown woman and—holy mother of God she was ripped. Lean muscles rippled beneath her clothes, and you were so distracted staring you nearly didn’t catch Hazel adding, “And this is Amara; she recently moved in with me.”

Callout to myself: too bi to function. You tried to push down the thoughts of how attractive Amara was to extend a hand for her to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Amara.”

Amara accepted your proffered handshake, her grip deceptively light. “You as well. Hazel has spoken highly of you.”

You felt your cheeks turn red as Hazel laughed. “‘Course I have! Gotta make sure everyone knows how amazing my best friend is.”

“Hazel!” you exclaimed, trying desperately to cover your darkening blush. First Peacock, then Piama, and now Amara. Were you the protagonist of a romance visual novel or something? If you met one more attractive person you were going to die—which was a problem because Altadellys seemed to be full of them.

“Hey, you never know, Amara might find you just as amazing.” Hazel winked conspiratorially and yup, this was how you died. There was no way Amara wouldn’t notice the obvious wingwomaning—

“Well, I wouldn’t know, but any friend of Hazel’s is a friend of mine.” —or not. Was Amara seriously oblivious to your evident fluster and Hazel’s teasing? Whatever, you would take what you could get. Your poor bi heart still hadn’t recovered from your earlier encounter with Peacock, anyway.

You took a deep breath, praying your voice wouldn’t wobble. “Likewise,” you agreed, shifting your weight awkwardly and flicking your gaze to Hazel. “Also uh, Hazey? Can I come inside or am I going to be standing on your front porch for this entire conversation?”

“Is something wrong with my porch?” Hazel teased. Amara’s brow creased with concern and she quickly added, “I’m joking, Amara, don’t worry. We’ve teased each like this since we were kids.” She stepped back from the door and disappeared into the corridor, calling behind her, “I’m gonna make drinks. You two get to know each other!”

Amara offered you a polite smile. “I apologize for this. Hazel is a dear friend of mine, but I remain bemused by her antics.”

She really was oblivious to Hazel’s wingwomaning. You weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth though, chuckling nervously. “Yeah, she’s always been something of an enigma, but you know how best friends are.”

Amara didn’t respond, and you began to worry you’d said something wrong by the completely blank look on her face. “Amara?”

Amara shook herself, her expression taking on the polite, friendly smile again. It didn’t reach her eyes, and you couldn’t help but feel you’d touched on a sensitive subject, though you had no idea what it was. “My apologies, I was lost in thought. Allow me to show you to the living room.”

As you followed Amara, you couldn’t help but note she carried herself with the posture of a soldier, complete with the famous Murder Walk™ that tumblr loved to talk about. That sent alarm bells ringing in your head and your heart panging with concern—what had happened to her to cause her to always be on her guard?

You knew better than to ask, settling into the cushions of one of the simple white couches in the living room. Amara sat across from you, studying you with a curious expression. “You are not from Altadellys?”

Somehow, the question made you feel less self-conscious than when Piama had commented on it earlier. “Yeah, I’m from Hazel’s hometown. What about you?”

“I’m not from Altadellys either,” Amara replied, confirming a growing suspicion. “I moved here many years ago.”

“Didn’t exactly embrace the lifestyle?” you guessed, gesturing to her clothes and praying your inquiry wouldn’t be considered rude.

To your relief, a genuine smile lit up Amara’s features, a soft glimmer in her eyes. “Not exactly,” she agreed. “I have never been able to immerse myself in the glitz and glam of the city, though I have nothing against those who do.”

“My roommate’s the complete opposite of you,” you mused, trying to latch onto this thread of conversation. “She’s stunningly beautiful, but in a way I feel like I’ll never compare to, you know?”

Amara considered you thoughtfully. “Sometimes simpler is better,” she remarked. “If it is of any comfort to you, I think you look wonderful just the way you are.”

You were saved from spontaneous combustion by Hazel reappearing, carefully holding three mugs full of hot, steaming liquid. If it were anyone else, you might’ve been worried about her spilling or dropping them, but you had complete faith in Hazel. “Coffee for me and Freckles, and tea for Amara!” she hummed, placing down two of the mugs before flopping onto the couch next to you.

“Thank you, Hazel,” Amara responded politely, carefully picking up her drink, blowing on it gently before taking a sip. You echoed the sentiment, retrieving your coffee and nursing it as your thoughts wandered in the direction of gay again.

“So Freckles,” Hazel interrupted, and you nearly spilled your drink as you were jolted out of your thoughts. “You said you had a crazy story to tell?”

“Oh! Yeah, I did, but…” Your gaze flickered hesitantly to Amara.

She caught the look and smiled, gesturing for you to continue. “I assure you, I have heard many extraordinary stories in my time. I promise I will not judge.”

Amara was so open and kind that you found yourself believing her without a second thought. You nodded and took a deep breath. “So like I said in my texts, my phone died getting here. I thought I’d just go to Central Park and find this place from here, but I uh…” You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly, averting your eyes. “I kinda got lost.”

“Understandably so,” Amara said, and you glanced over at her, surprised at her input. “Altadellys is a city of enormous proportions. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, things could’ve gone seriously wrong,” Hazel agreed, concern painted across her features. “Seems like you hear about more and more robberies and people going missing everyday.”

You figured that was as good of a leadup to the ‘crazy’ part of your story as you were going to get. “I’m alright, but it was a close call. Someone tried to rob me in an alley.” You tilted your head to expose the faint scar on your neck.

“What?!” Hazel gasped. “Did you see what they looked like, Freckles? I’ll give them a piece of my mind for daring to lay a hand on you—”

“You should calm down, Hazel,” Amara interrupted gently, but you could see the concern and fury shining behind her golden eyes. “How did you get away?”

“I was saved by a masked guy with wings. He called himself Peacock,” you explained, scanning the pair’s faces for reactions. Hazel’s eyes were wide, her surprise evident, whereas Amara remained more composed, shock passing over her expression for only a moment before she closed her eyes, presumably lost in thought.

“Peacock, you’re sure?” Hazel checked, before shaking her head. “Who am I kidding, you said he had wings, that can’t be anyone else.”

“Yes?” You couldn’t help but feel surprise of your own at Hazel’s reaction. If she recognized his name—and knew about his powers—then just who was Peacock? “Do you know him?”

“Only by reputation,” Hazel replied. The look of awe on her face almost felt surreal. “After Fox disappeared, he took over as Altadellys’s protector of the night!” She struck a pose, then paused. “Okay, so I’m pretty sure he’s more active during the day, but details.” She chuckled to herself. “Seriously though, you’re super lucky, Freckles. Getting saved by Peacock is almost every girl’s dream at the moment.”

You picked up on the phrasing, unable to help quirking your lips at the subtle quip. “But not you?”

“Nah, I’m too much of a lesbian for that.” Hazel grinned, obviously amused by her own joke, before leaning in. “But what about you? Is he as dreamy as they say?” She waggled her eyebrows.

You knew she was only teasing you, but you couldn’t stop the heat that flooded your cheeks as you thought back to your interaction with the masked vigilante. Visions of those beautiful eyes and that breathtaking smile filled your mind. “Um…”

You were hardly subtle. Hazel caught on immediately, and she burst out laughing. “Oh my God! Freckles, you have a crush!”

“I do not!” you immediately defended yourself, already knowing it fell on deaf ears. “He’s as attractive as they say, okay? But that doesn’t mean I like him!”

Hazel wiped a couple tears from her eyes. “Sure, sure, you keep telling yourself that, Freckles. But man, you had one hell of a first day in Altadellys, didn’t ya?”

You really couldn’t disagree with that, though you were just glad Hazel seemed to have dropped the teasing about your non-existent crush on Peacock. Absently, your gaze slid over to Amara, who had yet to rejoin the conversation. You found her staring off at a black-and-white photo hanging on the wall—looking closely, you were pretty sure it was of her, along with a man you’d never seen before. A family member or best friend? I’d consider that it could be her boyfriend, but I get the idea she’s not into guys. But why is it in black and white?

“Freckles? Were you listening?” You jumped, embarrassed at having been caught zoning out. 

I’m really off my game today. “Uh, not really,” you admitted sheepishly. “Mind repeating that?”

Hazel rolled her eyes affectionately. “I asked how the job search was going.” Her tone was filled with the fond exasperation only a best friend could capture.

“Oh, that.” You sighed, wishing you had better news on that front. “Not well, honestly. None of the places I’ve applied to have even called me in for an interview.”

Hazel winced sympathetically. “Yikes, that sucks. I’d offer to help ya, Freckles, but I don’t think my line of work is exactly for you.” She gave a meaningful look at your less-than-impressive physique and you laughed.

“Probably not, but thanks anyway.” You ran your fingers through your hair, thinking. “It’s a problem, though. Rent isn’t cheap here—I’ll get kicked out pretty fast if I don’t find a job soon.”

Hazel gave a thoughtful hum. “Well, why don’t you apply for an internship at Optimus? Seems like your kind of place.”

“Optimus? Are you sure?” Amara’s sudden interruption startled you, and you glanced over at her. Her expression was completely closed off, betraying nothing about how she felt. You had to fight the urge to swallow, somehow feeling like you’d just stepped into a social minefield.

“I don’t really know anything about Optimus,” you confessed hesitantly. “Should I?”

“They’re the world’s foremost authority on powers,” Amara explained, still completely neutral. “They help connect people with places that need their powers the most.”

“They donate to a bunch of charities too, and help with a bunch of other stuff,” Hazel added. “It’s like, the dream job for everyone living in Altadellys, and the pay’s incredible.”

You exhaled softly, considering your options. Hazel was right—it did sound like a dream job. You’d been interested in powers since you were little, always wishing you’d been one of the lucky ones, but nobody with powers had been born in your hometown for generations. “That does sound amazing Hazey, but there’s no way I’m qualified for that sort of thing.”

“If it’s just an internship, I have a friend who may be able to help.” You gave Amara a curious look. “I can let him know. He’s a private man, but he’s reliable.”

You were burning with questions you wanted to ask about Amara’s friend, but given that she still had that blank look on her face, completely devoid of any emotion at all, you didn’t want to push your luck and risk her rescinding the offer. “I guess it’s worth a shot. Thanks, Amara.”

She nodded in acknowledgment, but gave no other response. Suddenly, Hazel gasped, bolting to her feet. “Oh shoot, I totally forgot! I was supposed to meet with a client like, ten minutes ago!” She turned to you apologetically. “Sorry Freckles, I gotta run. If you want, though, we can meet up in like an hour or so? There’s a cafe right around the block, Sweet Enchantments, it’s the best cafe this side of Altadellys.”

You chuckled, unable to pass up the prospect of hanging out with Hazel again after all these years. “Sure thing Hazey, sounds great.”

“Awesome, catch you later!” Hazel darted from the room. Amara stood as well, brushing off her clothes.

“I’m afraid I have places to be as well,” she apologized, and even though it didn’t compare to earlier, you were relieved to see a hint of genuine regret in her eyes. “Before I leave, however, perhaps we should exchange phone numbers.”

“Oh!” You were going to get a pretty woman’s phone number. Yeah, this was a first. “That’s probably a good idea, yeah.”

Amara didn’t stick around long after giving you her number, and you headed back to your apartment, feeling awkward hanging around Hazel’s house while neither of its occupants were home. To your surprise, you found Piama perched on the couch, deeply engrossed in some kind of nature documentary and sipping at a cup of tea.

“Hi Piama,” you greeted, gaining her attention. “Weren’t you hanging out with Lyris?”

Piama waved a dismissive hand. “We just went out to a nearby cafe,” she explained, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same one Hazel had mentioned. “Besides, he needs to get his stuff out of your room.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Piama sighed, as though the reason Lyris’s stuff was apparently in your room was of great disdain to her. “He’s been half-living here for years,” she replied, turning her attention back to the TV. “He would have moved in, but he has a cat, and if his fur ball wasn’t the most annoying creature on that planet, I might’ve considered putting up with my allergies for him, but as it is, ‘Madame Whiskers’ has it out for me. Of course, I’m not going to ask my best friend to give up his cat for me, so now he lives on the floor above me while dumping half his stuff here.”

“Piama, who are you talking to? Is your roommate home?” a very familiar voice called from the hallway. You couldn’t quite place it until he stepped into the living room, and your jaw dropped as realization dawned on you. You wasted no time in appraising his physical appearance; his hair, his build, his general aesthetic, even his nails—everything matched up to Peacock. Even so, you might’ve chalked it up to a coincidence if not for his eyes. His damned eyes. His damned, beautiful eyes. Deep purple and breathtaking gold; even if your mind didn’t recognize them, your heart would’ve.

Peacock—Lyris?—was staring at you just as openly, and you could see the recognition and shock blooming across his expression as well. If Piama replied, you didn’t hear it, too swept up in the feeling of holy shit I’m meeting Peacock as a civilian and he’s my roommate’s best friend.

Your phone chimed, shattering the moment. You coughed to cover the awkwardness, quickly pulling it out and glancing down at the texts you’d just received.

Hazel: Client cancelled [rolling eyes emoji]

Hazel: U still wanna hang out at the cafe tho?

Oh, was all you could think as your fingers hovered over the keyboard, having literally no idea how to reply. Glancing up didn’t help, as you saw Lyris staring at you with the same shocked expression he’d had moments ago, Piama looking between the two of you in confusion.

Oh shit.

CHAPTER CHOICE

You're in a bit of a tricky spot here. You did say you were going to hang out with Hazel, but if you do that, the situation with Lyris is going to get... awkward. To say the least. Do you: A) Commit to going to the cafe with Hazel B) Stay to try and diffuse the situation with Lyris and Piama, and hopefully get some answers

#reigning passions #lovestruck reigning passions #lovestruck voltage #voltage lovestruck #lyris reigning passions #lyris of the spring #piama of the spring #piama reigning passions #amara of the summer #amara reigning passions #hazel reigning passions #masquerade #villainous nights #lovestruck villainous nights #mal writes #villainous nights au

[mysticsparklewings]

The Dream Crosser

Surprise! NaPoWriMo didn't kill me (and I'm not abandoning dA because of the incoming Eclipse update either, more on that situation here), I just needed a week off to recuperate...and obsessively play Animal Crossing: New Horizons... Admittedly, I actually drew this well over a month ago (and wrote up the majority of the description!), not just before NaPoWriMo but before I actually had New Horizons in my grasp. The plan was to post it the day I got the game. Which was supposed to be much closer to the game's launch (March 20th). That ended up not happening and the day I got the game was the first day of NaPoWriMo, but 1. I messed up with the non-uniform prompts and spent all of the day trying to catch up so I couldn't even play the game yet, and 2. As a side effect, I ended up having two posts that day and a lot of work to do to catch up the second, and I hardly had time to think about posting this. And even if I had posted it, it would've been drowned in the incoming NaPoWriMo posts. And so, here we are. Really, really, I do have to mention that I truly feel for anyone else still waiting on the game for whatever reason. You have my deepest sympathy and I'm so sorry I can't just give you the game right now and make it better.  I know the wait was hard enough for me, being this is the one game I highly anticipated in over a year and I essentially had the rug yanked out from under me. But I'll save that story for after I talk about the art itself since I'm sure that's what most people are here for and not my pre-order frustrations. So in case you don't know or couldn't tell, this is the lovely Luna from AC: New Leaf's Dream Suite. From what we've seen of New Horizons since it's release, the Dream Suite's functions and purpose have been mostly absolved into the Airport and Dodo Codes, and so I'm very doubtful Luna will actually be in the game in any capacity, which makes me sad. A typical player (including me) wouldn't even necessarily interact with Luna that much in New Leaf unless you really enjoy visiting other towns using Dream Codes, so I'm not sure what it is, but for some reason I just really like her. That's why I picked her to draw to celebrate. I very nearly drew her a long time ago when I was on an Animal Crossing kick in 2018, but at the time I didn't like the idea of pressuring myself into drawing all and/or multiple AC characters just because I wanted to be "fair" to them all (much the same reason I don't draw Pokemon very often), so I ended up drawing One Little Spark, a crossover of the Disney character Figment drawn in the New Leaf style, instead. So in a way, she's had this coming for quite a while. At the time I started working on her, (way back in early March, because I was hoping beyond hope my pre-order would arrive to me actually on launch day, but ha ha ha look who's got egg on her face for that ) I was running a bit dry on artistic motivation, and so while I tried to draw her in my usual manner: Making a sketch, transferring the sketch onto different paper with finalized lines, then picking whichever coloring method I was most into at the time), I was struggling with the sketch. I've had days where I have to work on a sketch for a really long time before I can get something I'm happy with, but this day I was just so not into the whole sketching process. I wanted to create, but I wanted it to be quick and easy and simple. I didn't want to have to poke at it for hours and hours and then still maybe not be happy when I was done. So when I got discouraged enough, I broke away from trying to draw Luna and just drew mandalas instead. (As had become my art-block crutch for a little while.) Somewhere in me, as I worked on other things, I kept going back and forth on what to do about Luna, though. I did still want to draw her, but my usual formula just wasn't working for me. Not for her. I even tried briefly to draw her linelessly, digitally, as what was supposed to be a quick and simple experiment, but that went downhill even faster than sketching did. Although, for some reason, the lineless idea wouldn't leave me alone after that. Finally, I decided to try something completely different. I was going to try and free-handedly draw her, without lines, traditionally. With, primarily, alcohol markers. Honestly, the thought minorly horrifies me now just as much as it did before I started. And yet, here we are and I actually like how it turned out. Allow me to explain how this came together: So, since I wasn't sure how this was going to turn out once I decided to try it, I opted to use my not-so-great mixed media paper so I wouldn't feel guilty about wasting better paper if I ended up hating it. Naturally, this did lead to some notable limitations, but not enough to discourage me from trying. I dove right in with the dark brown for her head and body, focusing on getting the general shapes down. I'd noticed some glaring mistakes in my mostly unproductive sketching when it came to Luna's body proportions, so I tried to keep those things in mind and adjust accordingly as I went. It was scary because there is no erasing this way short of using white paint and because this paper feathers pretty noticeably with markers. Then once I got to a certain point, I had to switch and bring in some pink and off-white markers to draw in parts of her dress so I knew where to put her other arm and her legs. And here is where I technically cheated; I did use my "clear" Stardust Gelly Roll pen to do most of the outlines for her dress. I needed some kind of guideline, but pencil tends to get yucky when you put markers on top and at the time I couldn't really think of a better option. (The joke was kind of on me because somehow I still got a nasty gray line that looked like pencil under her bust that I had to gently edit out later in Photoshop, but I digress.) As I went with the markers, I was also doing some light shading. Not too much, because this paper is really fussy with layers and blending, but enough that I felt like it didn't look completely flat and I could tell where one shape ended and another started. Though, for her nose (trunk? I believe Luna is supposed to be a Tapir) and her raised arm, I had to get a little creative and I used a white brush pen meant for glass/ceramics to put in the lines so you could actually see them. And later I would use the same pen in 3-4 layers to add the white back in for her eyes. With the base for her body, dress, and the bun part of her hair done though, then I had the task of figuring out what to do for her shoes and the details of her face. (Without having to mix and use specific paint for those tiny details.) In the end, I opted to mostly use my classic red Gelly Roll pen for her shoes, and a little bit of a dark red alcohol marker for shading. And then I got to experiment with mixing the classic red and one of the Moonlight Gelly Rolls for her lips so that the color would be visible and not just a dark lip-shaped "what is this." This was because the classic Gelly Rolls don't show up super well on dark surfaces and the Moonlight ones do, but I didn't have the right color straight out of a Moonlight pen. It did take 2-3 careful layers, but I think I managed well enough in the end. I used just one black pen, a Prismacolor brush-tip fine liner, for her eyes, though in-person the white base underneath makes her pupils look about a shade or two lighter from certain angles, which was a very unintentional nice touch. My answer to everything else ended up being gouache, although I did try to come up with pen colors for her eye shadow and the blue dots on her cheeks before admitting defeat that I just didn't have the colors I needed. Originally, I had actually been thinking of trying a lineless art piece with gouache, as I think it would work particularly well for that look, but I wasn't ready to fully commit to the idea, mostly because I seem to be even worse at mixing a non-excessive amount of a specific color with gouache than I am with acrylics, and that sounds like a fantastic way to waste a bunch of palette space because I mixed too much but it's gouache so it can be re-wet and re-use it and I don't want to just throw it away...  (Although I suppose this could be half-way solved by getting a bigger palette specifically for mixing gouache, but I also don't want to have to buy yet another palette when I have some perfectly good ones...If I could just use up all the paint in them already...) Anyway. Point: This is kind of a step between a full lineless gouache piece and not doing one at all. Baby steps, yes? I knew from fairly early on that I was probably going to have to use gouache for the front part of her hair/bangs, since I did not thoroughly plan ahead enough and didn't leave a gap there to do it with markers. Fortunately, I didn't have to do much mixing since my gouache already has a nice yellow ochre color included, and I could use a bit of the other two browns and one I had some leftover mixed already from Roses in Your Eyes for shading. (White for the flowers, too, thank goodness.) And I actually ended up going over most of her bun with gouache too since, by comparison, the marker didn't look like it had much shading and it was bothering me. I did have to mix my own blue and pinky-purple for her makeup, and I ended up with a lot of leftover pinky-purple. But it's kind of okay because by itself it's such a pretty color I'm sure I'll find an excuse to use that one. After that, I just had to do some minor tweaks where the gouache had gotten a bit away from me and then I went ham on the shading for the dress based on my reference photo. Then I realized I wanted some kind of background because this seemed awfully boring without one. And, naturally, I hadn't really planned ahead for that, me being me and being in habit of doing the background last... At first, I wanted to do something hot pink, since her official Amiibo card has a hot pink background, but then I thought that might be a little too loud and I wasn't really sure the best way to apply one without potentially messing her up. And also, this isn't watercolor or paper thicker than 140 lb, which immediately threw watercolor out the window unless I wanted a very uneven paper when I was finished. I'd already pushed my luck with the gouache and been very careful about not using much water with it; I decided it was best not to push my luck any farther. Also, I couldn't use my pink PanPastel, despite that being maybe my best option, because it is still perpetually screwed onto the little Pan Pastel stack with no hope of getting unstuck anytime soon. (One of these days I swear, I will order either another set like the one I have or an individual Pink one to solve this problem, but until then, I am going to bring it up every single time as a caution to others to please be very careful when screwing and unscrewing your own Pan Pastels if you store them screwed together.) And I didn't feel like dragging out some of my drawing pastels and/or makeup that's too expired to use on my face and very slowly building up color and hoping it'll do what the Pan Pastels do. With no better ideas coming to me, I decided I'd leave the drawing for the night and come back to it the next day. After yet more brainstorming the next day, I finally settled on doing a glittery rounded rectangle and filling it with washi tape stripes. This plan did change a little as I figured out which tapes I wanted to use (a purple-y, champagne gold, and light pink ones, the latter two of which look more different in-person than they do on the scan) and as I actually started applying the lines. Partially because this tape is a bit thin and partially because I'm not used to cutting tape around very specific shapes, it took a very long time to both place strips of the tape and then get them cut to fit right up to Luna without looking strange. Once I got to a certain point going in one direction, I realized my next couple of cuts were just going to be too hard for me to stand. I had a choice: Ditch the tape, or figure something else out. Taking a risk, I decided to try and salvage it by doing an almost-plaid/checkerboard with the tape, specifically leaving out certain areas where I knew it would be too tricky to cut the tape. This also turned out to be a good way to use up some of the pieces of tape I'd already cut off that were too small to be used the other way. It's still not the greatest background solution I've ever come up with, but it does the job of making it look less empty, and that's really all I wanted anyway. And you know, compared to official images her proportions look wonky, but by herself (meaning, without comparing the two) I think Luna looks pretty good, actually. (Though, I admit I did have to tweak her right ear in Photoshop because it came out entirely too long and there wasn't really a good way for me to fix it by hand.) To think, this piece started out as such a mess. Or rather, I was such a mess when I started. And yet, here we are, and it looks kinda okay. Okay enough that I finished it and am posting it, at least.   I have no idea if I'll be returning to this style/method for art-making in the future, but even if I don't it was a nice experiment to try, and that's what art is really all about isn't it? Experimenting, trying new things? Speaking of experimenting though, about those pre-order frustrations I mentioned now that I've covered everything about the art itself...(in small text for those that don't care to easily skip over) Back in February I tried twice to pre-order New Horizons from Target, since they were running an ad where if you pre-ordered the game you'd also get an AC themed journal with it, and that combined with my family member's employee discount made it the cheapest/best value way for us to buy the game. As I said, I tried to order it twice. Both times, it was sold out. My family member had even tried to go to the store and have them order it before then, to no avail. After the second time, which was the day after Target sent out the sale paper with the new ad in it, while I was still frustratedly wondering how on earth do you sell out of a pre-order?? I kept refreshing the page every so often just to see if by some fluke it would miraculously not be sold out. I got very lucky around 3 in the afternoon and we managed to get the order in before it sold out again. Now, we're a relatively cheap family, so we didn't pay for the "express shipping" or whatever. Although, this was a $60 game and we were ordering it three whole weeks (on March 2nd) before release. If you ask me, the least they could do is have it shipped out either on launch day (March 20th) or the day after. Especially if I can pre-order a book on Amazon with three days' notice and they can still get it to me on release day. But, okay, I could live with waiting an extra day or up to maybe three if I had to. (And, to be fair, this was all before a certain virus exploded into chaos here in the US.) Much to my dismay, a week before NH release day, I checked the order status with Target only to be told I wouldn't get it until the 26th. A week later. That was pretty disappointing at the time, but it didn't really bother me until the day before and the day of launch when some people were getting their pre-orders early from places like Amazon and Best Buy (and some of them didn't even pay for the express shipping option from their selected source). If those two companies could plan around virus constraints to do that, why in the heck couldn't Target? But, okay, fine. Maybe the virus had something to do with it and they were really doing the best they could. Whatever. A week. Fine. I'll wait a week. A few days later though, we got an email saying: Surprise! Don't expect your dumb video game until April 3rd because we couldn't get our act together! (Okay, that's not what it really said, but that's what it felt like.) And I know, I promise I so know there are much more serious issues going on in the world right now and a video game about talking animals isn't exactly a priority shipment. I know. But it was still massively upsetting after I'd already waited so long. And, honestly, I feel like they had plenty of time and notice to take care of the game before everything else exploded and messed it all up. Again, especially if other companies already had time to even ship orders early and/or get the games to people on launch day. Or the day after. TWO WEEKS after launch, and you don't tell me about the secondary delay until the week I started expecting the game to already be in the mail on it's way to me? The only tiny silver lining is that as I was checking the order to make sure it didn't miraculously get pushed back to sometime in 2021 (because I really had no faith in Target's time estimates at this point) is that it did get bumped back up to April 1st. Although, I did think that it would be the absolute least funny April Fools' Day Joke ever if the day came and it was late because screw me.  But it did arrive to me on April 1st as promised; I just had a million other things to do before I could play it. ) And I will say, I know I could've just canceled the pre-order and bought the game digitally, but it was enough of a hassle to order it in the first place, and if I did that I'd also lose my pre-order bonus. And all that aside, I specifically wanted a physical copy to begin with. I always prefer that when it's possible. So people on the internet that want to eat me alive for not canceling when the shipping got screwed up, there are my reasons. Take 'em or leave 'em. (Seriously, I've seen some people be really rude about this just because they didn't like hearing people upset that they didn't have the game yet...when they already had it themselves or didn't care about AC in the first place...) Moral of the story: Don't pre-order from Target. Or, at least, don't expect the item to actually get to you right around release day. Account for at least two additional weeks of not having the thing. ...Seriously though, how do you sell out of a pre-order?? At least, when it's a highly anticipated game and you're a big company and not some small indie company with limited resources! Sheesh! Anyway. I have the game now, I've been playing it as much as possible and enjoying it. I still have a ways to go before my island is "complete" per se, but it's coming along nicely and I feel more comfortable now taking some more time away from it to get back into the swing of making art and things like that. So hopefully I'll be getting back into a regular posting schedule and you'll have that to look forward to. 

____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

#animalcrossing #newhorizons

[thenowherehome]

Nadgin, chapter inbetween, unfinished, #1

Nadgin headed to the shore, carrying carefully the tiny body in his arms, draped in a sheet of rough cotton. There, he picked up a log of driftwood, to lay the body on. Covering it up fully with the sheet, he then pushed it as the tide withdrew, sending it to sail in its currents.

From his bag, he then took a sheet of paper, a wooden pen and a goblet of ink, and started scribbling. It was something between words and music, a language known by those his kin. A voice-based poetry, sounds coming deep from the throat, each note and inflection telling a story. As he was writing down his sorrow, sitting on a rock facing the sea, a small fishing boat came laying ashore. From it came out a rather small character, similar in height to the deceased friend, perhaps a bit taller and bigger. "Heya, stranger", he waved. "Not a night to be out, is it? What are you doing all hunched up on your rock there?" Nadgin's knowledge of the language allowed him to understand what was being said, but didn't let him find the right words for an answer. He waved back, smiling lightly, letting the little man know that he didn't have quite an idea what he was doing here either. "Alright alright I see what's up", the fisherman answered, drawing his boat to him, out of the waters. "Will ya help me there? I fished plenty today, her belly hadn't been so full since moons back! Come on, get up on your two feet!"

The small boat now safe on dry lands, the small rounded man jumped back in, opening a hatch on the wooden floor, revealing a hold full of slimy silver fishes. "See, lad. All that fish I got, all in one day!" Nadgin smiled warmly, letting a cheerful, encouraging sound out of his mouth. The fisherman reached down and grabbed one of the fishes. "Here friend, take this one for yourself. I have too much fish for my own needs, should I pickle them all I'd be fed for the year onward! I can't just let myself be fed on that now, I'd be miserable not going fishing anymore for a whole year, can you imagine! Take this one, I'll give away more to my needy neighbors." Nadgin gestured thankfully, accepting the present from the man.

Awkwardly keeping the fish in his right hand, by lack of a better idea of where he could store it, he decided it was time for him to go seek shelter for the night within the city bounds. He couldn't be expecting to get any more from the fisherman. Bending in a respectful manner towards him, he excused himself and left, the man distractedly waving him goodbye in between two heavy lifting of fish-baskets.

For the first time, being in this town felt bitter to him. He'd been quite happy here until then. He had started knowing the streets, where they led and what they brought, even what kind of people inhabited them. But he wanted to get lost in the city center again, walk aimlessly and, at a corner, find himself amazed at a nice spot he would have found. He needed some of that now. Nothing could quite relieve his psyche as giving himself in to the good will of the city streets, and let it lead him to a new place, that felt like a gift. Always, when Nadgin entered a new city, he felt as if the streets themselves were befriending him. Looking after him, taking him by the hand to let him discover new views that never failed to bring happiness. But after a while of knowing each other, the feeling would inevitably vanish. Nadgin would have loved to find himself welcomed back into the arms of an old friend, but he was left with very little. The reality of his situation made him come back to his senses, and he started looking for a place to spend the night. Not an easy thing to do when you're an outsider, even lesser so when you speak a different language. The only place that would welcome him without fault would be an inn, but he wasn't quite in the mood for heavy social interactions which would have to be carried by awkward gesturing until alcohol came into play. On top of that, he'd much rather save up his few coins for a better emergency.

By lack of a better option, he resentfully took a turn to the right, choosing to walk a cobblestone street going uphill. Up there he would find the city's largest temple, which porch was wide enough to be a refuge to those in need of a roof, despite the absence of walls. He enjoyed visiting temples on rainy days. The misty weather was twice as great as it provided from too much affluence to an otherwise crowded area, and brought a sense of deep solemnity to the place. At night though, when the pious had left, the place was left to the renegades. They could suffer the city-dweller's disdain during the day, but when night rose, the looks on the city folk's faces was one of fright, and frightened people come to certain extents at times. As such were things, all renegades from the streets gathered up at night at the temple, thereby avoiding lynchings, police raids and bad looks. Under the generous eye of all spiritual things, it was a busy few that met up each night. They were diverse enough though so that people of every nature would be respected. You could just be yourself and things played out. Nadgin could hope to find himself a spot and nobody would come bother him if he didn't go seek their company himself. Perfect. He wouldn't want to be bothered that night.

Unfortunately though, the fish he was carrying at his hand drew more attention than he expected. As he passed the gate to the temple's enclosure, a broad-shouldered woman who came in minutes before him, walked in his direction. Nadgin pretended not to see her, deciding to walk along the wall to the passageway that would lead him behind the temple, where less people would be. He would eat his fish there, in peace, before coming back to the porch. As he was making his way past her, the woman hailed at him.

She had a foreign look to her. Skin darkened by the sun, she was starting to age, but had nothing frail about her. Her stature, tall and quite muscular, gave her an aura that worked on Nadgin enough so he had to stop and listen.

#nanowrimo #writing of the day #nadgin #fantasy #story

[bcbdrums]

Fallen

I wanted to write a darkfic. I was also determined to write something short! But as always, this took on a life of its own... Does 3,300 words count as short?

Partially inspired by @duck-duck-duck-moose‘s recent prison escape drabble. Enjoy.

---------

There was no moon. The night was black as jet, and but for the lights from the warehouse below Drakken wouldn't have been able to see anything in the remote part of the Orinoco rainforest that was to be the site of their next larceny.

He hung back nervously and watched Shego as she gazed at their target through binoculars, laying flush against the flat rooftop and just barely peeking over the edge. He still wasn't used to her new look of all black with her hair wrapped all around her head in a some type of layered plait. A mask hung around her neck ready to cover the lower-half of her face, and night-vision goggles completed the look. The only semblance to her old costume was the pouch on her calf. When she wore the goggles and mask they concealed her skin, rendering her nearly invisible in the dark.

He likewise wasn't used to the costume she had insisted that he wear, essentially black combat fatigues, but with heavy-duty bullet proof armor and a few 'accessories.' 'Because we both know you'd be a goner without them, where we're going,' she had told him. He also had a mask and goggles, but he wore them as little as possible. He felt terribly out of character with all of it.

Shego motioned him forward with a subtle gesture, and he slowly crawled on his belly as she had taught him until he reached her side and peered over the edge of the roof with her. He lifted his binoculars and followed her gaze until he easily found their target: hundreds of packing crates, filled with bags and bags of a pearly white powder that went by many names in the underworld. And it was all being loaded into about two-dozen massive trucks by a contingent of at least fifty men clad similarly to himself, all speaking Spanish.

Shego tapped his shoulder, and he lowered the binoculars to see her point first at the corner of a building far to their left, and then over to the first truck in the caravan. He raised the binoculars again and looked to her first point.

Dr. Director of Global Justice peered around the corner of a building, along with General Shipp of the U.S. Army. Drakken knew that the Army's special teams were all stationed strategically around the supposedly hidden jungle warehouses for miles. Traps had been set, every road was guarded, and every contingency considered. If all went as planned, this would be the biggest drug bust in history.

Except that he and Shego were planning a double-cross.

Well, Shego was. He was just along for the ride, as he had been for the last eight months when she decided she was getting bored with their vanilla jobs at G.J. At first she had taken small side jobs of the sort the government didn't want the public to know existed. But those jobs had quickly gotten bigger and bigger, to the point where he had been working up the courage to confront her.

Except that she came to him first. She had been blunt and said she was done, that she had been done before it had ever started. She was a villain. But she had stayed for him and wanted him to go along with her now. Her plan was to keep up the facade and begin rebuilding their empire, which would be easier while they weren't wanted in any countries.

The very idea made him sick. He had wanted to plead with her, to tell her that he was happy, and that when they were inevitably found out it would be worse for them than ever.

But every argument was forgotten when he melted into her passionate kiss.

To the world they were still heroes. But now he followed her on every mission, obeying her orders, and carefully covering up their tracks.

A few million stolen here, a job for Belarusian crime lords there. Most of the time she secretly took the independent contracts and would be gone for weeks, and he was left hoping she would come back alive even as he forged all manner of excuses when their bosses came looking for her.

When he expressed his concern with her disappearing acts, she started taking him with her. Thus began his mercenary training and the distressing revelation that there was more in her head this time than the weekend-style villainy to which he had long been accustomed.

This time there was blood. And bodies. And a disturbingly casual attitude about it all that urged him to attend her even more closely.

On that moonless night they were the Army's wild card. Dr. Director was there in the capacity of an independent contractor as they were, and General Shipp was running the show. He would give the order for special forces to move in. Then if things looked to be heading south, Shego and Drakken would arrive with their superpowers to mix things up. But only if absolutely necessary.

Shego had decided it was before they were even out of the Pentagon.

Her plan was very simple on the surface. When the Army moved in, so would they. They would steal one truck, easily missed in what would no doubt be a blood bath once the firefight started, and get away with ease since they knew where all the booby traps were and which roads to take. What was worth a few cents in Venezuela would be worth thousands in the U.S., and Shego knew exactly who to sell the goods to.

"Sarria is here," she whispered, drawing his attention to the other place she had pointed. A man smoking a cigar whose face Drakken couldn't make out stood near the lead eighteen-wheeler, giving orders and dual-wielding Uzis. "So that's the truck we go for."

"Why?" Drakken asked.

"He wouldn't be guarding it so closely if— Oh...look!"

Drakken looked again as the back door of the truck was slid open and a crate was lifted inside. This was the last one and filled the vehicle to capacity.

When he looked over at Shego, her expression was almost lustful.

"If that truck is actually that full of coke... It could be worth almost a billion!"

Drakken felt a familiar, licentious desire rise within him. What he could do with a billion dollars...

"Okay, sixty seconds out. Are the synthodrones ready?"

"Yes," he said with a nod, swallowing anxiously.

There was no coming back after this mission. Everyone would know when his newly improved and much larger electro-synthodrone army attacked exactly who was responsible. And his creations would of course attack everyone. Mercenaries only took the side of who paid the most, Shego had instructed him, but for this plan their only loyalties were to themselves.

"And the jammers?" she continued, tucking her binoculars away into her small backpack.

She never looked at him anymore. She never teased him and hardly ever talked to him outside of giving him an order or explaining their next job or scheme. There were no more Friday nights at karaoke, or vacations to Greece. When she wasn't out doing something decidedly illegal and self-serving, she was making plans for the next time.

He barely recognized her.

"Yes."

"All right, wait for my signal," she said, reaching for her mask.

"Shego?" he said, catching her hand in his.

She looked up at him with questioning and almost suspicious eyes.

Before she could react he slipped his other hand behind her head and quickly closed the distance between them, kissing her ardently.

45 seconds...

She didn't respond.

40 seconds...

She gently tried to push him away. His fingers laced between hers as his tongue bravely caressed her lips.

35 seconds...

She spoke against his mouth that there wasn't time for that, her warm breath mingling with his.

30 seconds.

His tongue continued its demands until her soft lips parted, and his heart swelled.

25 seconds.

Finally and gratefully his tongue found hers, writing his desire in tender swirls. The answering press of her lips was sweet and hesitant.

20 seconds.

The hand that pushed against his chest weakened until it slipped down and lay limp in her lap. Her lips trembled in their effort to respond to his fervor.

15 seconds.

He slowly withdrew his tongue and hers followed, unwilling to surrender the touch. His lips captured her honey-sweet member and suckled it gently.

She moaned.

An urgent need for air forced him to relinquish his control, and he reluctantly drew his lips away from hers. When he opened his eyes hers were still closed, and he ended up holding his breath again.

He wanted to save her. He wanted her back. But the deeper she went into this new world, the further she fell. Simply tagging along and being there with her wasn't enough. And his fear grew as the days passed with no glimmer of hope, and he was almost out of ideas.

His earpiece crackled with the voice of General Shipp, signaling his troops to move in. He knew she heard the same thing in hers.

In the moment her eyes opened, she was there. The familiar friend who challenged him to be better than he was, and who he admired for her relentless pursuit of self-worth, not letting even the world hold her down.

She was looking at him.

But in less than the time it took for the general to issue his command, she was gone, displaced by the dead eyes of the mercenary.

The loss was so profound that he felt it deep in his chest, like a fist clenching around his heart.

"Shego..." he whispered desperately, begging her to come back to him.

Her eyes met his and there was a flicker of her—the tiniest of flickers—that he wanted to believe and hope in.

"Drakken..."

And then she was gone again, pulling away from him and putting her mask in place.

On the ground below them, the sound of machine gun fire had taken over the night and he knew he had to refocus. He would never get her back if he wasn't able to keep up with her.

"We'll have time for that after we get our billion. Let's go," she said, climbing over the wall and sliding down the rope they had secured there.

Drakken followed and moments later was peering over her shoulder into chaos.

Erratic flashes of yellow and orange lit up the surrounding jungle as the army moved in against the drug lords. The criminals were meeting the attack in kind, most shielding themselves behind the crates and trucks while others used more brash tactics, rushing to meet their enemies in armored cars. The unending retort of too many weapons was dizzying, and Drakken huddled behind Shego in fear.

"Now," Shego hissed, and Drakken obediently sent the command to the synthodrones.

They watched from the shadows as the towering seven-foot automatons appeared as if from thin air amid both the soldiers and the criminals as their cloaking devices were deactivated, their numbers excelling those of the combined sides of the conflict.

Anger and shock and terror and rage were the cries of their enemies, easily understood whether in English or Spanish as the new and improved electro-synthodrones attacked. Bodies began falling, some by electrocution and others by blunt force trauma as the highly-skilled androids followed their programming.

Shego began creeping along the wall of the building they had hidden upon and toward the lead truck, her eyes never leaving the action.

"Gun," she said. Drakken quickly handed her the laser pistol he had designed and she used the invisible beam to shoot out every light along their path as they went, a little extra security in case the synthodrones weren't distraction enough.

Their earpieces crackled with the furious voice of Dr. Director, demanding to know what they were up to. Synthodrones had been banned in their first year at G.J.

Shego handed him the gun back as they came to the corner of the building and paused. This would be the hard part. There was no cover between them and the truck now, and it was about forty yards away from them. The gate that would lead to freedom was closed and locked, and the rumored leader of the cartel was still standing right next to their prize, cigar still in his mouth and an uzi in each hand.

The fighting was concentrated at the other end of the caravan, which was to their disadvantage. They would likely be spotted if they simply made a run for it.

"We need the fight to come over here," he muttered.

Just then, an explosion sent flames and debris in a thirty foot radius. Drakken fell to the ground and covered his head, while the unflappable Shego merely narrowed her eyes. Luck was in their favor as a combination of soldiers and criminals ran toward the gate, some fighting each other and synthodrones pursuing them all.

"Attention all units..."

In their earpieces they heard Dr. Director proclaim them belligerents in the fight, and General Shipp authorized all necessary force to stop them.

There really was no going back.

"Ready?" Shego asked, looking at him as he sheepishly stood back up.

"Mhm," he said nervously.

She took off running through the dark toward the truck and he followed right behind her, his eyes darting around between their enemies looking for any sign of threat. The first came from one of the soldiers who spotted them and shouted their names. Heads turned in their direction, and Shego growled in anger as their cover was blown.

They were halfway there. One of the soldiers ran in front of Shego to stop her, but without hesitation she leapt into the air and came down on top of him with a harsh kick to his knee. Drakken heard the crack as the bones were broken and the man cried out in pain.

Two of the drug lords opened fire on them and Shego dropped to the ground and rolled swiftly toward them. Before they knew what had hit them she had swept their legs out from under them and was behind them, a snarl on her face as she twisted one of their arms in each of her hands until she heard the telltale snap.

Drakken was transfixed in a mixture of awe, horror, and disgust at the violent display.

"Drakken!" Shego's cry alerted him, and he turned to see the missile from a rocket launcher growing rapidly as it raced directly toward him.

He pressed his fingers fiercely into the button on the center of his belt, activating his personal shield. He closed his eyes tightly as the rocket impacted it, the light momentarily blinding as the flames expanded and then dissipated.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

Any shield that could stop Shego's powers could stop a rocket.

Shego was up again and had knocked back the soldier who fired at him with a harsh kick to the chest. The man's body fell back hard against the ground and he didn't move again.

Catching his breath, Drakken hurried to catch up as he knew he would probably be hot-wiring the truck before they could escape.

Shego was only a few steps ahead of him, her eyes darting from side to side almost daring anyone else to challenge them.

Sudden pain as if from a large fist hit Drakken square in the chest. Again. And again, and with a grunt he faltered in his run and tumbled head over heels in the last ten yards to their destination.

Shego's cry of fury forced his eyes up again and he saw that it had been Sarria with his Uzis that took him down, and now the target of his lover's rage.

He would thank her for the bulletproof armor later.

He watched as if spellbound as a massive green blast from her hands lifted the man off the ground and slammed him into the side of the eighteen-wheeler. The force left him suspended for a moment and then his body slid down to the ground, a thick red stripe of blood following him and staining the side of the truck.

"Come on!" Shego said, dragging him up with a hand on his bicep.

He scrambled into the truck as she melted the gate away with another blast, and in a moment she was by his side.

Whether by some miracle or more dumb luck, the keys were in the ignition. After the motor started he put his foot down hard on the gas and never let it up, willing the vehicle to move. There was an echo of metal upon metal as bullets spattered against the truck, but Drakken knew it was all in vain. With their treachery revealed Shego had no more reason to hold back. Whoever was shooting would find themselves dead if she was annoyed enough.

A figure suddenly ran in front of the truck with hands outstretched and Drakken instinctively stepped on the brakes.

"Don't stop! Just run them over!" Shego growled.

"Dr. Director?" Drakken said as the woman ran up to Shego's side of the truck and shouted at them through the open window.

"Why!? How could you betray—!?"

She was interrupted by one of Shego's green blasts. It knocked her down hard, leaving bloody and smoking wounds on her chest and face.

"Move over!"

Drakken obediently relinquished the driver's seat to Shego and looked sadly at his former boss writhing on the ground in pain as they drove away.

Drakken's chest still hurt from the multiple bullet impacts. He was sure they would leave bruises. But it also hurt from the betrayal. This life was never what he wanted.

"We'll make a deal once we get to Colombia, and then double-cross them once we're on the plane," Shego said, the truck beginning to accelerate as it left the warehouse and started down the jungle road.

"With who?" he asked cautiously.

"Don Mario."

Drakken's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"We'll offer him a large cut. When he knows who we stole it from, he'll be more than willing."

"You've...dealt with him before?" Drakken said fearfully.

"I've worked for him."

The possible implications made Drakken sick to his stomach. Why, why had she chosen this life? What had happened to her?

"Will we need more synthodrones...for when we cross him?"

"Nah." Shego leaned back in the seat as the truck made it up to sixty miles per hour, steering with one hand atop the wheel while she studied the titanium-clawed glove on her other. One corner of her mouth curled lazily upward, but the smirk didn't reach her eyes. "And you know...we can get even more money out of him."

"How?"

She flared her hand, illuminating the cab in a terrifying green light. "We'll just offer his head to the highest bidder."

"Oh..."

Drakken's mind and heart were in turmoil as he studied her, a facsimile of the person he had known and loved for years as she drove away with their billion-dollar prize

He still loved her. It was the only explanation for why he kept following after her, obeying her every whim, committing crimes that were in his mind unthinkable. But how long could he survive watching her kill without a thought, sometimes even taking pleasure in the act?

She kept falling, falling away from the real world and into a place he wasn't sure he could follow.

He reached out and took her gloved hand in his and kissed the back of it. He knew his eyes bore the desperation he was feeling, and there was nothing he could do to conceal it.

When she looked at him this time there was no evidence of the person he used to know. No glimmer of hope, no response whatsoever. But worse...this time he recognized the beginnings of indifference in her eyes.

He wondered how long it would be before she fell away from him, too.

#kim possible #fanfiction #fanfic #drakgo #drakken #shego #drakken x shego #shego x drakken #dragko