#and yeah I don’t really want to talk to my pastor because I’m so tired of being hurt and disappointed…

[aceofstars16]

Some prayer requests, one more minor but still really frustrating, and one that I’m just…struggling to do…

1. I know I should say something to my pastor about how I’ve been hurt, but now his wife’s mom passed away so I don’t want to add to any pain but also…it’s been months and he’s invited to one of my friend’s birthday party next week so I just…feel stuck and not sure what to do…

2. I’ve messaged a person from Odyssey twice about if I can edit my own pictures instead of them using the edits they’ve shared, and I haven’t heard anything back…I’m probably gonna try to email someone else but it’s really frustrating because…I’m not proud of one of them, the way it is edited looks so *bad* to the point I’m ashamed that my name is on it. And two pictures I don’t *think* they could make look bad, but one that I really love hasn’t been shared yet and I *do not* want them to mess it up (I’m currently trying to edit that one myself, so I’ll have my edited versions all ready to go). It’s just…discouraging and frustrating 😖

I’d appreciate prayers that they actually get back to me and I can send them my edited versions to use for the event instead

[shipskicksandgiggles]

dialogue prompts

so for those unaware of how my life tends to go, I end up in a lot of situations where I end up saying something weird or people say weird things to me, and I like adapting those things into prompt lists. send whatever ship/character/what have you with a number and we’ll see how this goes

“Did I go too far?” “Did you go too far? I called my husband a cartoon lesbian!”

“You’re throwing candy at him and he doesn’t even have his tits out.” “That’s how he gets a peanut butter cup.”

“Conservative radio? That has to be Rush Limbaugh.” “Fuck Rush Limbaugh!”

“I’m a massive fucking atheist, but it brings me so much joy to picture Nancy Reagan in hell.”

“You’re so small, it’s like your body can’t contain your excitement. It’s really funny to watch actually.”

“Do not use the word ‘curate’ in relation to 80s heavy metal. You picked it. ‘Curate’, fuck off.”

“I think the neighbors got evicted.” “No, really? It’s about time.”

“You’re like the guy, what’s his name, can’t talk to girls?” “I’d be mad if you weren’t totally right.”

“When you were little I thought you might have been autistic.” “When I was little?”

“You have been gone for six hours-” “Hello child.” “Hi dad- more than six hours actually-”

“I almost took the wrong exit and ended up in Canada, so that’s my day.”

“Who has childproof locks on their car doors?” “What?” “I don’t know, I got stuck in the backseat of a car because of childproofing that shouldn’t exist.”

“I feel like your boyfriend can’t cook.” “Why would you think that?” “Because you cook for him sometimes.” “Why would that mean he can’t though?”

“I think my grandpa tried to set me up with his pastor’s son. Stop laughing, this is serious.”

“Why did she hate you?” “No idea, at that point I was just trying to survive middle school.”

“Well, I mean, the waitress was flirting with you.” “The waitress was what now?”

“What kind of cosmic fuck up did you make to result in this kind of karma?” “I don’t know. I’m so tired.”

“What are you, a dog? Stop chewing on that, you absolute child.”

“You’re just boobing all over the place.” “Boobing.”

“Wait, hold on, let me guess. May of whatever year we were in seventh grade in Detroit.” “Yeah actually, what the fuck? That’s so specific, how did you do that?”

“I like that you call information about yourself lore… Wait, did you just say you got hit by a car?” “I love the order you processed that in.”

“Who had them pegged as the bitch with the biggest tits in this apartment? Not me, that’s for sure.”

“Come here, I need you to bless the vodka bottle.” “I don’t believe in Jesus.” “You don’t need to, just come bless the bottle.”

“I’m stealing his daughter and if he’s still being a homophobe I’ll steal his wife too.”

“I broke up with my boyfriend and my therapist fucking cheered.” “I don’t disagree with her.”

“You would suck dick for a crab rangoon.” “Oh for sure.”

“Someone just handed me condoms in a way that seemed like he thought I had the hardware to be able to use them, however I like that I pass as someone who does, so I’ll take it.”

“So you’re like, an expert on the Titanic, right?” “Is this about the submarine?” “Maybe.” “Great, buckle in, you’ve come to the right person.”

“Do you want me to explain bottom surgery to you? Because I think you’re going to get grossed out.” “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” (dear reader, she was, in fact, grossed out)

“You have main character things happen to you while having the attitude of a quirky side character, and I love it.”

“Is that a lemon?” “It’s a cat, but I see where you’re coming from.”

“During pride month? This is homophobia.” “That was loud.” “Good, I hope the homophobe heard.”

“He was like, ‘is your roommate hot?’ and I was like ‘what, yeah, why?’ like who asks that?” “You think I’m hot?”

“So I have a proposition.” “No.” “You don’t even know what it is.” “Yes I do. That one asshole is hitting you up for a booty call. Don’t.” “Bitch.”

“Where are your wisdom teeth?” “Probably in a medical waste container somewhere if they’re still on this plane of existence.”

“I thought he was kidding!” “Who would joke about a turtle?”

“Hey, can someone drive me to the Urgent Care?” “Like now?” “If you’re not busy.”

“Listen. I avoided admitting myself to a hospital for any reason for almost 17 years. Don’t yell at me for not knowing that wasn’t an Urgent Care problem.”

“Whose Rabbi came to the soccer game?”

“Are you fucking colorblind? That’s purple.”

“I got hit on at the grocery store.” “Was he cute?” “He looked greasy.”

“How do you not know who David Bowie is?” “That is the loudest I’ve ever heard you, holy fuck.”

“When I get wine drunk, I get horny.” “We could have a threesome.” “There’s four people here.” “Oh. Foursome then.”

“Hey can I give you a dollar for one of those beanie babies? I need to butcher it for a cat toy.” “Sure?”

“Sit, we need to talk to you about something.” “Remember when you got high a couple weeks ago and had a gender crisis?”

“Are you going to stab me?” “What? Oh, butter knife, sorry.”

“You know when men have that little swoop of hair? The queef?” “Oh my god I’m crying, you mean a quiff.”

“There is a very large bug on my flowers and I don’t want to touch it.” “That’s my cicada, he’s already dead.”

“Dude, I’ve lived with you for like three months, you’re so obviously a switch.”

“Sometimes you say things and I do not question you because they are the most on brand things you could possibly say. Like sure, I’ll buy that you listen to punk music and have a high pain tolerance. That seems right.”

[kittiofdoom]

tagged by the lovely @socially-awkward-skeleton

I finally wrote myself out of the hole I was stuck in from chapter 3 of Midnight Sins, mostly by working on a little part further on in the chapter and now I just have to go back and fill in the gaps. So here’s a little segment of a very onesided conversation between Ava and Pastor Jerome.

no pressure tagging: @strangefable @detectivelokis @hoesephseed @direwombat @thomrainer @phillipsgraves​ @sstewyhosseini​

The sign of the Spread Eagle flickered, buzzing in the way only neon signs do. It was annoying and soothing all at once. Ava stared at it, not really focusing on what was in front of her but it was something to fixate upon while she sat on the roof of the building and cursed Nick Rye in all the ways she knew how while staring into the middle distance.

Fucking selfish bastard.

“Mind if I join you?”

Ava startled, a wild look in her eye. Hand twitched, inching towards the pistol at her waist before she saw who had disturbed her. Her hand lingered probably longer than it should've before she set it back down on the tiles next to her.

Pastor Jerome.

He looked tired, but no less resolute with two bottles of beer in hand that he raised in peace offering—one the cap still firmly sealed.

Ava really didn't want to be dealing with people and yet she humoured the man, gesturing with a wave to the spot next to her. Jerome smiled and dipped his head before climbing over the railing.

“Don't fall off and break something,” she grumbled, accepting the bottle as it moved into her range. The bottle cap was on securely, Ava made sure to test it before finally popping it off with her knife. Jerome wasn't phased, having been warned by Mary May just how in depth Ava's checking of her drinks went. If she so much has suspected someone had tampered with it it would be refused.

“So Dep...” Jerome began as he sat down and Ava heaved a sigh like she knew this was coming.

“Jerome, you've known me how long now? What, ten years?” Ava snapped, taking a swig of the bottle to try and stop herself before she went completely off on the man. It didn't work because as soon as she finished she was talking again. “Can you at least do me the honour of using my fucking name if I'm going to get a lecture? Or would it be a sermon? Well I've got my holy water-” she swirled the bottle with a sneer “-so do your worst.”

Jerome was silent for a good few moments and Ava watched the way his brows furrowed together just a fraction as he was thinking. She watched the realization dawn on his face and it was almost satisfying—almost—but the tight knot in her chest merely constricted and sat like dead weight.

“Avery,” he finally said. He reached up to scrape a hand over his face before adjusting his glasses. “I'm sorry, we get caught up in the titles, especially with everything going on.”

“Yeah, it's easier to send a figurehead to bleed for a cause when they don't have a name-” She didn't get a chance to finish her sentence because Jerome jumped in.

“-Now Avery it's not.. we're not-”

“-No, I am talking.” Ava cut him right off again in return. She stared back at the sign, following the curves of the letters with her gaze because if she looked at his face that white knuckled grip she had on her self control would start to unravel again. “Don't tell me it's not like that, because I've lived it Jerome. And you'll say that that I'm valued and important, you might even throw in a God works in mysterious ways and we need to work together to overcome this and you can't do it without me. And maybe you can't, but I can't fly Nick Rye's plane and I'm not apologizing for punching him in the face. He's just going to have to deal with the consequences of his actions. I'm not doing it.”

[goldencuffs]

persuasion

@lamenweek day six: auguste lives au

It’s four-thirty on a Wednesday, and Damen is exhausted, worn down and irritated over the fact that he’s still stuck in the gym storage room, sorting through eight boxes of equipment.

The year seven kid in here with him, Peter, is slow and mullish: he’s only here because Huet gave him detention for not doing his homework for the third week in a a row.

Damen is here because his entire faculty is incompetent. These boxes were supposed to be unpacked a month ago, at the start of the term, but after Kallias walked out, things have been… hectic, to say the least.

In the stifling heat, Peter’s odour is unpleasant, because he’s thirteen, and thirteen year old boys reek.

Damen is seriously considering telling him to leave, but the extra pair of hands, no matter how small and slow, are still better than nothing.

Then, Damen hears the squeak of trainers across the shiny linoleum floor, and a tall, slim figure leans against the doorway, arms crossed.

Damen bites back a sigh, his irritation spiking.

Laurent says, “Hey you, fuck off.”

Peter balks. “Me?”

Damen has his back turned, but in the ensuing silence, he knows that Laurent is staring the poor kid down, unwilling to repeat himself.

“Mr Vallis…” Peter starts, voice high and whiny.

This time Damen sighs loudly. “It’s fine, Peter. You can go home.”

Peter does so, without a goodbye, and when the gym doors close once more, Laurent says, “Damen, I need to talk to you.”

Damen turns around, mirroring Laurent’s pose. “Laurent, I’ve told you a hundred times not to call me by name at school. It’s Mr Vallis to you inside these gates. Always.”

Laurent rolls his eyes. Everything about him, as usual, is immaculate. There isn’t a single hair out of place, he’s still wearing his blazer, and unlike the most boys in this school, he hasn’t loosened his tie or unbuttoned his shirt to wave off the heat.

The only indication that he isn’t a weird, strange robot is the pink across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

“Unless you’re planning on help me with this, I need you to fuck off too,” Damen says, ready to turn back around.

“Actually, Mr Vallis,” Laurent straightens, and Damen doesn’t miss the inflection in his name, “I need a favour.”

Damen unpacks the third box, almost bursting into tears when he sees they’re nets. Nets always go on the top shelf. His back is going to break by the end of it.

“What is it?” He belatedly asks, realising Laurent is watching him.

Laurent presses his tongue to his top lip. “I know there’s a spot open on the wrestling team, and it would look really good on my uni applications if I wrote that I’m—”

“I’m going to stop you right there, Revere. I already told you before the holidays that if your grades don’t improve—”

“They have! I managed to get a B in Ancient History—"

“You need a B average, not just in one subject. I’ve already checked, and you’re barely scraping a C.”

Laurent makes an indignant scoff. “Yes, but it would be a B average if Auguste helped me out with Chemistry—which is the only subject I’m failing, by the way. And he doesn’t help me at all—what’s the point of him being the best Chem teacher at this school if he won’t put me in his class!”

Damen runs a hand over his face. “You know you can’t have your brother teaching you—it’s against school policy.”

“Fine, whatever,” Laurent shrugs. “But, I swear I’ve been trying Dam—Mr Vallis. Can’t you make an exception for me?”

“Absolutely not,” Damen snorts.

“Ugh! What’s the point of knowing teachers if they don’t help you out when you need it?”

Damen shrugs. “Tough luck, kid. If I gave you the spot, it might keep someone who actually deserves it from joining.”

“I deserve it.”

Damen rolls his eyes.

“Fine,” Laurent adopts a haughty look, head held high. “I’ll tell your boyfriend Auguste that you’re being a dick—”

“We’ve been over this Laurent; I’m not dating your brother.”

“Hmm, could have fooled me,” Laurent mutters in a dangerous undertone. “All that touching and cuddling and inside jokes—”

Damen knows that he shouldn’t rise to bait presented to him by a belligerent eighteen year old, but he’s tired, and it’s been a long, long day so he snaps, “Yeah, that’s what friends do, you little shit. Not that you would know what it’s like to have one.”

He regrets it as soon as he says it: Damen is the adult here (the proper one) and more importantly, he’s Laurent’s teacher. A professional.

Laurent’s face falls, and genuine hurt settles into his eyes.

The corners of his mouth droop, and his voice shakes as he says, “You’re such an asshole.”

Damen sighs, “Laurent—”

“Fuck you, Damen,” Laurent says, and turns on his heel in one smooth, elegant move.

*

Two weeks later, Auguste holds one last barbeque party to mourn the end of summer.

It’s not a crowded party: just four other teachers from school, two of Auguste’s uni friends, and of course, bloody Laurent.

He hasn’t said a single word to Damen all afternoon, the rude shit. Not that Damen expects anything less from the most prickly person he knows.

Laurent normally doesn’t even hang out with them, but since he turned eighteen over the winter, Auguste has been trying to include him in their gatherings a lot more.

It’s still a bit surreal to see Laurent easily holding down conversations with men twice his age, a beer bottle pressed to his mouth.

(That part is not so surprising. Damen caught Laurent guzzling an entire bottle of wine when he was sixteen, in this very kitchen).

Orlant touches Laurent’s knee, and says something that makes him laugh raucously.

Damen stands from the couch and makes his way over.

“Hey,” he says, “I think your brother’s calling you.”

Laurent frowns, eyes drifting over to the alfresco, where Auguste is belting Wannabe by Spice Girls and ignoring the grill, Lazar attempting to beatbox along with the words.

God, the steaks are going to burn.

“I don’t think so,” Laurent says.

When Damen doesn’t leave, Orlant says, “You good, man?”

Damen doesn’t bother to reply. He frowns at Laurent. “You’ve been drinking non stop since you got here.”

Laurent throws him a disgusted look. “You’re not my teacher outside of school hours. Fuck off.”

Orlant raises an eyebrow, looking between them. “You’re his student?”

“Barely,” Laurent mutters. “He just makes us do laps and teaches us abstinence like a pastor from the seventies.”

“The curriculum suggests that I—”

“And he won’t put me on his wrestling team because of a small technicality.”

“It’s not a small—”

“You should let him on the team, man,” Orlant says, smiling at Laurent.

Laurent smiles back, eyelashes fluttering.

Damen frowns again.

“Thank you,” Laurent says to Orlant. “I wish you were the coach. Nikandros spent all summer helping me perfect my form, and it’s all been for nothing.”

Damen feels his face crack. “Nikandros? Since when have you been hanging out with him?”

Laurent gives him a devious smile. “Oh, I can be very persuasive. He spent the entire time telling me how good I was.” He flutters his lashes at Damen this time. “It’s a shame you won’t be able to see for yourself, Mr Vallis.”

Orlant watches Laurent shamelessly.

Damen grits his teeth, blood rushing to his head, and grips Laurent’s bicep, ignoring his “Hey!”

He drags Laurent to the unoccupied living room, pushing him away in disgust the moment they’re alone. “What the fuck is your problem, Revere?”

“What the fuck is yours?” Laurent snaps, rubbing his bicep. “Have you lost it already? You usually go crazy around midterms.”

“Shut up,” Damen hisses. “What are you playing at? Did you seriously go to Nikandros for wrestling tips?”

Laurent is still rubbing his bicep, the drama queen. “Well, yes. You wouldn’t help me, so I had to look somewhere else for… expertise. And Nikandros was more than willing to help. Eventually.”

Damen can feel a headache coming on. “Nikandros is shit at wrestling.”

Laurent laughs. “Oh my god. You’re acting like a baby.” “And you’re being your usual intolerable self.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Now Laurent looks livid, his eyes flashing with malice.

“You haven’t even tried to get to know me for the last three years. When you told me I had to improve my grades, I studied my ass off. I got a tutor. I even went to fucking summer school. And yeah, I might only have a C average, but I’ve improved in literally everything. I’ve only failed one subject! At least Nikandros was willing to listen to me. You just behave like an ass.”

Damen swallows, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks away, down at the shiny, tiled floor.

He sighs, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“What was that?”

Damen looks at Laurent, at the sun shining down his head. “I said I’m sorry. Perhaps I have been… a little unfair.”

Laurent snorts and presses his mouth together,

“I didn’t realise how hard you’ve been working,” Damen says, appreciative. “I’m proud of you.”

Laurent goes red. He rolls his eyes, but it’s half-hearted. “Whatever. You’re still a dick.”

Damen smiles. “Yeah, I guess.”

There’s a brief, awkward silence.

Then Damen says, “Okay, give me your speech.”

“My speech, Mr Vallis?”

“Yeah,” Damen raises an eyebrow. “Give me whatever speech you gave Nikandros. If it can convince him to teach you to wrestle, it might convince me to give you a shot on the team.”

Laurent stands straight, assessing him for a moment. “Are you sure, Mr Vallis?”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

Laurent gives him a smile Damen has never seen before. It unleashes something dark in his eyes.

Damen swallows, his heart suddenly picking up pace.

Laurent saunters towards him, still with that smile. He comes close enough that Damen can see the small smattering of freckles on his nose.

Damen presses his back to the counter. “Laurent…”

Laurent bites his lip. “Everyone thinks you’re the hottest teacher at school, Mr Vallis. I’ve had a crush on you since my first year.”

Damen coughs, startled. “Laurent, what…”

“Do you want me to give my speech or not?”

Damen’s chest heaves with his breaths. He assesses Laurent’s beautiful face, his mind carefully shutting down.

“Yes,” he says quietly.

Laurent’s smile is sweet and shy.

He’s still wearing that smile when he gets down on his knees. His fingers are quick, nimble as they unbuckle Damen’s belt.

The clank of metal is loud, even amongst the drone of the party.

Damen should stop this. He should say something. Laurent is his student. More than that, he’s his best friend’s just-legal little brother. Damen should—

Laurent kisses the tip of his cock through the cloth, dragging his tongue over it, making it damp.

“Fuck, Laurent.”

Laurent pulls back and smiles at him, eyes half-mast. “I managed to convince Nikandros in about three minutes. Do you think you’ll last a bit longer?”

Damen grunts, hips moving in aborted jerks as Laurent slides down his underwear.

“Let’s find out, shall we?”

[tiredcath]

Zukka Fic Recs

after atla came back into pop culture i found myself falling back in love with zukka which resulted in me reading (almost) every zukka fic on ao3 and here are my favorites

Transference by The_Quatermasters (146k)

In a modern AU, Zuko has to deal with settling in a new school after expulsion, dealing with an angry ex and an abusive father. Maybe his new found friendships and growing closeness with Sokka will help him make it through. 

Borderlines by The_Quatermasters (73k)

Three years after the war, the work still isn't quite done and the Gaang is scattered across the continents in their efforts to help the world recover. When Aang and Katara pay visit to the Fire Nation where Zuko is Fire Lord and Sokka acts as Ambassador for the Water Tribe, sparks fly between the siblings over Sokka's life choices.

Ashes Inside When You Finish Your Song by Muncaster (47k)

Sokka writes lyrics for his sister’s band. Zuko plays piano and is unnecessarily nice. Fellas, is it gay to write love songs about your friend and his golden eyes?

(AKA, a modern band AU featuring The Gaang, crappy software equipment, homoerotic lyrics, and the realization that maybe, if you think about a guy every night before you sleep, you just might be in love with him.)

sirens & sleepless nights by Satirrian (54k)

Life can be pretty hard living in a city under a totalitarian regime. Between adhering to the ridiculous curfew, keeping himself from being gunned down by a passing patrolman, and paying his unnecessary tolls to the state for, say, breathing, Sokka has his hands full just getting to work. Add aiding a resistance group on top of that, and Sokka should really be getting paid for this.

Then, one night, Sokka finds an injured patrolman collapsed in the street, who tells him with blood on his lips, “If the patrol finds me, I’m dead.”

 Real Slow by surveycorpsjean (21k)

“I see.” Zuko closes the scroll. “Is the Water Tribe sending a replacement?”

“Uh yeah,” Sokka gestures to himself dramatically. “You’re looking at him.”

 First by HoneyBadgerMole (20k)

Zuko has been nurturing a crush on the jock in his AP Psych class but he has been too scared to talk to him until they get paired up for a project.

the benefits of getting a flat tire by LesbeanLatte (64k)

Zuko makes an impromptu decision to run away from home after a disturbing conversation with Azula. Unfortunately, some plans are better when they're actually, well, planned. Zuko isn't counting on getting a flat tire almost as soon as he's far enough away from the city to really be in the middle of nowhere.

Sokka is immediately taken with the stranger he and his friends find stranded on the side of the road during an afternoon joy ride. However, he has no idea what he's getting involved with and a kind attempt to help a fellow teen in need turns into a massive coverup for a missing person who just so happens to be the son of the mayor of Ba Sing Se.

Azula was just trying to help her big brother - in her own way - by telling him things she thought he deserved to know. Now the situation has gotten wildly out of control. Did she enjoy seeing Zuko upset and afraid? Of course. Had she intended to endanger his life? Not necessarily, but of course, her idiot brother overreacted to everything and that's what happened and now she doesn't know how to stop the chain of events she's indirectly put in place like dominoes.

Operation Leverage by snowandfire (50k)

Sokka's instincts are onto something great. Zuko just wants to serve tea and brood in peace. Ironically, Toph is the only one who can see what's really going on.

 The Stingray by Smediterranea (24k)

“You’re not carrying me.”

“I don’t mind,” the lifeguard says easily.

“I can just hop over.”

“On sand?”

Zuko will never admit it, but being carried feels pretty nice. The lifeguard sets him down and eyes him warily.

“Are you really all by yourself?” he asks in a worried tone. “No friends in town you can call to check on you?”

“No,” Zuko confirms. Tears are forming again with alarming speed; his foot throbs painfully with every passing second.

“What kind of burrito do you want?”

“You don’t have to —“ Zuko repeats.

“I’m getting al pastor. You like al pastor?”

 AU: Zuko falls for Sokka, the super hot lifeguard who helps him after an unfortunate encounter with a stingray.

 it's the illusion of separation by argentoswan (110k)

Sokka takes a job washing dishes at the new tea shop in town. It's a great gig, until he finds out his only coworker is his old high school bully. Sokka really should quit, but he also really needs to afford rent.

Also, Zuko is kind of hot now.

 People like to think war means something by trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once (21k)

Sokka was the first to leave.

Somehow that hurt the most. . . . Not long after Zuko becomes Firelord, forces gather in the South and next thing he knows he's thrown into a civil war with almost no one by his side. Maybe healing is longer and more complicated than it needs to be, but with the right people by your side it is always possible.

 a way that will destroy you by anothermistakemade (14k)

In the wake of Ozai's death, Zuko begins to fall apart. Sokka will do everything in his power to make sure that doesn't happen.

-

or, zuko might be losing his mind, but he also might just be really sad & traumatized

 Those Who Favor Fire by CSHfic, VSfic (30k)

After a failed attempt on his life, Sokka fakes his death, dons a disguise, and infiltrates the would-be assassin's ranks in an attempt to bring them down from the inside.

Zuko learns of his husband's tragic death, mourns, and vows revenge.

 Words Mean More at Night by DaisytheDoodleDog (28k)

Even ten years after the end of the war, rebellions rise and risk the balance of the nations. Sokka was willing to do anything to protect his people, which is perhaps why he's leading an army against the rebellion, attacking only as a last result. But Sokka's unwinding, it's taking a toll on him, and the only thing keeping him grounded are the letter Zuko and him exchange late in the night when no one can see the messenger hawks. But as they say, nothing's fair in love and war.

another word for wanting by eurydicees (23k)

Sokka begins to dream of his soulmate when he's eleven years old, and it just gets harder from there. Or, 125 moments soulmates share, and none of them come easy.

(In which your dreams are your soulmate's memories, and Sokka dreams of an all-consuming fire, growing and eating at his soulmate until it burns up the connection between their souls. In which they find love anyways.)

 It Has Only Just Begun by Kirazalea (39k)

There is a bitter triumph in crashing when you should be soaring

Zuko had now chosen the path his uncle had been trying so hard to show him; he had someone who believed in him, who maybe loved him; he was travelling with the Avatar and they apparently had a plan to end the war. By all accounts, Zuko should be smiling.

But Uncle was gone (captured by Azula, and Zuko didn't think she would kill him, but he didn’t, couldn’t, know for sure). The Avatar was barely breathing (he could still die at any second and there was nothing any of them could do about it). Azula had conquered the last Earth Kingdom stronghold (all those innocent people who were now at her mercy). It seemed like, for every step Zuko took forward, the world sent him back three more.

But he was determined to push forward anyways. He needed to make his uncle proud, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

aka: zuko joins the gaang at the end of season 2

 Nightmares and Reveries by HisMomoness (20k)

Zuko doesn't sleep because when he does, he's haunted by nightmares. Sokka worms his way into a job and makes it his mission to get Zuko to relax. Lots of head pets and one vacation to the South Pole later, Zuko might just be getting the hang of it.

Cue pining, some fluff, and eventual romance.

 The One Who Stopped Time by ohhihoney (66k)

All hope was lost to Zuko until one day, his uncle asked a random person at the Jasmine Dragon to tutor his nephew. Gritting his teeth and embarrassed beyond the point of no return, Zuko gave the blue eyed boy his number.

Little did Zuko know how much Sokka would change his world.

 Rubbed Off Stars by ohhihoney (2k)

Sokka wasn't going to just sit and watch the boy at the back of the bus cry while trying to rub off pride flags off his cheeks.

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

WIP

Ozymandias, King of Kings by Think_of_a_Wonderful_Thought (168k)

After that fateful Agni Kai, Ozai makes a different call. Branded as a traitor and banished to a prison camp, Zuko learns how cruel the Fire Nation can be to its citizens. Three years, a water tribe raid, and an unexpected meeting with a gang of over-enthusiastic idealistic children puts Zuko back in the spotlight. The revolution is coming and it wants another poster boy, but Zuko is not willing to lend his face to the cause.

 Another Brother by AvocadoLove (312k)

It was a mission of revenge. There weren't supposed to be any survivors, but Chief Hakoda couldn't bring himself to kill the Fire Nation boy. Against his better judgment, he brought him home. A Zuko joins the Water Tribe story.

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

BONUS : zuko x jet

Something to Hold Onto by Wildgoosery (122k)

Since the day the walls of Ba Sing Se fell, the Freedom Fighters have struggled to protect what remains of the city and its people. Jet and his second command, a mysterious boy named Li, have spent the summer piecing together an army, hoping for a chance to take the city back for good. But Li is also Zuko, and the time for that secret is quickly running out. Soon, he'll have to decide exactly who he is, what cause he's going to fight for, and where his heart lies.

[ladecena]

I Love You ❤️

           Strong wind makes her long wavy black hair go in different direction, the blazing sun that shines through her beautiful face making her eyes brighter than anything you will ever see, and when the rain showers her at times where she wants to be alone actually made her happy and alive again it’s like washing all her worries, pain and miseries and making them a lesson that thought her to be strong and beautiful on her own.

           Walking a long road on a sunny day is refreshing wearing a comfy shirt, jeans and some nice comfortable shoes unlike others who prefer dresses and high heels, having my hair braided left and right. The pathway I’m walking right now is the same pathway me and my friends always walk to, nothing changes there are still benches to sit to when you are tired the street food corner that is still within sight if you sit in one of the benches. laughing with them is one of the memories I have the most.

           “where already on our second year and we are also together in the same class right?” her friend asked her, they were around 14 years old and on their second year of high school around this time they are still careless, innocent and pure to know the difficulties the world have.

           Walking again on the never-ending corridor of her alma mater, the table they always passed by after greeting the kind guard who where always sitting there, the small basketball court that serves as a temporary court for every student, the canteen monitored by hot-tempered but still always smiling lady’s behind the counter and also the giant tree on the middle where you can eat and also a hangout place together with her friends because of the concrete table and benches.

           “Kim?” a manly voice calls out that momentarily cut-off her being nostalgic and reminiscence all the emotions that she let out in this place

           “Hi, Pastor? I’m glad to see you again” she said smiling at the now grey haired but still strong and resilient looking man who show and guide them all through their walk on the path that they choose.

           “Hello Kim, I see you haven’t really change, lets meet the principal?” she nods and let him walk ahead of her. Nothing really changes in this campus, Kim taught to herself all the stairs, railings, door rooms, and the paints also remains.

           Kim graduated on a nice and outstanding university she even reached her dreams. Having work to support her parents and that work is a part of what she dreamed to be that’s why she was being encouraged to give inspiration to the students who are currently attending her alma mater.

           “Ma’am Carina said there is someone who would accompany me on the day” she’s thinking about who it would be the principal is talking about. Kim was just wearing simple clothes she was comfortable with because it’s just a meeting. Going down to the same staircase she walked by earlier and onto the last step she bumps into someone.

           “Kim?” a voice she hardly hears after graduating on her high school days makes her eyes wider and urge her to look at the male who owns the usual comforting voice it’s warm and inviting, and she loves it the most. Looking up at him he doesn’t seems to change at all he is much taller just right for her to hear his heartbeat every time she would have the chance to lean on his wide shoulder, to hug her and can comfort her anytime. His Brown eyes are firm, steady and prepared to embrace Kim when she falls to take care of her and warm her with love. Smiling at her he really doesn’t change.

           “Paul!” Kim exclaimed her excitement is noticeable “how are you?” she added

           “I’m great, I’ve become who I want to be” he says still smiling at her “how about you?”

           “Still the same, but I also reach the one who I want to be am” Kim says smiling and looking up on him. “So, you are the one ma’am Carina was talking about I guess?”

           “Oh! So, you’re going to be a speaker also? That’s great!”

           Paul ask Kim if she have time and invited her to eat out also for them to have a little chat about what happened in their separate lives after graduating. So, Kim decided to sit on one of the benches in the new canteen that was made before they graduated because Paul is having a meeting with ma’am Carina like she did earlier.

           Blushing and talking to herself.

           “What did you just do!” she scream silently to herself. Ah! It is still refreshing to sit here, it’s a shame we didn’t get to eat and sit here for a long time.

           “Kim!? You’re also late? That’s new” Pamela one of her friend who has a perfect attendance on being late  

             “Yeah! I think my alarm broke” Kim sadly said

             Laughing silently “That’s alright, at least you get to see your crush first thing in the morning. Look!” Pamela teases her while patting her back

              Putting her chin on her hand she whispers “In front of him and even I just see a glimpse of him I’m always blushing, I’m such a Wimp”

 Taking a glance of the guy sitting two table from us but still I know who, I blush again. He looks like he wakes up late and because he lives far away, I think the traffic got him.

             “Kim! Come on I’m finished talking with ma’am” slowly walking to me his smile made me broke from remembering from past. “we should go now?” he asks sitting beside me.

           “Yes! Sure, Let’s go?” walking out and passing the things where I remember most of my happy, sad, exciting, and scarry moments of my life, I’m sure I’ll come back again.

           “You’re driving a car? That’s cool” I say while blushing Paul replied a “Yup” and open the passengers sit for me. I do also have a car but I’m glad I didn’t bring it here and just walk if ever I wouldn’t have a chance to see him this handsome.

           A beautiful place where we sit under a large and fertile tree grasses that you’ll feel on your heel there is also a stone passage you can walk, and yellow lights are spread around the place so when it’s already dark you can still be able to see the one you were with. Sitting across each other is a better way for the two of us to have a clear talk, and its way better for me if we are across each other, I can stealth a look and focus on him.

           “The place is really beautiful, where’d you know this place?” I ask smiling mischievously at him

           “Yeah? Thanks too google” Paul says making the two of us laugh, internet and social media really makes living easier and more convenient for everyone.

           “So, you’re already a Pilot?” I ask him after we calmed down and for us to have a conversation while waiting for the food

           “Unfortunately, but still I’m late at finishing my course” he said staring at me after he look at the stars who are present tonight

           “For 2 years, right? I admire you for continuing your studies. Well, you’re one of the brightest students in our batch” I said to him while also admiring him, he doesn’t really change at all

           “Your still the same, always giving me compliments.” He smiles at me that made me also smile at him.

           As our dinner arrives which is a creamy flavor white sauce pasta that tingle my taste buds and just perfectly creamy that I like, stake that is juicy, tender, and loaded with flavor and lastly a wine that is bright and has a youthful color that perfectly match for Paul while I choose to drink cucumber juice with lemon that I love the most.

           Looks like we made it

           Look how far we’ve come, my baby

             This place we are eating have a live Band not the rock one but the calming one that made this place even more perfect. Most of the guest who where also eating are slowly standing walking on the middle stage part to dance, there are married, teens which are only friends but also couples.

           We might a took the long way

           We knew we’d get there someday

           “Can I have this dance?” walking over me and offering his hands to me looking up at him and placing my hand on his hand and walking through to get on to the center his big, warm and comforting hand guide me all trough our walk

           They said, “I bet they’ll never make it”

But just look at us holding on

We’re still together, still going strong

 “I’m thinking are you always going to be my first dance?” I ask teasing him

He nods his head smile at me and says, “can’t I?” squinting my eyes I placed my hands on his neck and he pulls me close enough for the both of us and for the sake of my heart, I guess?

           You’re still the one I run to

The one that I belong to

You’re still the one I want for life

             He places both his hands on my waist “The last time I held you like this you’re waist still have some fats, but now look at you, you really did change” he says to me I don’t know if his mocking me or complimenting me

You’re still the one that I love

The only one I dream of

You’re still the one I kiss goodnight

           “I’ll take that as a compliment” and we laugh. Like we are young again still in our teenage year full of life, carelessness, innocence and being pure to have any Idea that we would become like this one day.

           I’m so glad we made it

Look how far we’ve come, my baby

 Our day ended with him bringing me home wishing for us to meet again, and for us to convey what we want to say to the current young ones our Alma Mater are protecting and guiding through their journey as an individual.

Casual short sleeve blue summer dress just above her knees and wearing a glass looking 2-inch ankle strap heals finish with a simple make-up and a single half side braided hair Kim walked down on the stage after she finished delivering her encouragement and for Paul to deliver his massage as Paul where speaking a calm and refreshing wind blows making him and her smiling admiringly at each other.

Kim sees again the younger version of herself and Paul that are on the process of making what they are together now has been fulfilled, how the way they see, cherished and care for each other.  

Kim sees the struggles, hardship, and obstacle that they experienced and experiencing up until now. Most especially appearing before her eyes how they manage to overcome their struggles, surpass all the hardship and be successful through all the obstacle laid out for them.

“I hope that all of you even though you struggle like Kim and stop studying for a while like me still dreams and achieve what we both of us have and will just be making.” Paul ends his message smiling at Kim.

Walking again up on the stage with Paul helping Kim by holding her hands. The event speaker congratulates all the student and give acknowledgements to both Paul and Kim.

Kim trusts Paul and Paul believes to Kim, he completes her the most and she fill’s him love that he believes no one could ever give to him. Paul is her longtime crush, and he loves Kim endlessly.

“Once again let’s give our thanks’ to Mr. and Mrs. Cruz for sharing such a wonderful and inspiring message”

- YellowStrawberry💛

June 13, 2021

[hopevalley]

Season 8, Episode 11: Changing Times

Well, as it turns out, my second Covid vaccine kicked me down hard. After sleeping for quite a long time, though, I’m tired of sleeping and ready to try and get this write-up done.

Surprisingly, or...perhaps not so surprisingly, I don’t think I have that much to say about last night’s episode. I think we’re just too close to the finale for me to feel “safe” in guessing/hoping for anything in particular.

Let’s hit up the plot points like before:

The Triangle

Carson & Faith

Rosemary’s Purpose

School District Problems

Jesse’s Disappearance 

The Triangle

I’m probably one of the few people who liked Nathan who felt like the whole beginning scene was super weird and uncomfortable. Homegirl held his hand for one second in the last episode and now she’s going to warm his serge by the fire (while he just stands there awkwardly??? He could have done that himself while she got him some tea or something idk) and then dress him???

I think we’re meant to see that as her going back to...I don’t know...old habits die hard or something? But she was barely married for any time at all and it’s been three years since Jack died. No way would she be so far into those old habits that she’d fall back into them with Nathan lmao.

Like, it’d be a REALLY GOOD PLOT for a character who had been married for years and lost a spouse (cough Abigail cough) but considering the circumstances it felt like a cheesy fanfiction! I wanted to like it, but I just felt weird about it. Tonal whiplash out the wazoo.

Especially when we had to watch Lucas drive by and see Nathan’s horse at Elizabeth’s house. 

Lucas sadly watching Elizabeth talk to Nathan was also awkward, but at least it gave him the courage he needed to break things off with her.

You’d think I’d have a lot to say about the triangle, but I’m saving all of that for some kind of...post-season discussion. Who is she going to pick? Nathan seems like the most logical writing choice, but it could yet be Lucas. I genuinely don’t care who she chooses so long as she picks someone.

--

Carson & Faith

I like to hate on these two a lot, so you might be surprised to know that I’m enjoying their storyline. I’ve criticized this series over and over for never bothering to portray realistic relationships and one thing I can say about Faith and Carson this season is that things actually feel...plausible.

I also appreciate how they try to tie Carson into the town a bit more: he talks to Henry and Minnie and even Lucas trying to figure things out! It makes perfect sense to me; how do you choose between someone you care about/the potential life you could make with them, and a career that you’re really and truly passionate about?

This is the most interesting Carson has been since Season 5.

Anyway, the pudding scene was genuinely funny, and a great way to break up the stress that I’m sure we were all feeling about his impending proposal. Faith’s reaction to thinking he might propose was...pretty telling. I really wish they hadn’t saved so many dangling plotlines to solve in the final episode, though. I was hoping Faith and Carson’s storyline would be fully figured out in the penultimate episode so that we could let him go (or whatever) in the season finale. It just seems to me like it would be a good, smooth ending for them.

Also, for what it’s worth, they tried doing this kind of plot with Frank in Season 5, but it was rushed and pulled out of thin air; he’d never shown an inclination toward pastoring toward dying children in the past and it was clear that they just needed to write him off the show. With Carson, this sort of plotline works VERY well; he was a surgeon, and he was passionate about it, but that passion took a hit when his wife needed surgery and she died on the table under his hands. He’s had some time to move on from that and process his feelings, so it makes sense that he’d find that passion again. I just wanted to point this out because it’s interesting how well it works for Carson and how...well, not-well it worked with Frank. I really felt like with Frank, it was just a storyline that could have been given to anyone with the same success rate, whereas with Carson they took a look at the character and what we already know of him, and built the storyline specifically for him. That’s good writing, babes!

Anyway, Carson trying to propose in the vague hope that Faith will come with him, even knowing she doesn’t want to leave Hope Valley, is pretty manipulative and awful, but it really goes a long way toward making his character feel like an actual person. Like yeah, he does actually want the best of both worlds. Do you blame him?

--

Rosemary’s Purpose

I know a lot of people are really into this storyline but I found it boring. The only good part was when Lee called the other desk in his office “hers.” Everything else just felt like a bit too much to come to the conclusion that she should run a paper. We already had her “advice” column in the paper and it was...amusing while it lasted, but eh. I just don’t see good storylines coming for her from this angle, especially when they went the route of her finding out she wants to start the paper back up to share information with the town. Are we really going to trust Rosemary’s integrity when it comes to writing news stories, especially when MOST of the time the things she’ll be allowed to write about are, you know, who grew the biggest cabbage? It makes me dread the potential for Round Two of Nosy Rosie.

I dunno. I used to really like Rosemary but this season’s been pretty rough on her character. Good for you for wanting to find your passion career, but most of us work so that we can eat, not for a fun way to pass the time and stay busy. :/

--

School District Problems

Mr. Landis is right and Elizabeth is an idiot. Sure the school board is being assholes for no reason (as if they’d care if one blind child was sitting in a classroom in one western town lol), but Elizabeth’s really going to dismiss his concerns about how she can juggle the added work necessary to teach Angela while also keeping up with everyone else?

It sucks that Angela will get left out, but Elizabeth should be working with Mr. Landis to come up with a plan to teach Angela without sacrificing the education of her other students. Better yet, she could rely on her friends for advice. Like Rosemary.

Still no apology there...

Anyway, a projected 100 new kids? That’s outlandish. The only way that will happen is if they open a factory in Hope Valley, and even then it could take years. I MEAN, WHERE IS THE HOUSING GOING TO BE FOR ALL THE ADULTS THAT WOULD GIVE YOU A HUNDRED NEW STUDENTS LOL. I think we have to assume the plotlines are connected.

I also find it hard to believe the board would care about Elizabeth being certified to teach Angela. Where else is she going to get an education? It’s 1918 in the middle of almost nowhere???

This show drives me nuts with its attempt to be a “Frontier Show” while also shying away from the characters actually being stranded/cut off from society at large. You still had unlicensed teachers teaching in western towns in this time period because nobody cared!!!

ANYWAY, if Union City was like 3 miles away I could see them trying to combine schools. But it isn’t. So.

I dunno. I hate this plotline. I feel like they stole it from a better show (Road to Avonlea, where the bigger school was just a few miles away and it made sense to consider combining the schools for a better education system for the students as one-room schoolhouse teaching was proven to be less effective) but didn’t bother to consider any of the logistics of the storyline.

Maybe it’s my passion for education and history that makes me hate it, though. I know too much to find this storyline believable. I should also mention that I haven’t enjoyed Elizabeth’s role as teacher for a very long time. (I think they suck at writing Elizabeth as a teacher.)

I’m just not interested in wherever this is going to go because I can’t imagine it’ll have a lasting impact.

The only good thing I can say about the whole plotline is that I REALLY LIKED HOW BILL CAME OUT OF IT. I think he’s the only person who knows how to speak to Elizabeth. She struggles with blunt honesty at first, but ultimately tends to appreciate it, and that’s pretty much what she always gets with Bill. Also, the scene where he shuts her down didn’t make her look stupid, either (just worried/anxious), so I could appreciate it.

--

Jesse’s Disappearance

I couldn’t care less about this plotline if I tried. Jesse’s gone missing in the mountains before (was it last season? I don’t even remember because I didn’t give a damn about it then either) so this felt like a multi-reused plotline...for the same character, no less.

It’s also poorly implemented. Why doesn’t anyone else care about Jesse? Why is Clara pouring her heart out to Lee while her friends are failing to support her in the slightest? Why should any of us care when we know he’ll be fine?

It just feels so forced for the sake of drama, and it’s made 10x worse because there’s too much else going on at the same time.

Also, how convenient that they have to tell us how hard-working and dedicated Jesse is to his work to force this plot to even make sense... C’mon, he has never been a particularly dedicated to work. They just needed to explain why he would have left the car so that he could be “missing.”

Boring. I also don’t care that much about their “stolen” money.

The only good thing in all of this is seeing how soothing of a voice Lee actually has. 

--

The best parts of the episode:

Henry calling Florence “Flo” GOT ME. It was so surprisingly cute???

I love Bill, and he really came out of this episode looking great! Finally, it seems they’re done writing him as a grouchy old man who hates everyone! In this season (and particularly in this episode), he is allowed to be capable, smart, helpful, loyal, and in possession of a great deal of integrity. I couldn’t believe that guy tried to bribe the judge in town right off the bat lmao...but the way Bill handled it felt very in character—very reminiscent of him from S3 or 4. He never shuts things down immediately, preferring instead to get more information to use against his, erm...opponent. Should he need it, of course. I was really happy to see him written well in this episode.

HENRY’S LETTER FROM HIS SON. STARTS OFF WITH “DAD,” AND SAYS PS. I LOVE YOU AT THE BOTTOM. Good for Henry.

Fiona’s backstory! Finally, we get some FIONA LORE. Neat.

PUDDING HANDS CARSON. 

[captainmazzic]

Happy Halloween.

So it’s about time I gave a real fucking update instead of just dicking around being cagey about shit. I’ve mentioned a new project repeatedly. So let’s sit down and actually talk about it, friends. Pull up a chair, grab yourself some hot cocoa and strap in. Welcome to Sarc’s emotional roller coaster.

Bear with me. This is hard to talk about for so many reasons, but mostly because I’ve been belittled and ridiculed so many times in my life for liking “cringy” things or wanting to do things that other people think are stupid or childish. I hear the voice of my father telling me to “make something of my life” and “don’t squander your talents”, I hear the voice of my mother telling me I have “so much potential” and “one day I hope you get some ambition”, I hear the voice of my ex telling me to “stop wasting time with stupid shit” and “nobody is interested in failures”. I hear old teachers telling me honor roll students should go to college and study high-demand majors and anything else would be lazy and detrimental and won’t contribute anything worthwhile to society.

It’s the same shit that prevented me for a long time from posting art online. From posting writing online. From making ocs and showing them to other people. And now it’s preventing me from starting this project, and I’m so, so tired of it.

My biggest fear right now is that once I start talking about this project I’ll lose this tiny little community of people vaguely interested in my stuff that have somehow stuck around. External validation and sharing the things I love are my primary motivations with everything I do online, and while screaming into the void is all well and good, I need feedback and interaction and community. I need it so, so badly. I wouldn’t post jack shit – ever – if I didn’t need that, to be honest.

So anyway.

When the pandemic kicked into high gear earlier this year I got laid off for a few months. It gave me a lot of time to think about who I am and where I wanted to be in life, what mattered to me, what dreams I still had and which ones had fallen by the wayside.

Some of them are huge – once upon a time I was very religious. I went through seminary, got my minister’s certification, and was slated to be an associate pastor in a mega-church and rake in a six-figure income within 3 years. But I lost my faith and couldn’t stand the idea of being disingenuous.

And there was also a time when I received a full-ride scholarship to a very prestigious university that would have spanned a 12-year program and resulted in me having several doctorates and masters degrees by the end of it, in the fields of geology, palaeontology, and cladistics. But the scholarship program that was supposed to sponsor me went bankrupt the very semester I was supposed to capitalize on it. I was still accepted into the school, but the $1.2 million price tag would have all been out of my own pocket. So obviously that didn’t happen.

Those were the “acceptable” dreams. Those were the ones that parents and teachers and the general outside world approved of and thought were worthy goals. But neither of them panned out, and all I have left are the cringy ones. Like homesteading and sustainable living (can’t start without land, can’t have land without money). Like making comic books and doing art commissions for a living (it has to be steady to support myself, and I’m far too slow an artist for things to be steady). And like… playing video games.

Ha.

What’s funny is I can already envision the eyerolls and hear the snorts of laughter. What kind of dream is that? Only a handful of famous youtubers and twitch celebrities play video games for a living, and breaking into a field like that is pretty much impossible unless you already have friends in famous places.

Yeah, but… it would be so much fun. Right?

It WOULD be fun. I don’t have to become a super popular celebrity for it to be fun, right?

I don’t have to make it my day job and rake in piles of cash for it to be fun, right?

… I don’t have to actually be successful for it to be fun… right?

… Right?

:/

… I love video games.

I’ve loved them ever since I tried and failed so many times to win The Empire Strikes Back on Atari 2600. I’ve loved them ever since I played Mortal Kombat with my cousin in his basement with the sound down super low because it was ultra-violent and I would have been in so much trouble if mom caught me playing it. I’ve loved them ever since I tried and failed to finish Strife and Hexen and Heretic without the computer crashing and rebooting to DOS. I’ve loved them ever since I had to cheat-code my way through Jedi Knight: Dark Forces II just to get past the first boss fight but then no-clipped through the wall and died anyway. I still love that game.

But I stopped playing video games for a very long time. I was intimidated out of them by an ex and a somewhat toxic friend group who were Real Gamers™. I was brought to LAN parties but not allowed to play, because I slowed down the team and didn’t know the controls. I was banned from commenting on other people’s moves or cheering people on because it was distracting and I could cost them a win. I was even kicked out of their online D&D campaigns because I couldn’t be serious enough or roleplay well enough for their standards. Even if I was playing a game on my own, I couldn’t play with anyone else in the house because I’d be ridiculed for dying a lot, or for going the wrong way, or for picking the wrong game because only certain games are “good” and most of the ones I wanted to play were “stupid” or “trash” or a “waste of time”.

That kind of thing sits with me for a very, very long time. I didn’t really play games at all for over a decade. Even after I ended up on the opposite side of the country, with a new circle of friends, I couldn’t bring myself to play much of anything.

And then I had an extended visit with a friend of mine, and he introduced me to an early version of a ridiculous little game called Minecraft. My friend was an avid gamer but also a very kind one. In the ten years before this, I had told myself that I just preferred to watch other people play games instead of playing them myself (a lie. I mean, I absolutely adore watching other people play, but I also want to play too lol), my friend saw through that and very gently encouraged me to take a stab at playing Minecraft myself. He moved his laptop over to me, and I played a whole ten minutes with him watching before my nerves failed me and I promptly died. But miraculously it wasn’t a big deal to him. It was just a game. I might have cried in relief, I don’t remember.

After my visit I shelved playing video games for like another year, despite buying a whole mess of them because other friends online loved certain titles and wanted to talk about them with me. (I never played them, just bought them. I couldn’t even handle the thought of playing by myself in my own house). But for some reason I mentioned to my brother-in-law my old visit to my Minecraft-loving friend, and he just… up and bought the game for me. My brother-in-law is also an avid gamer with a lovely and patient disposition, and he suggested I just play in creative mode and build things to start. So I did that (behind a locked door in the RV that I lived in by myself, with the lights off and the sound down low) and Minecraft was my sole video game for another several years.

Then a couple years ago another friend of mine (hi Char) introduced me to Star Wars: The Old Republic, and I fell in love. It sparked a renewed interest in video games that I thought I would never really have the opportunity to satisfy, because games were still intimidating.

Let me clarify: I… SUCK. At video games. I’m terrible at them. Learning controls is a nightmare and a tunicate evolving its own brain would learn faster than me. If I’m aiming, I can’t hit the broad side of a barn. I have the direction sense of a whirligig beetle on the back of a drunk pigeon. I die fast and I die often. I can count the number of games I’ve actually finished on one hand. Even less if we don’t count the ones I had to use cheat codes to get through. But none of that diminishes my love of experiencing them, and over this whole pandemic and quarantine thing I’ve had a lot of time to unpack and mull over my thoughts and feelings and passions about them.

… I moved my RV to a new spot literally the day before the lockdown in my state first initiated. Before this I was in a spot that had no internet other than what reception I could get on my phone, with severely limited bandwidth and patchy, unreliable service. The new spot has a steady wi-fi connection, and while upload speed is utter shit, downloading and streaming video are just this side of manageable. So I spent the first three months of the quarantine lockdown doing pretty much nothing other than watching Jacksepticeye, CrankGameplays, and Markiplier play video games on YouTube. (I honestly had no idea before this that people even did let’s plays. My internet access/speed has been shit for so long I’m totally out of the loop).

It… for fear of sounding utterly stupid yet again, it inspired me.

Like. These people really love what they’re doing. They just. Play video games and have fun with it, and I mean yeah they make money hand-over-fist doing it but the main thing is they HAVE FUN doing it. They have fun! Playing video games! In front of people! It’s wild. And the thing that REALLY got me was… they have feedback on it too. They have a COMMUNITY. They have people they can talk to about it. They have people that they can play games WITH, even, who don’t yell at them or tell them they suck every five minutes or tell them they can’t play with them because they’re worthless as teammates. They can fuck up in a game and their friends are laughing along with them on Discord instead of screaming at them to get it right or get out. They can play games by themselves in their house and then upload videos on the internet and then they can talk to other people about it! They have fun! It’s awesome! They have fun!!

I just. It meant so much to me. It meant so much to me to see these videos of these three, and then another dozen or so that I’ve followed since, play all these games and have such a good time and also be such a positive and kind and encouraging source of energy.

I know all of this is not exactly about video games specifically. It’s about coming to terms with how I’ve been treated as a person and as a friend, about how other people respect someone’s interests and passions, about how it’s okay to share your interests with other people and it’s okay to like things that other people might not care about or think are important.

And I’m so, so tired of not doing the things I love because I’m afraid of what other people will think.

So I, uh. I invested all of the stimulus money I had into a new rig and equipment like a camera, lighting, acoustic panels, all that shit. I dug out all the games I bought but never played, I made accounts on all the big gaming services like Steam and Itch.io and GoG, and I made a YouTube channel. And I’m going to be making my own let’s plays. And it will suck, and it will be cringy and awkward and badly done, and it won’t make me money or be a valid career option or be anything but another very expensive hobby, but it will be mine, and it will be something I can share with people and (hopefully) have fun with, and it will (hopefully) be an avenue for some of this positive social interaction I’m craving.

I know YouTube can be toxic and super negative and full of trolls and cancel culture fanatics and people just waiting to find something to tear you down for, but like. Come on, y’all. I’m posting this on tumblr dot com. Toxic is everywhere anyway. I just want to try, you know?

I just want to love video games again.

Someone famous that I look up to so, so much told me – without knowing that I was even listening, without even knowing that I even exist – that if I enjoy doing something, to just go for it. To just jump in and do it, and if it works then it works, and if it doesn’t, what have I actually lost?

And I’m lucky enough to have four whole offline friends that I’ve mentioned this idea to, and each of them has said encouraging things like I’d have a good voice and face and style for making let’s plays. I honestly don’t know how true that part is, but on my good days I believe them. And they also said that I should go for it, to just try.

So that’s… that’s what I’m doing, I guess. I just want to try.

I know it’s not Star Wars fanart. I know it’s not Star Wars fanfiction. I know it’s not Star Wars meta or essays or ranting about the Sith and the Jedi and the Force. I know it’s not what y’all want from me. And that’s utterly terrifying. I’m bracing myself to be alone on the internet again, because I know that when I dive headfirst into this thing, it’ll eat away into the time that I normally might be spending doing writing or art, and it’s going to be something no one else wants to see and no one signed up for. And that’s partly why it’s taken me so very, very long to get started.

The other part is more physical. Of course as soon as I decide that I’m going to put my face on a camera is when my entire face goes to shit. I’m currently waiting on a potential diagnosis for mouth cancer, while already dealing with a severe jaw infection that’s causing my teeth and gums to rot inside my mouth. They already took part of my jaw, I’m missing teeth, others are turning black, if I open my mouth even just a little it is so obvious and I look like a very, very literal zombie. I have never been more grateful that masks are socially acceptable. I have a series of twelve appointments scheduled to treat this shit now that I have dental and health insurance (goodbye paycheque), and I might qualify for reconstruction surgery too. But that doesn’t really help how I look right now.

So I just can’t bring myself to start this project just yet. I’ve been sitting on it for months now with all the other pieces in place, but I just. Can’t. Start. It’s driving me crazy, because I want to start so badly. I feel like I’m wasting time. I feel like I’ve already wasted so much time, because I haven’t even done anything else in the meantime. I haven’t done hardly any art or fanfic, nothing. My anxiety is spiking so high right now because I have all these expectations of myself, but I can’t do anything about it. I’ve been told that I could just start without a camera or wear a mask on screen, and I’ve actually done some recording doing exactly that, but I just… can’t seem to make anything I want to finalize.

It’s also frustrating because I have no way of uploading anything at home. I’ll have to go over to my partner’s house which is nearly an hour’s drive away in order to get internet good enough to upload videos, which means that upload schedules are going to be shiiiiiit and that’s also frustrating.

But. But. BUT. I want to do this.

I want to do this so badly. I want to share let’s plays and experience a love of video games with other people. I want to actually play games with other people too. I also just acquired a piano keyboard, and I want to play again on the regular because I miss it so much. I used to play piano for hours every single day, it’s so relaxing and fun, maybe I can post that too. Maybe I can post let’s draws or something, where I ask y’all what to draw and then make a video of me drawing it while bullshitting to the camera I don’t know it sounds like fun. Maybe I can post videos of my cooking because the shit I make seems to be everyone’s favourite thing on instagram, and maybe I can take my camera with me when I go to the ocean or hike up into the middle of nowhere in the mountains and film how beautiful everything is up there. Or maybe I can do none of that and just focus on one thing, I honestly have no idea what I’m doing or how to do it, but I just… I want to try. I just want to try.

I don’t know where any of this is going anymore. I’m sorry I haven’t responded to messages, or opened up commissions. I’m sorry that this isn’t what y’all wanted. I’m still going to continue drawing and writing, I’m still going to be around, I’m not going anywhere, but I have no idea how prolific I’m going to be and I have no idea even when I’ll start uploading videos, to be honest. But I just. I’m just gonna try. It might still take me a while but I’m gonna try. Wish me luck. I love y’all.

[foxtophat]

i dont have much to say about this one!!! it’s just a story about carmina’s tenth birthday, and how the town of fall’s end is coping a decade after the collapse.  uhhh there are some random children in it?  bean is there! and of course john shows up, too, because that’s KIND OF THE POINT of mercyverse lol

technically there’s a story that comes before this, but i don’t have the vibe yet for it so i haven’t worked on it in a while. instead, i’ll probably just keep moving forward and throw up that one if the rest of the plot becomes at all relevant to the real main storyline.  uhhh the next one will take place in the spring of 2029 and we’re going to start getting into some fun stuff that i’ve planned out for a while!!!

until then, uh, the usual: love you, please like/share/reblog/kudos/comment, whatever you feel good about doing, because i sure do love to share my universe with other people!  hope you’re doing well and hopefully i’ll see you with another fic in a few weeks!

also as usual: the story text is below the cut for those of you who wanna stay on tumblr :)

It's Carmina's tenth birthday, and there's a party in town. The two things aren't exactly related, sure, but Carmina's used to sharing her birthday with the Collapse, and she's not about to turn down a bunch of free food. How can she not go to a real Hope County barbecue after her parents had hyped the experience up so much in the bunker? She'd hoped that her ninth birthday would have gotten a similar treatment, but the town just didn't have the food or people for it at the time. Her parents had told her that next year would be better; Carmina does her best to keep her imagination from blowing the whole thing out of proportion.

They leave a little bit after breakfast. Since John is coming along, mom has no excuse not to let Carmina ride in the back with him. He's not excited to be heading into town, but then again, the town isn't usually excited to see him, either. And considering what day it is, they're likely to be extra rude to him. Carmina doesn't get it, honestly, but she's just glad that she can ride in back without her mom grabbing onto her at every pothole and bump in the road.

The first surprise of the day comes as her dad parks just past the church, giving her a chance to stand up and look out over the town. She hasn't been here in a while, and so she's surprised to see that they've cleared out a lot of the dirt lot behind the usable buildings — and there are a lot of people hanging out there. Carmina's never seen so many people at once — she loses count around twenty and can easily guess double that. It's enough to rattle her nerves for just a second, before she catches the looks on her mom and dads' faces and realizes that this is probably a good thing. Sure, John looks like he wants to hop back in the truck and go home, but he always looks like that around strangers. Her parents, on the other hand, actually seem happy for once, and that's what matters to Carmina.

The second surprise is just how many of the adults seem to know her. Her parents move slowly through the mingling crowd, usually coming up with names for faces before Carmina's even looked at the strangers who call her by name. She gets lots of comments like, "I remember when your parents were expecting you!" and "I was wondering how the Rye's little girl turned out!" and even a few, "Glad to see you made it," comments that make her parents side-eye each other pretty fiercely. She doesn't need to introduce herself to anyone, not even people who her parents don't know so well — it's like everybody's always known her, and her family. It's kind of cool — but also kind of weird. Pastor Jerome always said that their family was a pillar in the community, but this is first-person evidence, right here in front of her.

Plenty of the adults wish her a happy birthday, too, but she knows their hearts aren't in it. It's one of the big drawbacks to sharing her birthday with the end of the world — nobody asks how old she is, nobody wants to know what she did on previous birthdays, and all of them have to make some kind of depressing comment. Like trying to get her to relate to birthdays before the Collapse: all they want to do is tell her about all the things she could be doing, or would be doing, if only the world hadn't ended. They want to share their birthdays from the past, but Carmina's never been to the movies, she doesn't know who Disney is, and she has no idea why they'd need a cake and candles for it all. Somebody tells her she should be graduating to the fourth grade, and she just stares back because what even is the fourth grade? What does that mean?

They mean well, so Carmina does her best not to upset anybody, but she knows that nobody appreciates how little she cares about life before the Collapse.

At least there are other kids in town today. Her mom had been telling her about some of them — kids who don't have families, who the town looks after — but Carmina's only ever met one of them, and that had been only for a few minutes. But Carmina can see them hanging out in the field, and as soon as her mom lets her, she heads right out to them. It's about time that she met people her age — she's getting tired of only ever talking to old people.

Of course, meeting strangers is still difficult for her, but she's saved from too much embarrassment as she recognizes the chicken brothers hanging out in the small group. She can't remember which one is Tom and which one is Matt, but they seemed really nice when they helped her pick out her chickens. She also recognizes the oldest boy in the group, although she can't remember his name at all. She's never seen the others before — two teenage girls, another boy her age, and a kid a couple years younger than her — but hopefully she won't make a total fool of herself.

"Hi," she says as she approaches, waving.

"Hey, Carmina," Matt-or-Tom says, stepping aside to make room for her in their makeshift circle. "I thought we would see you today."

"Yep," Carmina smiles, "Here I am!" She sees the teenagers' curious looks and tells them with little fanfare, "Today's my birthday."

"Oh," the oldest boy says. "That sucks."

One of the girls elbows him. "Don't be mean," she says.

"No, he's right," Carmina says. "It does suck."

"Well, happy birthday anyway. How old are you now?"

"Ten."

"Wow," the girl says. She looks at the boy, then back to Carmina, and says sympathetically, "You weren't kidding. That's rough."

Giggling with relief, Carmina waves once more. "It's okay. My name's Carmina, by the way. It's nice to meet you."

Being polite works like a charm, and the oldest boy is quick to go around with introductions. "Well, I'm Jason — this is Caroline, and this is Flower. The little kid there —"

"Hey!"

"— Is Bean, and... Sorry, man, what did you say your name was again?"

The other ten-year-old looking boy frowns and shoves his hands deeper into his pockets. "Luke," he says.

"Okay, Luke. And you know Tom and Matt."

"We were talking about the bison out in the field," Tom-or-Matt says. He points in the direction of home and asks, "Did you guys see the big one when you were coming into town?"

"The one that's all white?" Carmina asks, "With the big scar over its hump? We see that one all the time when we come out this way —"

"No, no," the other brother says, "Jason says there's a bigger one."

"I told you guys," Jason says, "I only saw it once, and it was late at night while I was up in the crow's nest. I don't think it comes out during the day."

Carmina frowns. "What big one? What do you mean?"

"Oh, boy," Caroline sighs, "Don't listen to him, Carmina, he's full of shit."

"Hey, language," Flower laughs.

"Look, I was pretty far away, but I had the sniper rifle and I wasn't sleeping on the job. Uh, so..." He points out over the field, towards a squat set of huts surrounding a tall, busted silo that's still standing. The view from up there must be great. "Jerome has me sit up in that tower sometimes, you know, to practice. So I was up there, looking around, and it was probably midnight or so... and I just see this glow out in the field. I think it's a fire, right? Maybe somebody made a camp out there on their way to town or something. So I look out through the scope — and it was a bison."

"A glowing bison?" Carmina asks skeptically.

"Yeah. Like, a monster bison. It was all dark and scaly looking, except for the way its belly glowed. I thought about shooting it, but..."

Caroline laughs. "He got scared. Or it wasn't real, and he's making it all up."

"I wasn't scared, and I'm not making it up! It's not like it could've hurt me up in the nest. It... just didn't feel right. You know, it was just grazing with the rest of the herd. And it moved off over the hill before I could change my mind or call anybody up to confirm it."

"Sure, Jason."

"I'm serious," Jason insists, "I really saw it, okay? I told Jerome about it and everything." He frowns at the dirt. "He said it might've been mutated after the bombs. Then he told me not to go looking for it."

"He's right," Flower says. "Even regular bison are pretty dangerous." She smiles. "That's why I like deer — they won't hurt you. If you sit really still, sometimes they'll even come up and lick your face."

"Oh," Carmina says. "I usually just shoot them. They eat all our vegetables otherwise."

"Yeah," Flower sighs, "Sometimes I do, too. But they're also nice to watch."

Tom-or-Matt looks to his brother. "I wonder if that's what we see outside at night?"

"What, deer?"

"No, dumbass." He turns to the group and explains, "Sometimes, when it's real late and I gotta use the bathroom, I'll see something glowing out in the woods. Dad's cut back a lot of space so it never gets very close, but... maybe it's another mutated animal."

"At least you'll see it coming when it tries to attack you," Carmina suggests.

"Gee, thanks."

Carmina knows he's probably teasing, but she still feels guilty for being so blunt about it. The least she can do is try to reassure him. "Well... most animals don't attack near houses, I don't think. When we first came out of the bunker, there were wild dogs and wolves that would watch us, and my dad was real worried about them — but now they mostly stay away from the property. I think it's because of the fence. You guys have a fence, right?"

"Yeah, plus a butt-load of chickens that freak out over anything out of the ordinary." Matt-or-Tom grins at her and asks, "Don't they wake you up with every little thing?"

Carmina briefly considers mentioning John being attacked, then decides against it. She also doesn't want to tell them that the chickens live mostly indoors at night now — the last thing she wants to do is kick off a whole big thing about the cult on her dang birthday! It's already hard enough pretending to care about them around her parents; she's not sure she could even force herself to bother here. And if she's not careful, the kids in town might start to think about her and her family the same way all the adults do.

"They're pretty docile, actually," she says, "And we only really see deer around our place... It's not like they eat chickens."

"Well.... maybe there's a mutant deer out there that wants to eat you," Tom-or-Matt teases.

Carmina rolls her eyes. "I'll shoot it before it gets past the hangar," she replies.

Of course, her dismissive confidence leads to a sprawling discussion on who might be the best shot out of the group. Carmina does her best to defend her skills, considering she can't prove any of it right now, but all three teens insist they're dead-eyes, and even Bean says he's "getting pretty good at the aiming part." On top of that, the kids from the town have gotten pointers from Aunt Grace herself, which means they might actually be better shots than Carmina expects.

"Maybe we should have a competition," Caroline suggests. "I bet Pastor Jerome and Aunt Grace would be okay with it."

"Sure," Jason laughs, "But you know they'd make us spend forty minutes disassembling and cleaning our rifles before and after. Like I don't know what I'm doing — I'm almost fifteen!"

"Have you guys been to Aunt Grace's?" Carmina asks. "She has a shooting range there."

"Maybe she'd let us use it!"

"I've never been to a real shooting range," Bean says.

"It's not a real shooting range," Jason points out, "Those all got blown up. Do you even know how to use a gun, Bean?"

"I just said I do! My dad taught me! I... just don't like the loud noises it makes."

Matt-or-Tom boasts, "We learned to shoot in our bunker. Mom collected Airsoft guns — they don't use bullets, so they can't kill you."

"What's the point of that?"

"I dunno, I guess practicing underground?"

Tom-or-Matt laughs. "Dad was convinced the Peggies were gonna get us, so he wanted us to know how to shoot."

The quiet kid, Luke, finally speaks up. "Lucky," he mutters, "Easier to learn underground, I bet."

"What about you?" Carmina asks. She tries not to cringe away when he stares back at her like he didn't expect anyone to hear him. Maybe he doesn't like people talking to him? "Um... my mom and dad had a bunch of gun magazines in the bunker, but I never got to shoot a real gun until we came outside. Mom and Aunt Grace have been teaching me, though, and I'm way better than my dad is."

Luke hesitates. "Kind of the same. We came up early, though. Had to."

"Me, too," Jason replies. "It was just me and my brother. I was five when we got stuck in the bunker — we went through our supplies in about three years, so we had to come back up."

"We... only stayed down until I could walk," Luke admits. "It was still really cold when we came up. And mom got real sick for a while."

"Yikes," Bean says, "That sucks!"

"Come on, bean," Jason snaps, "You don't say that."

"You just said it to her!" Bean shouts, pointing at Carmina.

"He's... right," Luke mumbles. "It sucked. It... still sucks. But things are getting better now." He looks up at them, then drops his eyes back to the dirt. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Carmina insists, "I asked first!"

"That's kind of the mood today," Caroline adds. "Don't worry. We can talk about something else."

The change in topic comes abruptly as Bean points towards the Church and asks, "Who is that with Pastor Jerome?"

Carmina doesn't need to look, but since the rest of the group does, she might as well too. John has his hat pulled low over his eyes, as usual, which makes him look suspicious, as usual. Knowing him, he probably didn't even leave the truck — just waited there for Jerome to come talk to him.

She can only hope that Tom and Matt keep their mouths shut since they're the only other kids who know what John looks like nowadays. Unfortunately for her, that hope is pretty quickly dashed.

"Oh," Matt-or-Tom says, like a jerk, "That's John, I think. Right, Carmina?"

"Wait," Jason says, "You're that Carmina?"

Carmina ducks her head. "Um... it depends, I guess?"

Flower, looking too sympathetic for Carmina's liking, tries to mediate. "He just means, well... Jerome talks about you sometimes."

"And he talks about that guy," Jason adds, pointing without any subtlety at all.

"Everyone talks about that guy," Caroline says with a sigh. She gives Carmina a sympathetic shrug as she does, as though she wishes she could stop the conversation from happening, too. That only makes Carmina worried that this isn't the first time the teenagers have sat around gossiping about John and the crazy people who decided to take him in.

"Wait," Bean gasps, way too loudly, "That's John Seed?"

"Oh my God," Matt-or-Tom sighs, "You gotta keep up with the conversation."

"Wait, what's he doing here? Why's he going into the church? I thought he wasn't supposed to come to town? I thought he was locked up!"

Carmina groans. "It's my birthday," she whines, "I don't wanna talk about John today!"

"We don't have to," Caroline says. "Guys, come on."

"I mean, he did kill a lot of people. Isn't he, like, a psychopath? Isn't it weird to live with a murderer?"

"Jason!"

Luke mutters, "I heard he used to cut off people's skin."

"That's true," Jason replies, "My brother has a huge scar from when it happened to him. Boy, I hope he doesn't see that jackass is here..."

Matt-or-Tom finally seems to realize what he's started, frowning as the conversation spirals crazily out of control. It's too late to stop it, though, and so he shuffles his feet and looks apologetically towards Carmina.

Fine. If she can't get around the subject, she's just going to have to tackle it head-on. Even if that sounds really scary. She doesn't think that these guys are going to flip out like the caravan last year did, but she's still a little worried that she might be in for a fight if she says the wrong thing about John.

"I know John used to be a bad guy," she says. "Like, really bad. My dad's got one of those scars, too. But he's not like that any more. All he does nowadays is help my parents with chores and stuff. And he's just like everybody else — he doesn't talk about what happened before the Collapse to me or anybody. So I really don't know anything more than you guys.

She probably knows less than them, honestly, but she's not about to say so and get a brutal lesson in everything John's ever done wrong.

"So he's just... different, now?" Jason asks, frowning unhappily at the church.

"I guess so," Carmina replies with a shrug. She looks over to make sure that John and Jerome are inside, just in case. "He's not... scary, or mean, or anything like that. Just quiet. Kind of... lonely, I guess. Ever since he found out his brother is alive but still crazy, he's been really beat up about it." He's also been literally beaten up over it, but now's not the time to try and make the others feel sorry for him. John would probably be irritated at the idea of a bunch of kids pitying him.

Matt-or-Tom is quick to help her out, which is nice. "She's right," he says. "The Father is still out there in the woods with all those crazies, but John's repented. Dad said he made amends with God, whatever that means. He... uh, still doesn't like us being around him, but when we helped him load the chickens in he seemed okay. Just real quiet."

"That's John, alright," Carmina sighs.

Bean looks seriously disappointed by the news. "You mean he doesn't talk about it at all?" he asks.

"No," Carmina says, snapping for good measure, "And he gets really upset when you ask about it, so don't."

"I'm not gonna go talk to him!" Bean gasps.

The idea that a kid might be scared of John is pretty funny, considering how uncomfortable he is around her, but Carmina's not about to say as much. John probably wouldn't like her sharing a weakness like that with a bunch of strangers, and she wouldn't want them using it against him later.

Flower slowly lifts her hand, looking embarrassed. "Some of the adults in town say the Bliss messed him up. Is that... true?"

Well, at least she's trying to be nice about it. "I dunno," Carmina admits. "He was super weird when he first started living with us, but that might've just been because he was stuck in his bunker for so long."

"Oh, that happened to a guy my dad knows!" Bean supplies helpfully. "Dad calls it bunker shock. Says living underground too long is bad for you when you're all alone!"

"Glad I didn't live in one long enough for that," Luke says. When everyone looks at him, he clams up for a second before continuing on. "A neighbor came up just this year. He's... real weird. I don't like him much. He still sleeps underground, hoping he'll wake up and it'll all be a dream." He scuffs his boot against the dirt, sniffing loudly. "That's what my mom says, anyway. I try not to be around when he comes by."

"He wouldn't be the first adult to be like that," Jason says. He gives the church one last look before nodding his head towards the party. "I mean, that's why we're all the way out here, instead of hanging out around the food. Right?"

"No," Bean replies, "I'm out here 'cos I can't eat another bite! I didn't know you could be this full."

Caroline laughs. "Yeah, the adults have been stockpiling for weeks, it looks like... I guess everyone was really looking forward to it — or, well, I guess that's what it is."

Flower gazes over at the gaggle of adults. Carmina recognizes her dreamy smile from the way her mom looks around the house sometimes, like she's getting a new, better look at the place.

"It feels like things are starting to look up," she says. "Maybe they can all be happier now."

"Hey, don't jinx it!" Tom-or-Matt laughs.

Bean looks around at the rest of them and for a second, Carmina is worried he's going to ask more about John and restart the whole ugly conversation. Thankfully, it looks like he's still a baby, so he's quickly distracted.

"So, what do we do now?" he asks, pushing his too-big glasses up his nose.

Carmina has never actually played with other kids before, so she doesn't have any good suggestions — especially when shooting is off-limits. Thankfully, she isn't the only one. The teenagers don't know where their soccer ball went, and Luke says he doesn't even know what soccer is. Bean says he usually plays word games by himself. When Tom-or-Matt suggests they play something called "capture the flag," it manages to make its way to the top of the list just because Jason and Caroline have both heard of it before.

Well, at least something is better than nothing. The older kids explain how capture the flag works, using Jason's shirt for their team's flag while the other kids band together around Matt-or-Tom's sweaty tank top. Carmina imagines that one of them should sit out for even teams, but the older kids seem confident that they can handle it. Too confident, in Carmina's opinion — maybe they need to be brought down a peg.

Capture the flag turns out to be more fun than Carmina had expected — and a lot harder, too. Trying to outmaneuver the older kids is tough work, but she and Tom-or-Matt figure out how to flank them pretty quick. There's nothing better than the moment when Carmina manages to dive out of the way when Jason tries to tackle her, and even if she gets dog-piled by Flower halfway back to Bean at home base, she holds Jason's shirt up for another teammate to take.

Unfortunately, the game ends without a winner as a sharp whistle pierces the air. Bean looks up and shouts, "That's my dad! I better go!"

He runs off at full tilt without so much as a goodbye, and Carmina has to squint against the setting sun to watch him go. She hadn't realized how late it had gotten.

"I should probably get going, too," Luke says, sweaty and almost smiling for once. "I want to get another plate of food before we go home."

"Ugh," Carmina sighs, "And the chickens need feeding."

"Just make John do it," Matt-or-Tom says, apparently not learning his lesson about mentioning John.

"It's supposed to be my job," she says. "And anyway, he already feeds them in the morning when I don't get up in time."

"They're gonna like him more than you," Tom-or-Matt laughs.

Jason frowns. "He feeds your chickens?"

"I mean... yeah. He does whatever we need him to." Carmina shrugs, glancing back towards the church. She hasn't seen Jerome or John leave — maybe she should go see them before she rounds up her parents? Nah, it's better to leave them alone until the very last minute.

"Just... didn't think you'd let him near livestock, that's all."

"What's he gonna do, poison the eggs?" Carmina huffs. "He's good with them. I think he likes them 'cos they aren't judgey."

Caroline frowns, which tells Carmina she might've been a little rude. But Jason's been rude about John all day, so she's not going to feel sorry about it!

"Well, I guess if your parents trust him..."

"Sure they do," Carmina replies, even if that's not... exactly right. She knows her parents trust John enough to help around the house, but she thinks they only want to trust him with all the other stuff.

"I really better go," she says, pointing towards town.

"Sure," Flower says. "It was nice to meet you, Carmina."

Carmina gives them her best grin, relieved when it's returned from the others. Jason even waves like there's no hard feelings. "It was nice meeting you guys," she says.

"Happy birthday again!" Matt-or-Tom says, "And be careful!"

"Yeah," his brother laughs, "Wouldn't want to have a glowing deer attack you in the outhouse tonight!"

Carmina laughs away the dumb attempt to scare her, waving goodbye before turning to head for the party. Halfway there, she glances over her shoulder and sees the group turned back to one-another in conversation. None of them are looking back, but as she continues on, she's chased by an unfamiliar sense of discomfort. She can't help but wonder if they're still talking about John in the church.... If they're talking about her.

At least she can distract herself while looking for her parents. There are plenty of adults who say hello; some of them even point her helpfully towards her mom's last known location, or towards the table with the cookies her dad really liked. Some of them check in to make sure her birthday has been going well, too, which is nice of them, but a lot of adults are pretty drunk and deep in their own conversations.

She eventually finds her mom and dad standing around a grill with Marjorie, one of the adults in charge around town. Carmina's met her a couple of times. She's nice, but she can talk a lot. There's no telling how long they've been talking for, and if Carmina doesn't interrupt, who knows when they'll finish. While she could probably grab some food for the road, first she has to make sure that they're actually going to be leaving sometime before the next Collapse.

Besides, it looks like her dad's already got a box of leftovers in his hands. If Carmina wants to eat, she's going to have to interrupt.

"Hey dad," she says as she comes up to them, "The chickens are going to need dinner soon."

Her dad grins at her before handing over the squat, open cardboard box. There's chicken, ribs, corn and roasted potatoes, and even a handful of cookies and flatbread; it takes everything in Carmina's power not to make a desperate grab for more food. She doesn't have to worry about going hungry tonight, so there's no need to eat everything put in front of her.

"Here," he tells her, "You take this, alright? My arms are gettin' tired."

Yeah, right. As soon as she takes the box, he uses one of those tired arms to grab one of the ribs. When Carmina frowns suspiciously at him, her dad only shrugs.

"I coughed on it."

"Uh-huh..."

Laughing, her mom reaches out to give Marjorie a hug. It might've run a little long, but her mom obviously enjoyed the talk. "We'll be back in a week or two with the tractor parts," she says. "You're going to get the fields back in shape in no time."

"Already got a good start," Marjorie replies. She shoots Carmina a warm smile. "Happy birthday, by the way! Don't think I got to see you much. Hope those kids weren't giving you a hard time."

"No," Carmina replies., "They're all really nice. We want to practice shooting together, maybe have a contest. Jason said he's better than anybody else."

"I bet you're gonna give him a run for his money!" Marjorie laughs. "Well, the better a shot you are, the better off you'll be. You won't see anybody here stop you kids."

"Yeah, but tonight, I have to feed the chickens," Carmina says, just in case her parents need another chance to get out of here.

"We've got a few other people to say goodbye to," her mom tells her. "Why don't you take the food back to the truck? We'll meet you there."

"Should I get John, too?"

As soon as she asks, Carmina decides she probably shouldn't have brought it up. Too late, though; by the look on Marjorie's face, there's no way to pretend she didn't hear it.

Her dad shrugs. "Probably oughta," he tells her, as if he doesn't see Marjorie staring at them like she is.

Marjorie definitely doesn't like that, judging by the way she squints, but she doesn't say anything about it. "Well, I hope you had a decent enough birthday for once," she says, "Hopefully we'll be having a party around this time every year from now on."

"That would be nice," mom says.

"Just you wait, we're gonna turn this ship around one way or another." Marjorie gestures with her hands and says, "Alright, you better go, before those chickens of yours eat each other."

Carmina frowns. "They don't do that, do they?"

"Uh, let's get moving," her dad says. "See you soon, Marg."

"Take care!"

Her mom and dad have to stop a few more times to say goodbye to people Carmina doesn't know, but she pushes on without them and nobody stops her for more than a quick birthday greeting. She catches sight of Luke packing up some food with his parents, but he's too distracted to notice her. At least she isn't the only one carrying a box of leftovers out of here; it would feel selfish of her if they weren't sending leftovers home with other people.

Her parents haven't caught up with her by the time she reaches the truck, and John is nowhere to be seen. She figures he's probably still in the church — he and Pastor Jerome always take forever when they're talking. They'll probably be there until dad goes in and breaks them up.

Eating by herself in the back of the truck doesn't feel right, especially not within walking distance of the church. Leaving the food tucked in the corner by the cab, Carmina heads for the building herself. Even if nobody was in there, she'd probably go wander inside for a few minutes; it's a comforting, quiet place in the dry, dusty town. But right now, she's pretty sure John is hanging around inside, and he probably hasn't eaten anything all day, either. She should at least let him have first pick.

She knows a lot of the adults dislike the church, but Carmina personally enjoys how its sun-bleached siding stands out against the sky. Besides the house, the church is one of the few places Carmina wishes she could have seen in one piece. She's seen old, faded pictures from ancient newspaper clippings, but it's just not the same.

The doors are open wide enough for Carmina to slip in without a sound. The air inside is cool, almost chilly, and it smells like dirt and grass. From the entrance, there's only a narrow gap keeping Jerome and John out of sight. She doesn't mean to hide, but she doesn't want to interrupt Jerome mid-sentence...

It's too late, she's eavesdropping.

"It might not be much, but it's something," Jerome's saying. "He even stayed a few nights, when the wind got bad and brought too much pollen over the river."

"It would be better for everyone if he stayed here permanently," John replies. "Wallace went further down the path than the rest of them, and they clearly don't know what they're doing."

"They're trying, John. And we don't have a say in the matter. It's got to be his choice. Remember?"

John grunts, clearly annoyed. Carmina doesn't think she's ever heard him say so much before. Does he talk to her mom and dad this much? Is he really only quiet around her?

"I don't like it," John says.

"For what it's worth, neither do I. But Sharky's taking things seriously — they all are. You're going to have to trust them."

"Trust isn't exactly one of my virtues," John grumpily admits.

Jerome chuckles. "You just need practice."

Well, Carmina definitely feels guilty now. She had only been waiting for an opening, but if she waits any longer, she's really going to be breaking John's trust. Pastor Jerome's, too, for that matter.

Thinking on her toes, Carmina pushes on the already open door as though she's just showing up. Of course, the hinges squeal in protest as soon as she does, so she stops before she breaks something.

"Are you guys still in here?" she calls. She's pretty convincing about it, in her opinion.

"Yes, Carmina," Jerome responds, apparently none-the-wiser, "We're here."

John regards her neutrally as she steps into view, but he's always wearing his poker face around her. She needs to get better at reading it.

"I guess it's time to go, then," he says.

"Yeah. Um — I mean, I can meet you back at the truck. Mom and dad will be here soon..."

Jerome speaks up before John can get the chance. "No, you two go on. I think we were just about done ourselves, and I'd like to sit here for a little while, before it gets too dark." He and John shake hands, and then he comes over to give Carmina a hug. "Happy birthday," he tells her. "You be good for another year, alright?"

"I'll try," she says.

"That'a girl," Jerome laughs. "Keep an eye on her, John."

Sometimes, it seems like Jerome is the only adult in Hope County that doesn't think John is a bad influence on her. Even her mom and dad, who are basically the only people on John's side, get uncomfortable if she tries to talk to him too much. But Jerome is a special case. He used to be weird about anything John-related, but nowadays? Honestly, Carmina's pretty sure he's John's only friend at this point — well, okay, other than mom and dad, but they don't count.

John waits until they've left the church to speak. He's chilly and dismissive, as usual.

"How long were you listening for?"

"I wasn't," Carmina begins — but she can't lie to him. Lying only ever makes things worse. So she corrects herself reluctantly and admits, "It was only a minute. I didn't mean to... it just sort of happened."

"Hm."

Normally, Carmina can't get a read on John's poker face, but... huh. She can't help but feel like she might've... hurt his feelings? She definitely wasn't being trustworthy, that's for sure. And now he's trying to casually out-pace her on the walk back to the truck.

"I'm sorry for eavesdropping," she says, picking up her pace to match his. "I promise, I won't do it again."

John glares at her, but she's pretty sure he's not angry. Maybe just confused? She's not sure, he's never looked at her longer than two seconds before.

"I... appreciate it," he replies instead, which makes it the first time he's ever accepted an apology of hers. Usually, he just tells her not to worry about it.

Carmina grins at him, but he's already looked away, so of course he doesn't see it. Instead, he looks to the field, where the three teens from town are still hanging out. Carmina can't tell if they're looking this way or not. She sure hopes they aren't; John would know immediately that they gossiped about him, and she's already messed up with him once today.

"Have you ever played capture the flag?" she asks, hoping to distract him. "The chicken brothers taught us the rules but I think they maybe made some of it up."

John cracks a small smile. Well, Carmina will pretend it's one, anyway.

"The chicken brothers," he repeats.

"You know, Tommy and Matt."

"Do they know that's what you call them?"

"I mean, I've never said it to their faces..."

"That's probably smart."

They reach the truck, which marks the invisible barrier that keeps John out of town. Of course, mom and dad still aren't here. If Carmina climbed up on top of the truck, she might be able to spot them, but it's not like she could get their attention from this far away. So, she's going to have to kill time until they get back.

"Did you eat?" she asks, climbing up into the truck bed.

"I'm fine, Carmina," John replies, a little wearily. Like she's not the first person to bug him about it today — or, maybe like he lacks energy from not eating all day.

She rolls her eyes, but John doesn't see. "Uh-huh." She sits down, pulling the box of food into her lap as she leans back against the cab. "Dad was surprised that there were cookies. Um, not exactly the same, I guess? But still really good." She's not going to give him a chance to turn it down, grabbing one and shoving it in his direction. "Here, try one!"

John, leaning against the side of the truck like he is, is clearly more interested in looking for her parents than humoring her. He definitely looks like he wants to say no. But to her surprise, he actually takes the offered food. It would be weird to stare at him while he eats, so she goes back to debating between a chicken leg or one of the last ribs in the box.

"Not bad," John comments, which is like, crazy, because Carmina definitely isn't goading him into talking.

"They're kind of crumbly," Carmina says, "I dunno if that's what it's supposed to be like. But all the food is really good." She counts the chicken legs out again, just to make sure there's one for each of them. "Um... hey, John? Uh... do chickens eat each other?"

John frowns, chewing the question over with the rest of the cookie. He swallows, then says, "Most animals cannibalize their own if they're desperate enough."

"Oh."

"They would need to be left alone for a lot longer than a few hours," he points out. "Or they would have to be sick. It's more likely a dog will get them before they turn on each other."

Well, at least Carmina can trust John to tell her the truth, even if it's probably not the way her parents would want him to do it. She doesn't even mind him being so blunt about it, either; she's just surprised he's willing to talk to her. She can't help but wonder if this is going to be a normal thing, now that she's ten — is he going to stop being so weird around her? Or is this just a special treat, because of the day? She sure hopes not. It'd be a lot less awkward if John didn't act so scared of her all the time.

Her parents finally join them at the truck. Her mom wrinkles her nose at Carmina sitting in the back again, but she doesn't say anything. Her dad doesn't seem to mind; once he spots the box in Carmina's lap, he reaches over to grab one of the shortbread cookies for himself.

"Sorry about that," he says, "We got held up a couple times. John, you try one of these yet?"

"I did."

"Crazy having home-baked goods again, right?" Her dad waggles the cookie in John's face; John rolls his eyes and circles back around to the tailgate, climbing up into the bed. "Here, Carmina, give me that box so the food doesn't get too cold on the way home."

"You're just gonna eat everything," Carmina objects, handing over the box anyway.

"Nah, come on. Here, you guys grab something for the ride home." He nudges Carmina's shoulder with the box. "You probably worked up an appetite bullying all the older kids out there — and I bet you didn't eat much of anything, either," he adds in John's direction.

"I had a cookie, didn't I?"

"Yeah, I'll bet nobody forced you into it, either."

Carmina grins as her dad winks at her. Her mom rolls her eyes, but doesn't keep dad from bullying John a little. "Grab something so we can get going," she tells John, "And make sure she doesn't stand up once we're in drive."

John reluctantly takes a towel-wrapped ear of corn and a single rib, while Carmina goes right for that piece of chicken she'd been eying from the start. That helps her make peace with sitting safely, at least this one time. Next year, she's definitely going to get to ride in back by herself, she can feel it, and she is going to do it standing up!

As Carmina watches the town shrink behind them, she congratulates herself on another successful birthday. It'd been better than she'd expected — she was a little uncomfortable around so many people at first, but now she's pretty sure she can say she's made some friends? And seeing the town full of food and laughter and music... It had been sort of what Carmina imagines Fall's End used to be like. Her parents probably wouldn't agree, but maybe that's okay. Maybe when she's older, she can try and prove to them that things can be just as good as they used to be — even if it's a different kind of good.

[lucacangettathisass]

JOUST (Chapter One)

SUMMARY: Following a mix up that would only be funny if it were happening to an anime character, my Japanese host family turns out to have only a son, who I will also be rooming with at his school, Shiratorizawa Academy. Christ knows how it could get any worse from here.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: None

TAGLIST:@youidiot91 @meemsx @squishyrobbie @total-insanity @oneshotofvodkaa @moons-and-stars-and-shit

NOTES: I really want to thank everyone who has shown an interest in this fic, it really means a lot! I can’t gaurantee an upload schedule as things are weird rn, but I’ll try to upload as often as possible. So, without further ado, here it is!

And if you want to be added to the taglist just lmk!

CHAPTER ONE

Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,

Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven,

Whiles, like a puffed and reckless libertine,

Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,

And recks not his own rede.

-William Shakespeare

And the rest is rust and stardust

-Vladimir Nabokov

The oddness of the situation truly didn’t come to me until after I had landed in Sendai Airport, which of the two airports I have been to, was definitely the bigger and nicer one.

After flying for essentially twenty four hours, I was eager to stretch my legs, and I had to hold back my groans of satisfaction as I was finally able to move my body outside of the confined space of the plane. I navigated myself through the crowd, taking great pains to avoid colliding with anyone, and apologising if I accidentally got too close, until I came across an empty patch of floor beside a wall, where I proceeded to stand. At that moment in time, anything seemed better than sitting.

Alone and away from the crowd, I dug into the Kuromi sports bag on my left shoulder, resting my My Melody carry-on against the wall, pulling out the folder I had made that contained the info on my host family, reading through it for the umpteenth time.

The Goshiki family, consisting of the father, Hideaki, his wife, Mayumi, and their son, Tsutomu.

That was the odd thing that had suddenly struck me. There was no mention of a daughter of any kind, or any other female relative that stayed with them. I had been too full of excitement and nerves to really think about it before, but now that I was, it did seem odd.

‘I wonder why a family with only a son would host someone from an all girls school.’ I tried to think of an explanation, but my brain was so fried from the flight that I could barely muster up anything. So I shrugged, put the file back, and went on to find the luggage check in.

When I arrived at the luggage carousel, I was surprised to see a family of three there, holding up a sign. A sudden, strong feeling came over me, and I looked up at their sign. It read Welcome Cody Smith, in tall, proud kanji. This was them, it had to be. So, seeing little other options, I approached them.

“H-Hello?” My voice cracked a little due to nerves, and I quickly cleared my throat, scrambling to remember the Japanese I had learned. “I’m Cody.” I bowed quickly, and as deeply as I could manage without completely falling over. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

There was a pause, and I felt my face heat up in the heavy silence. I slowly stood back up, looking over their confused faces.

“I-I’m sorry.” A middle aged man, who I assumed to be Mr Goshiki, said, rather awkwardly. “We...well we were expecting a uh…boy.”

I blinked, trying to quickly translate what he had said in my head, and process it. “Oh.” I said, because I really didn’t know what else to say.

“Hideaki!” His wife scolded, clearly unimpressed with her husband’s bluntness. She turned to me and smiled kindly, although even I couldn’t miss her blush. “It isn’t your fault honey.” She assured me. “Tomu, say hello.”

I turned my attention to the son, who struck me as having intense Rock Lee energy, and not just because of the bowl cut. He looked serious and determined, with a furrowed brow, like he was about to go into battle or something. He bowed, just like I had, but with...conviction, somehow, if that were possible. “I am Tsutomu Goshiki!” He declared, so loudly that a few people were staring. “And I am honoured to be your host brother!”

Startled, and even more sure of the Rock Lee comparison, I could only stare down at him, a boy who I knew was the same age as me, yet seemed to want to carry himself with the dignity and seriousness of a man his father’s age. “Oh. Um. Hi.” I only barely managed to get the word out, a little bewildered at what I considered to be an over the top greeting.

He remained in his stance, upper body perfectly parallel to the ground, as I continued to stare. I saw him lift his head a little, and his eyelids flicker. I tilted my head to the side a little so I could actually see him without my chest obstructing my view. We maintained eye contact for a few seconds, before he stood up right again, practically snapping his body into position with such speed and force that I actually felt a slight breeze. “Let me help with your luggage!” He said as a declaration again, as if this was something deadly serious. “Which bags are yours?”

“Uh, they haven’t shown up yet.” I nervously glanced around, noting all the looks from strangers.

“Calm down now Tomu.” Mrs Goshiki said, with a mother’s fondness, clearly used to this. “I’m sure Cody is tired.”

“Coco.”

“Hm?” Mrs Goshiki turned to me.

I started to blush again, and I looked down shyly. “I uh...I would prefer it if you called me Coco.”

“Oh. Alright then honey, sure thing.”

I looked back up at her and smiled gratefully. “Thanks.” I looked back at the luggage carousel, watching as one bag after another made its way around on the conveyor belt, waiting for mine.

“There you are.”

I walked up to the conveyor belt, hand outstretched to grab the bright pink, Hello Kitty suitcase.

“Let me!”

Before I could react, Tsutomu suddenly appeared, yanking the suitcases. “Is the other Hello Kitty one yours too?”

“Uh, yeah, but I can-”

Thunk!

I stood there, somewhat awkwardly, as Tsutomu stood there, one of my suitcases in each hand, looking so serious that it made the situation comical. “Allow me!” He said, already walking on ahead. “As your host brother, it’s my job to help you settle in and make things easier for you.”

Deciding that it would be more trouble than it was really worth to argue, I quietly followed, trying to ignore all the curious eyes. ‘I wonder if he would’ve done that if I was a boy.’

-

During the car ride back to the Goshiki residence, I listened as Tsutomu told me all about Shiratorizawa Academy. Since I was arriving only a month after the beginning of the school year, I hadn’t missed much, but I would still need to work hard to catch up.

(“It’s a really tough school.” He had said. “But you wouldn’t be sent here if you weren’t able to hack it, so I believe in you.”

“Thanks.”)

But he spent most of his time talking about the volleyball team.

Being utterly ignorant to all things volleyball, I had a hard time keeping up. I got that he was an outside hitter-whatever that meant-and that the Shiratorizawa team was considered to be the best in the whole Miyagi Prefecture. And, what’s more, their captain and ace player, Wakatoshi Ushijima, was considered the number one ace among high school volleyball players, and was even selected for Japan’s under 19 Youth World Championship team. Despite my lack of knowledge, even I was able to tell that that was a big deal.

“And this year we’re going to go to nationals and win!” Tsutomu said excitedly, and with such conviction that I wouldn’t be surprised if that alone won them first place. “Hey! You should see us practice!”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know.” I said, honestly surprised by the suggestion. “I don’t really know anything about volleyball so....”

“You can still just watch.” He insisted. “And I can introduce you to the guys so you’ll know more people.”

“Tomu…”

Tsutomu turned to face his mother, who was looking over her shoulder at us. Evidently, the use of the nickname was enough to get her point across.

I looked out the window, resting my forehead against the glass, watching a city I had only seen in pictures and video go by me.

-

I woke with a start, eyes wide, looking around so quickly that I banged my head. “Ow.” I looked up, and saw that I had hit the glass of the car window.

“Good timing.” Mr Goshiki said, the first words I heard him say since the airport. “We’re here.”

I blinked and nodded, stifling a yawn as I got out of the car. I went to the back to get my luggage, but Tsutomu already had it covered, taking my suitcases up to the impressively sized house. While I was reeling from his speed, Mr and Mrs Goshiki took my sports bag and carry-on respectively, leaving me standing in their driveway.

I had no other choice but to quietly follow them, up the path, and to the door, taking my shoes off immediately upon entering.

“You’ll mostly be staying in Shiratorizawa’s dorms.” Mrs Goshiki said. “But during the holidays and, if you like, the weekends, you’ll be here with us.” She went up the stairs, followed by her husband and son so, naturally, I went with them.

“This will be your room when you’re here.” She said, opening the door to a spacious bedroom. It was sparsely furnished, with only a bed, a small bedside table, a bookcase, and a reasonably sized vanity. “You can decorate it however you want.”

“Thank you.” I somehow managed to find my voice again. I turned to face the entire family and bowed again, a little deeper this time, hoping it would be enough. “You’re all very kind.”

Mr Goshiki chuckled. “It’s fine, you don’t need to bow.”

I straightened up, mumbling a small and embarrassed “Sorry.”

“We’ll leave you to get unpacked.” Mrs Goshiki said. “You’ve got your own bathroom through there,” she pointed to a door on the left wall, “and Tomu’s room is right across the hall. Hide and I will be down the hall on the right. You get yourself settled in while I prep dinner.” She gave me one last comforting smile and with that, the family filed out, Tsutomu closing the door behind him.

I let out a deep sigh, looking around the room, and back down at my bags.

‘Better not unpack too much if I’ll be staying in a dorm.’

-

About two hours later, there was a knock at the door, making me pause in my arranging of the closet in my new room. “Yes?”

“It’s Tsutomu.” His voice was a little muffled by the door, but I could definitely tell it was him. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Alright, be right down.” I got up and went over to the door, only to find Tsutomu was still there when I opened it.

“Did you need help with anything?”

“Oh, ah, no. I’m all good.”

Tsutomu looked like he was about to press the issue, but he seemed to think better of it, and simply went on ahead down the stairs. “My mum made ramen, don’t worry it’s vegan like you put on the form.”

“Cool.” I blushed, remembering filling out that field and now wondering why I did so, when I knew that it would no doubt be a hassle.

I followed Tsutomu into the dinning room, and the two of us joined his parents at the table, big bowls of still warm ramen in front of us. After a quick prayer we tucked in. I had no idea if Mrs Goshiki had any experience with vegan food before, but if she hadn’t, that made the ramen all the more impressive.

The noodles weren’t too firm, nor was the broth too rich. The mushrooms were perfectly tender, and there was just the right amount of vegetables and tofu to balance everything out. I already knew that I was going to find out Mrs Goshiki’s recipe and learn how to make it.

“So what made you decide to do this exchange?”

I looked up at Mr Goshiki and shrugged, swallowing down the noodles and mushrooms. “Just felt like something different I guess.” I idly swirled the broth around. “And, I mean, I’m interested in Japan, so I figured I would take my chance.”

“Really? Why Japan?”

‘Don’t say anime and look like a weeb don’t say anime and look like weeb don’t say anime and look like a weeb I swear to fuck if you do that shit I am shutting this whole operation down.’

“Mostly how different it is from New Zealand.” I said. “An entirely different culture in an entirely different continent, I don’t know, just the usual curiosity I guess.”

‘You live another day.’

-

Dinner passed with regular small talk, with the Goshiki family getting to know more about me and vice versa. I offered to help Mrs Goshiki with the dishes, but she insisted I ‘go right to bed and get some much needed rest’.

The only problem was, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night, I was still wide awake.

‘I guess this is jet lag.’

I stared up at the ceiling, waiting for my eyelids to droop, and for sleep to take me, but alas, it proved to be as evasive as ever.

Sighing in defeat, I got out of bed, went over to the bookshelf, and got back under the blankets with My Melody, and began to re-read Hamlet, again.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Fifty Nine

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

June 18th, 1995 Remy sat as still as he could in the church pew while the pastor continued to talk. Usually he just droned on and on for forty five minutes or so, but today he was riled up. He was yelling about fire and brimstone and God coming down to smite all the gays from the face of the earth.

There had been some serious niggling doubts in Remy’s mind concerning religion before, but this just sealed the deal for him. He was very much not going to believe in any god or gods who hated him just because he was gay.

Toby glanced at Remy and scribbled a note in the corner of the church bulletin. You okay?

Remy nodded, and wrote back, I’m okay. Just decidedly agnostic.

Toby bit back a snicker even as he winced in sympathy. Remy just shrugged and leaned back into the pew. Religion just wasn’t worth it.

  March 31st, 2002

Remy woke up that morning slowly, for once consciousness not dumping a bucket of cold water on his head in order to get him awake, albeit groggy. He stretched, feeling the bedsheets...he paused. He felt the bedsheets in a lot more places than he normally did. He was naked.

Suddenly that bucket of cold water came crashing down and he bolted upright in bed with a gasp. “Holy shit,” he breathed, looking around wildly for his clothes. He found his briefs on the floor and pulled them on, cheeks flaring red like a forest fire. He kept cursing under his breath, hands shaking hard as he pulled up his briefs from the day before. He knew what had happened. He remembered what had happened, every dirty little detail. He had slept with Emile last night, in more than just the literal sense.

“Rem?” Emile asked softly from behind him. Remy turned to find Emile blinking owlishly at him from behind his glasses. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Remy said, cheeks red as he realized that Emile was also waking up naked, and turning redder at the reaction that gathered from him.

“Aw, shit,” Emile said, pushing himself up and grabbing his clothes. “I was worried that we were going too fast, that we did it too soon. I thought...I worried that you’d wake up and instantly be a nervous wreck.”

Remy shoved shaking hands into the crooks of his arms, crossing them tight. “Emile...”

“Did I push you too far? Did I make you feel like you had to sleep with me?” Emile asked, as he got dressed. “God, Rem, I didn’t mean to do that—”

“—You didn’t,” Remy said. “I...I wanted that. It was...it was good. And...and I remember everything, you never did anything I didn’t ask you to do. You asked beforehand if you wanted to try something. You...respected me. You didn’t...you didn’t do what you’re worried about.”

“Okay,” Emile said, eyeing Remy. “But you’re still a nervous wreck from here.”

“Well...it’s not every day that you spend an entire evening and a good portion of the night just...yeah,” Remy said. “Especially since it was my first time doing... anything with a partner. I’m...God, can we skip this conversation? I don’t regret it, it was good—great, really. You were amazing and loving and there’s no one else I would have rather done it with, I’m just realizing that I did do it and while I’m not freaking out about losing my virginity, I am freaking out that what happened really happened and wasn’t just a wild dream that my mind had been showing with increasing frequency.”

Emile blinked. “There’s...a lot to unpack there. First and foremost, you’ve had dreams about this?”

“You haven’t?” Remy asked incredulously.

“I mean, I have, but that’s normal. You’re acting like there’s some big scandal or something. What am I missing?” Emile asked.

“That my family is very, very conservative and I just participated in gay sex out of wedlock for the first time,” Remy deadpanned. “I’m a little in shock.”

Emile stared at Remy for one, two, three seconds. Then he said, “A valid response.”

Remy shifted on his feet and went looking for his shirt and pants. Emile moved around their bed and stood there patiently, waiting for Remy to get dressed. Remy was still shaking, too much to be passed off as pre-coffee jitters. When he turned, Emile was just standing there, looking him over. “Religious guilt?” Emile asked.

“I’m not religious,” Remy said.

“You grew up in a religious family,” Emile pointed out. “My first time with a guy? I had a panic attack afterwards. Everything the church said about having sex before marriage, nevermind sex with another guy, made me convinced I was going to Hell. And at this point I was already scrutinizing what the church was saying and making my own opinions based on what I knew. You can feel the effects of...what’s the word...indoctrination! You can feel the effects of indoctrination no matter if you’re still in the church or not.”

Remy was still red with embarrassment, and the only reason he didn’t grow redder was because it simply wasn’t possible. He knew that what he had done with Emile was fine. In certain circles, especially the ones they both ran in, it was even encouraged. And yet...he still felt off. Embarrassed. Dirty.

“Honey?” Emile asked softly, walking over and tilting Remy’s chin up. “What you did wasn’t a bad thing. You’re not sinning, you’re not defiled. You’re certainly not dirty in any other sense than sweaty.” That got Remy laughing. “Listen. We can either take a shower together or separately, get ready for the day, and talk about it however much you want, if that sounds good to you?”

Remy nodded, flushing red. “You can take the shower first. I only have an afternoon shift today.”

Emile nodded and kissed Remy’s cheek, before he left the room. Remy sat down on the bed heavily. Much as he hated it, he still felt a little guilty. He knew that this wasn’t wrong. He knew that. But he still felt wrong.

He scrubbed his face with his hands. “It’s gonna be okay,” he mumbled. “You’re not in trouble. No one will hate you for this. Emile isn’t the type to make a notch on his belt and leave as soon as he sleeps with someone. You’ve wanted this for a while, and you got it. It’s okay.”

This was one of those things that Kim had suggested he do when his anxiety got the better of him, and at first he had scoffed at it. But now, it was helping him rationalize. “It’s okay...” Remy breathed. In one fluid motion, he stood and moved to the kitchen. Everything was okay, but he needed his coffee if he wanted any hope of no jitters the rest of the day. He got to making breakfast, and when the bathroom door opened and Emile walked out looking almost-immaculate, Remy laughed. “You realize you look like a nerd when you dress in those sweater vests?”

“I’ll wear what I want to wear when I want to wear it, thank you very much, Mister I’ll-Wear-A-Leather-Jacket-In-The-Summer-For-The-Aesthetic.”

Remy blinked. “That’s an eleven word nickname. That’s entirely too long.”

Emile cracked a grin. “I might use it again if you’re not careful and make a jab at my clothing choices.”

“Look, I’m just stating facts,” Remy said, leaving the coffee pot to brew as he went back to their room, grabbed his clothes, and went to shower.

He turned on the water and let himself relax in the spray. He wasn’t tense, exactly, but he had been on edge and it felt nice to just go limp under hot water for a couple minutes. He could let his mind blank and not worry about anything except making sure he didn’t breathe in any water. It was nice to not have to think.

Of course, he couldn’t stay in the shower forever, so he cleaned up and got dressed with a somewhat tired sigh. He walked out of the bathroom to find Emile sipping some of Remy’s coffee. “Hey! That’s mine!” Remy exclaimed with an indignant laugh.

“This is good, Rem. Is this just the pre-ground stuff we buy?” Emile asked.

“Kinda. I add a few extra things when we have them to spice up the blend a little, and make it a little less pure bitter,” Remy said with a shrug. “Why?”

“When I say this is good, I mean it’s really good, Rem,” Emile said. “If this is what you can do with the canned grounds, what can you do with fresh ingredients at a coffee shop?”

“The world may never know,” Remy sighed. “Because the managers don’t want me to experiment with their supplies in case it flops and we waste good coffee.”

Emile tutted. “That’s a shame. You could really make some quality blends, I’m sure of it. Some stuff that they’ve never thought of before.”

Remy flushed. “You think so?” he asked. He wasn’t sure why, but he really wanted Emile’s approval on this.

“I know so,” Emile said with a grin, passing Remy a mug filled with coffee. “Come on, you said it’s yours, taste the fruits of your labor.”

Remy sipped it and hummed. “Yeah, adding more vanilla extract was a good call. I was worried it would be over powering, but that works really well. And I used...” Remy went to the notebook he kept in the kitchen, flipping it open. “I know it was two more teaspoons than last time...okay, yeah, about three tablespoons this time. I could probably stretch that further but this works fine for me.”

He scribbled that down and Emile was watching him. “What?” he asked.

“That’s what you use that notebook for?” Emile asked. “Writing down recipes?”

“Writing down experiments I try in my cooking, yeah,” Remy said. “Because I would easily forget exactly how much I used and lose the recipe, and that would destroy me. I don’t write down the full thing, just the important bits, but...”

“That’s still interesting,” Emile said, looking over Remy’s shoulder. “You’re essentially making your own cookbook.”

“Yeah, a little, I guess,” Remy said.

Emile grinned that scheming grin he had been showing a lot more recently. “What?” Remy asked, crossing his arms.

“It’s nothing,” Emile said, waving his hand in a dismissing motion.

“It’s not,” Remy insisted. “Come on, tell me!”

Emile sighed. “I’m just thinking about what it would be like if you...I don’t know...did your own thing. Went off to culinary school, or even just opened a shop around here, because I don’t know how much culinary school could honestly teach you.”

“You’re not scheming to send me away, are you?” Remy halfway teased.

“No, of course not,” Emile said, kissing Remy’s cheek. “I’d never want to send you away. I just can’t help but wonder what it would be like if you were to actually be a master chef, instead of us just joking around.”

Remy sipped at his coffee and hummed. “I imagine there would be a lot more stress on my end and I might make you cook more dinners at home because I wouldn’t want to come home just to do more of my job.”

“Fair enough,” Emile laughed. “Anything you want to do today before your afternoon shift?”

“Meh,” Remy said. “I think we’ve got ourselves the recipe for a lazy Sunday morning in. And that’s the way I like it.”

“Well, after the night we had, I’m not surprised you’d just want to lay low,” Emile said with a wink.

Remy’s cheeks flared bright red. “Emile Zachary Thomas, I will murder you.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” Emile asked. “I wouldn’t ever be able to do what we did last night again.”

“But you also wouldn’t joke about it and make me flustered, so I count that as a win,” Remy said with a shrug.

“What, you can dish it out but you can’t take it?” Emile asked. “You love teasing me around my parents, or our friends, or anywhere when someone else can hear. Why is it different when I do it?”

Remy shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe because when I do it around other people, it's pretty clear that I’m joking. If you do that when it’s just the two of us, it’s not for show, as much. You might be teasing me, but there’s a part of you that always means it, too. That’s...intimidating.”

“Really?” Emile asked. “You’re intimidated by people actually following through with less than safe for work actions?”

Remy shrugged. “Not usually. Most of the people who make those jokes around me, even if they tried to make a move, it wouldn’t be scary. But with you...it’s different.”

“Why? Am I scary?” Emile asked, worried.

Remy shook his head and was quick to reassure, “No, it’s not because you’re scary. It’s because...you matter.”

Emile stood there, effectively stunned. “...Oh,” he said.

Remy was red as a tomato. “...Yeah...”

When Emile could respond again, his smile was a little watery. “I love you too, Rem.”

[wizardessheart-sideb]

Even at ten o’clock, Gedonelune Town was still bustling. To be honest, as exciting as it was, it was also weird. In Reitz, most things closed around seven so no one was out later than that. For the city to be alive right now was different and exciting. Time didn’t stop anyone here!

“Let’s move along! We don’t want to get to the Academy too late.” My Acceptance Letter to my dream school, which was unfortunately animate and a jerk, popped out of my pocket.

“Let’s get some food first. I’m starving,” I told him. I tried to head towards a cafe, but he got in my face, forcing me to take a step back.

“No. You need to get to campus as soon as possible,” he said.

“I mean, it’s already night and I need to get used to being up late anyway since I’m in the Night Class,” I pointed out.

“Keep your voice down!” he shrieked, trying to cover my mouth with one of his corners. I quickly grabbed him and forced him away.

“You’re literally yelling,” I pointed out angrily.

“I’ve had enough of your attitude! I’ve guided many students to the Academy, but none of them have been as rude as you!” he scolded me.

“Excuse me?” Okay, NOW I was mad. “You rushed me out of my house at six in the morning, barely gave me time to pack and I only had time for one meal on the train. You’ve been belittling me through this whole trip. If I’m the rudest student you’ve ever had, it’s because I’m the only one speaking up.”

Maybe I was being rude. Maybe he was right. But I was running on too little sleep and after this long day, I wasn’t really feeling like going along with a letter that told me a couple hours ago that I was lucky to get in and that he wouldn’t be surprised if I flunked out.

“If you keep up this attitude, you’ll be sent home before you can even have your Judgment!”

“I’d rather that happen that refuse to stand up for myself!” I fired back.

“Well, if that’s how you’re going to be, then I’ll just be on my way!”

“Your way?”

“You can wait by yourself for Prefect Nox. And I hope by then you’ll realize you need to listen to others!” How dare he?! I’m fine behaving when the people around me behave too! I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind but in a puff of smoke, he stiffened and glided limply into my hands. The slight glow around his edges were gone.

“Mr. Letter?” I called out.

Silence.

“Well, okay then…” I rolled the letter up and stowed it away in my bag. Maybe it wasn’t the best thing I got into a fight with him, but he was so rude! I wondered if everyone at the Academy would be as terrible as he was. No… Surely no one will be as bad as him, right?

I sat down on a nearby bench and watched people pass me by. I had no idea what Prefect Nox looked like, so I just had to hope he’d find me somehow. The minutes crept together and the gnawing feeling in my stomach grew and grew. There weren’t any nearby food stands for me to grab something to eat. Sure, I could go somewhere, but I didn’t dare leave before Prefect Nox found me. We agreed to meet here and I needed to stay put.

My eyes glossed over as I stared off into space but suddenly, a Magic Note floated in front of my face.

“Huh?” I grabbed it and quickly unfolded it. The handwriting was kind of sloppy, to be honest. I could still read it, but clearly, this had been written in a hurry.

I’m sorry, but Rex and I can’t come get you. Something happened on campus and we have to focus on that. We will give you your orientation later. - Nox

“No way…” I murmured under my breath. So I was on my own. There was a bit of disappointment; I had really wanted to meet one of the prefects but apparently, that wasn’t in the cards.

At least I could go eat now.

I gathered up my things and wandered into town, looking for something that looked good. Places were already starting to close down, it was so late. That wasn’t good. I turned off the main road and found myself in front of what looked like a large warehouse. The sign outside said “Hidamari Market” and it looked festive, with golden lights hung up and the lights in the windows still on. Maybe they had some open food places?

The marketplace wasn’t lively, per se, but it wasn’t empty. A few people sat on benches placed in the walkways, but most people were in the stores. I turned into the first restaurant I saw. There was a very handsome blond man sitting with a dog-like familiar in the corner, notebooks in front of him alongside his food. A blonde girl around my age was behind the counter, counting something. She looked up and gave me a warm smile.

“Sit wherever you like! I’ll be with you in a moment,” she told me. I nodded and snagged a booth, appreciating the plush seats. That bench hadn’t been very comfortable.

I opened the menu, looking over the fare. It was a mix of Hinomotan and Gedonelunian food, the menu written in both languages. I liked that. But man, everything sounded so good that I had no idea what to get… As I stared at the menu, trying to decide on something, there were footsteps right beside me. Oh no, I’ll have to tell the waitress I’m not ready. But when I looked up, there wasn’t the waitress. It was a guy who looked about my age with piercing green-gray eyes and spiky hair the color of dark chocolate.

“Mind if I grab this seat?” he asked. I blinked and he didn’t wait for me to say anything. He just slid into the seat across from me.

“Uh, hi?” I replied. There were more footsteps and a waitress appeared, her face in that perpetual smile food service people had to always wear

“Hi there, welcome to Haru’s! Are you two ready?… Oh, it’s you!” A look of surprise came over her as she stared at the guy opposite me.

“You didn’t see me come in?” he asked. She gave him a tired look.

“No. I don’t keep an eye out for you. And what do you think you’re doing, dragging your poor partner on a date this late at night?!” she demanded, hands on her hips.

“Date?! Oh no, he just sat down here -” I said quickly, but the guy cut in.

“It’s not a date right now, but maybe in a few minutes it will be.”

I was going to commit murder in this restaurant tonight.

“Jeez,” the waitress rolled her eyes. “Well, should I get you the usual, Zett?”

“I’ll just have some water,” he replied.

“Okay. What will you have?” she asked, turning to look at me. She adopted that friendly smile again and if I didn’t already feel confused, I certainly did now.

“Um, can I have the cheeseburger and some water? And bills separate, please?” I asked. The waitress was clearly fighting back a laugh.

“Of course! I’ll get that right out for you. And I’ll tell Kevin you’re here, Zett. Haru already went home for the night,” she added, turning to him and dropping that smile.

“That’s fine. Thanks, Kristina,” he gave her a nod. She left us alone but came back moments later with our drinks. Zett didn’t look concerned at all, sipping away and leaning back in his seat like we were friends. Honestly, it kind of irritated me.

“What’s with the face?” he asked.

“Um… Aren’t you going to order anything?” I didn’t even know where to begin.

“No.”

“So you’re just… going to sit there… while I eat?”

“Yeah. Is that creepy?”

“I mean, yeah? You just came and asked if you could sit with me and then didn’t wait for me to answer,” I told him. He laughed.

“Well, it’d be rude to let someone as cute as you sit all alone.” He leaned in towards me, a charming smile on his lips and a devilish shine in his eyes.

“I’m not interested,” I shot him down. He immediately straightened up, that flirty look on his face melting away.

“All right, that’s fine.” He sounded nonchalant, but I needed to stay alert. He knew the waitress and I couldn’t count on her if something went wrong. You can’t talk like that to someone you don’t know well. Maybe the man across the aisle could help me? The market seemed pretty big, so I could probably find a good hiding spot if worse comes to worse.

“So, are you just using me as an excuse to sit here?” I inquired.

“No, I’m actually waiting for a package from the restaurant owner,” he told me.

“‘Package?’” He grinned

“It’s a secret.” He winked at me. Gods above, give me patience not to slap this weirdo.

“Hm. That sounds sketchy,” I commented. If I couldn’t hit him physically, I could at least get some verbal jabs in.

“Maybe that’s for the best,” he laughed. “I’ve got a bad boy image to preserve.”

“You can’t preserve what you don’t have,” I said. Zett choked on his water and burst into laughter.

“That’s rich coming from someone who looks like they call their boyfriend ‘daddy’ and would burst into tears when told their age regressing in public kink makes other people uncomfortable,” he replied.

“Excuse me?!” What is with people trying to get on my last nerve today?! I stared at him for a moment, trying to think of a good comeback. “You look like a pastor’s son who’s going through a punk phase to punish your dad for taking away your vape.” Zett howled with laughter, head thrown back and shoulders shaking. The waitress, Kristina, smiled softly as she approached us, placing my food in front of me.

“I’m happy to see you two are having fun. Zett, Kevin’s back in his office waiting for you,” she said.

“Thanks, Kristina.” Wiping tears from his eyes, he got up and gave me another grin. “I’ll be right back.” He left, following Kristina to the counter, chatting with her. I slumped back in my seat. But I barely had time to be alone. The blond sitting across from us walked over to me.

“Is Zett bothering you?” he asked, voice tense.

"Sort of?" I wasn't sure what vibe I got from him. He seemed like a devilish kind of guy, but did I feel threatened by him? Not exactly, but it was always safe be be cautious. "I don't know him and I wasn't too comfortable with him sitting with me all of a sudden." The blonde man’s shoulders slumped.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I wasn’t sure if you two were a fighting couple or not. I can ask Kristina to get you a box so you can leave, if you want,” he offered. I thought about it. It’s true I needed to get to the Academy before it got too late. My food would be cold once I got there, though. But maybe that was the best option. I could reheat it, anyways.

“I’d really appreciate that, thank you,” I replied.

“Hey, Kristina? Can we get a box and their check?” he called out. Kristina poked her head from around a corner.

“Sure!” She quickly came over with a cardboard box and I quickly started filling it up. “Here’s your check, Mr. Hagakure.”

“Oh, I actually need theirs,” he replied, gesturing to me.

“Theirs is already paid,” she replied. “Zett covered it and the tip before he went to talk to Kevin. You’re good to go.” He… he paid for my food? That didn’t seem right...

“He did?”

“He did.” She gave me a wry smile. “You’re awfully lucky. He’s usually pretty stingy.”

“I’m stingy? Kristina, you’re killing me, here.” Out of nowhere, Zett returned, a large package tucked under his arm. Part of me wondered what was in it. He glanced at the table, looking at the box. “You’re heading out already?” he asked.

“Yeah, I got places to be.”

“Do you want an escort?”

“If they wanted one, they would have asked,” Mr. Hagakure cut in.

“Where are you heading?” Kristina asked.

“The Magic Academy.” Her face lit up.

“Oh, really? My brother goes there! I’d walk you over, but I still have a couple hours to work.”

“I’ve got some friends there. I could take you, if you want,” Zett offered.

“Oh, uh, it’s fine! I couldn’t possibly impose,” I said. “Mr. Hagakure said he’d given me directions, so it’s fine.” It sounded like it was going to be a long walk, but it wasn’t like I could get a hotel and go in the morning.

“Well, then. I’ll see you later,” Zett spoke up as I stood up.

"Later?" I wasn’t sure what else to say. I gave him an awkward wave and hurried down the path Mr. Hagakure told me to take. As I walked, I couldn’t help but think about Zett. He seemed so strange. Secretive, slightly annoying. There was something about him that I couldn’t quite place. While he didn’t feel that threatening to me, it felt like that could change in an instant. Perhaps I was overthinking things. After all, it was night and I was alone. Of course I’d be more on-guard than normal.

But still. I wondered if I’d see him again. Probably not, since I’d be cooped up in the Academy most of the time. At least he made my first night in Gedonelune memorable.

---

Somehow, I managed to get to campus and the Night Class dorms. The map that’d accompanied the packet I’d received along with the Acceptance Letter wasn’t great, but after wandering, luck was on my side and entered the dorms.

The building seemed so dark yet grand on the inside. A large staircase wrapped around an elevator shaft, dark wood gleaming in the light of several chandeliers. I can’t believe this is my dorm. It’s so extra. I took the stairs up to my floor. The hallways were lined with windows and stern stone statues. Honestly, even if it was fancy, there was a goth touch to everything. This place could seriously double as a haunted house during Halloween. Just throw up some cobwebs, splatter some fake blood everywhere, and it was good to go.

Suites were labeled with letters and lists of names. How many would be in my class? Who would be in my class? Would we all get along? I sure hoped so. I wouldn’t want to be in a class where no one got along. That’d be a special kind of hell.

Even though class was in session, most of the doors to the suites were wide open. At least I wouldn’t need keys for getting in. And finally, on the second floor, I found my suite, my name tacked on to the bottom of the plaque. That looked like the only bit of personalization in the suite. The doors weren’t decorated at all. I peeked my head through one of the open doors to find a plain kitchen with a girl sitting at the table. Her long, curly purple hair framed her beautiful face and when we locked eyes, she jumped a bit.

“Oh, sorry!” I spoke up. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“That’s fine… Uh…” She looked at me blankly.

“I’m the new transfer student,” I told her before properly introducing myself. Her cheeks flushed a bit as she got up to come shake my hand.

“Right, Nox told us you were coming. Sorry, I’m a bit sick and my head’s just not on right today,” she laughed. I made a mental note to wash my hands as soon as possible. “I’m Isabelle, I’m in the center room. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too!”

“Are you going to be joining classes later tonight, or...?”

“No, I’m just moving in and then going to the Prefect’s office for orientation,” I told her.

“All right, well, I’ll leave you to it! If you need anything, I’ll be in here or my room.” She gave me another warm smile. I’m sure we’d become fast friends!

The doors were labeled with names so it wasn’t hard to figure out which one was mine. It was a smallish room. There was enough room for a bed, a dresser, a desk, and a chair. This would be my home for the next couple of days. Hopefully longer, but after all, I was just a provisional student. I still needed to pass my Trial first to become an official member of the student body. The next few days were going to be hard, I knew that, but I have to do my best.

I refuse to fail.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: A Pressing Engagement ch1 (Not baon AU)

Summary: Labeling things can be difficult, for everyone involved

Notes: Oh, I don't know, this sort of popped into my brain today and sometimes, I like to see the maybes and might haves.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Fluff and Angst, Dating, Developing Relationship, Humor

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

It wasn’t a date, really. More like a standing lunch appointment where they met up wherever the local food trucks were congregating that day. Edge was a fussy bitch when it came to food, but what kind of monster (heh) would turn down fresh seafood po’ boys with truffle Parmesan fries? Not one that Stretch wanted to hang out with, for sure.

The trucks were always busy, Humans and Monsters lining up for tasty treats. Using Edge’s strategy of divide and conquer, they queued in separate lines, gathering up a collection of paper trays lined with greasy waxed paper and holding heavenly balls of deep-fried goodness, along with the less heavenly but still delicious vegan junk that Edge always wanted, under the theory that unhealthy plus good for you would sort of cancel each other out into balanced nutrition.

Look, if it got him food, Stretch was willing to bend science a little.

The park was crowded, any tables were already claimed, if not by people than by their possessions. By the time Stretch was juggling their po’ boys and fries, Edge was through the vegan line and sitting under a tree in the grass, their Buddha bowls and moussaka artfully arranged around him. The pastoral serenity of the scene contrasted in interesting ways to the leather-clad skeleton in the middle of it all and if Stretch didn’t know that Edge would object, loudly and strenuously, he would’ve taken a picture. Called it modern art, skeleton on a theme of lunch.

“hope you grabbed napkins,” Stretch said cheerfully, plopping down in the grass to lay out his own spread.

“I did not. I brought my own,” Edge said, because of course he did, every week. Linen napkins that they both spread over their laps as they shared out the goods and dug in. Strange how growing up in murder world made a guy into a terminal recycler, but Edge was a guy who understood living under strict limitations.

The first bite of his po’ boy made Stretch groan aloud, greedily chewing fried blobs of briny shrimp and oysters couched in a bed of crisp lettuce and tomato. Waterfall aside, there wasn’t much seafood in the Underground and Stretch got a serious appreciation for it once they hit the Aboveground. Edge liked surfing on the ocean more than eating what was swimming in it and even he was eating appreciatively.

It was all good, tasty food, sunny day, perfectly awesome even if it wasn’t actually a date, and if it ended with them heading back to one of their places for some rough and rowdy bootknockin’, eh, well, that was kinda how Stretch liked it. They didn’t need it to be an official date, seriously, that was for people who just started going out, not for guys who’d been together for a few years. Once you’d shared a toothbrush, you didn’t need that kind of shit, right, and Stretch was pretty sure Edge’d forgiven him for that, he’d only done it the once and only because he couldn’t get the taste of garlic off his teeth. That was the last time he tried aioli on their not-dates.

Dessert was rice pudding with fresh mango and around a spoonful of creamy deliciousness Stretch mumbled out, “so, how about undyne and alphys finally tying the knot, huh?”

“Ridiculous,” Edge scoffed.

“right? i always figured them for getting married two weeks after their first date, took ‘em long enough—” Stretch trailed off as Edge scoffed again, louder and with some dangerous spoon waving to go with it.

“Marriage is a ridiculous institution,” Edge said irritably. “If you need to be married in order to feel as though you’re committed to one another, then the relationship is already doomed to failure. But then, most supposedly committed relationships are.” He took a fierce bite of his pudding, teeth closing dangerously around the poor, abused spoon. “That’s why I prefer what we have. No ties, no strings, you live in your apartment and I share my house with my brother. It works for both of us and we don’t need any absurd social constructs to determine what we are for each other.”

It took a minute for Stretch to realize Edge was looking at him expectantly, “yeah,” he said belatedly, rolling his shoulders laconically before leaning against the rough trunk of the tree shading them, “yeah, no strings, no ties, free as birds, tweet tweet.”

That earned him a chuckle, “Tweet tweet?”

“you prefer caw caw?” Stretch teased and his voice was normal, easy. Good. “grackle? i’d give you a kookaburra cackle but last time i tried it i couldn’t talk for two days.”

“Better not,” Edge’s voice was anything but normal, low and smoky, inviting the sorts of things that usually stirred up plenty of different emotions in Stretch’s rib cage, all the way down to his pelvis, and wasn’t it a damn shame his soul was all full up right now. Edge went on, as thick and sweet as the honey Stretch tended to crave. “you’ll want to save your voice for something better.”

“yeah, about that,” Stretch poked at his empty pudding cup, his spoon rattling, “actually, i think i’m gonna head home.”

Edge frowned. Rightfully so, Stretch didn’t usually turn down sex, it was a better dessert than any at the trucks, even the lava chocolate cakes that always sold out. “Are you all right?”

“just a little tired,” Stretch shrugged. “think i’ll turn in early.” He didn’t mention low HP and neither did Edge, who only nodded.

“Then let me drop you off,” Edge started gathering up their trash, separating it out and bagging it up to dump in his home recycling. “You’ll be on the bus for an hour.”

There wasn’t a good reason for Stretch to refuse, so he didn’t. He sat on the passenger side and closed his sockets, let the motion of the car and the shitty crooner music that Edge listened to lull him into a near-sleep. The ride was too short for him to zonk out entirely, but he was still drowsy when Edge nudged him, let him steal a brief, easy kiss before he slid out the door into the parking lot of his apartment building.

Stretch waved as Edge drove away, then bypassed the front door entirely and instead took a shortcut upstairs. Not inside his apartment, but to the fire escape that everyone in the building used instead as a sort of rattling balcony. There was a ratty deckchair in the corner, shoved in tight to keep from impeding the steps, and that was where Stretch sat as he dug out his cigarettes.

He was halfway through the first, basking in the nicotine rush, when he heard the window opening above him then boots on metal steps. He sank deeper into the creaky chair, bracing himself.

“Papy!” Blue called happily as he descended the stairs. His apartment was directly above Stretch’s, their version of a compromise when Stretch gently told his bro that he wanted his own place. The Fell brothers could live together if they wanted and did, and Stretch didn’t judge them for it. But Stretch had let his life revolve around his brother for a long damn time and once they were on the surface, facing the sunshine and an entire change of life, Stretch decided he wanted that change to go a little further and told Blue with as much blunt kindness as he could that he wanted his own place.

Blue got over it and in Stretch’s opinion, their relationship was better for having a little necessary space. Now his little bro leaned over the last metal rail, his starry eye lights bright as he beamed at Stretch and asked, "Well? How did it go??”

Stretch looked away, blowing out a long stream of silent smoke.

That eagerness softened, wilted. “Ah. It went like that.”

“yeah,” Stretch stubbed out his cigarette into the overflowing ashtray tucked underneath his chair, lit another. “guess it’s a good thing i dipped a toe into the river first, bringing up undyne and al’s wedding. didn’t know it was the rubicon i was trying to cross.”

Better than bringing out that little velvet box still tucked away in his hoodie pocket, it seemed. Not like he’d been planning a big production or anything, fuck no, Edge would’ve hated that, already hated it when Humans gave them side-eyes and stares. Nah, the plan was to bring it up casual-like over dessert and now he was pretty fucking glad he hadn’t. The ache in his chest was one he’d get over, give him a few days and a few smokes and he’d be right as rain, left as lightning, all that shit. Having to deal with that hurt on top of Edge turning him down, (rudely, coldly, highly possible, gently, awkwardly, so much worse) wasn’t something he wanted to give a try.

Blue came down the rest of the stairs at a more sedate pace, wrapping both arms around Stretch into a painfully tight hug, “I’m so sorry, brother.”

“eh, probably just as well,” Stretch tossed his second butt into the ashtray and resisted the urge to light another. He’d smoke his way through the pack once Blue went back upstairs, no reason for both of them to be miserable. “he’s working his way up at the embassy, he doesn’t need a lazy shit like me holding him back.”

He could feel Blue struggling not to argue and damn well appreciated it. He wanted to bask in his pain for right now, fucking savor it, his own soul served up as another casualty of the food trucks. Save the rah rah cheerleading for when he was more equipped to hear it.

“guess i better find out if the jewelry shop take returns or something,” Stretch sighed, “having a wedding ring laying around the house feels a lot like having a loaded gun, you don’t want anyone to find it unexpectedly.”

He fumbled for the little box, absently thinking of what would be a good day to head in to the shop, he was pretty sure he still had the receipt and—

In his hoodie pocket was his lighter, his smokes, a little baggie of dog treats, a handful of change since Stretch was physically incapable of walking past a vending machine, something his collection of small toys and weird condoms would attest to. No black velvet box that would never be opened in offering, showing off a simple pair of bands that he’d spent an hour agonizing over with an exceptionally patient salesperson, cause hell, they’d been not-dating for years now, maybe it was time to toss a label on all this. Except it wasn’t and neither was that little box.

“it’s not here.” No box. No rings, what the fuck. Horrified realization hit with the force of a two-ton slap. “it must’ve fallen out!”

“Oh, dear,” Blue tutted, “if it was at the park, someone likely took it.”

“i’d rather they did than him find it! edge gave me a ride home!” Stretch hissed. Panic was tight in his chest, fuck, fuck, “what if it’s in his car? i gotta get it back, i gotta!"

"Brother, calm down,” Blue tried, unconvincingly, “it might not even be in his car.”

“i have to check!” Stretch moaned. He couldn’t let Edge find it first, fuck, somehow he’d stepped out of the path of a speeding car straight into an oncoming semi-truck. “i can't let him find it! fuck!” He latched onto his brother’s shoulders, clutching desperately, “bro, you gotta help me!”

Blue still looked pretty doubtful but this was his brother, his little bro, and for years it’d only been the two of them there for each other, years and tears and love, was there anything they wouldn’t do for each other, even participate in an impromptu jewelry heist?

So it wasn’t a surprise when Blue nodded, finally, sighing out, “All right, brother, what did you have in mind?”

~~*~~

Read Chapter 2

[esrah-rah-rasputin]

(Tw for talk about a sermon, peer pressure, and proselytizing internationally)

Hhhhh the sermon today was basically a big thing that served the purpose of pressuring people into thinking they have no valid reason not to go on mission trips or at least proselytize to neighbors and coworkers, and this made me feel frustrated because yes, there are valid reasons not to do that, even if you don’t think missionary work is lowkey colonization. 

And any reason you might have (like chronic mental/physical health issues, lack of money, etc) isn’t a valid one to them, and then on top of that is the whole “well, thousands of people die every day, and a lot of them aren’t Christian!” guilt trip. Like what?? You’re really going to imply that it’s the fault of regular people that other people are being tortured for eternity, because they wouldn’t risk necessary things to go proselytize to people that don’t want to hear them??? What?? He also kept going on about how he thinks the church is being called to do international mission trips, and how everyone was called to be missionaries, and honestly it seemed like I was watching some surreal horror movie as he said that.

Plus, peer pressure can look a lot like the holy spirit sometimes. Like yeah, no wonder you keep hearing about this mission trip when the pastor grew up hearing the same things and has been preaching about it for the last week, and you’re surrounded by people who go to the same church. Not even to mention the fact that Christianity is the predominant religion in the US, so of course you’re going to hear “calls” go mission trips if you’re a Christian.

I don’t know. I tried to talk about this a little with my family after the sermon, since I’m usually able to get a little bit of my point across even if it’s just to my sister, but I couldn’t really verbalize exactly why this was an issue full stop. I’m just tired and frustrated.

[jeonggukkiepabo]

MIKROKOSMOS [PJM]

SUMMARY: There’s nothing that pisses Y/N off more than her own life. Her family is highly religious, wealthy and nothing she’d consider fun. Her surrounding is boring, but once the new guy, Park Jimin, decides to sit right next to her, Y/N enters a new world filled with romance & fun. Little did she know that this kind of fun had his shadow side to it.

WARNINGS: THIS FIC MIGHT CONSIDER TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR SOME OF YOU. IT CONSISTS OF RELIGIOUS TALK (not in a positive way), DRUG ABUSE, TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, MANIPULATIVE BEHAVIOR AND MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THAT! I DO NOT WANT TO ROMANTICIZE DRUG USE, BECAUSE IT IS NOT ROMANTIC, THERE’S NOTHING FUN ABOUT IT. PLEASE BE SAFE! other than that there’s a few smut scenes, an orgy and some homosexual scenes.

WORD COUNT: 24k 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: a big ass thank you goes out to my babe @namjooniebjonesuniverse​ for betaing this piece, i love you

PROLOGUE x YOU’LL NEVER WALK ALONE

“I don’t get it, Y/N! What did we do to you? How could you end up like that?” Your mother broke down in tears while looking down at your dirty, probably disgusting smelling self. 

“You’re the worst thing that could’ve happened to our family! Just because you decided to fall in love with this Jimin guy. The devil has sent him to test you, but you failed. You sinned just to receive a bit of pleasure instead of listening to our God!” 

Your mother was talking herself into a rage, her veins popping out of her neck as she continued yelling at you, but you didn’t even listen, ignoring your own mother like you already did the past couple of months.

God here, God there. That’s all your family was talking about ever since you were little. Talking about that weird guy that seems to live in the clouds, watching you living and judging whatever you were doing down there. But, how could you think about Jesus when your mind was full of other things? Like your next shot.

“Y/N, I can’t believe it! You’re not even listening to your own mother! I need to call the church so they can send pastor Jin to us, he needs to clean your mind! He needs to get those demons out of your thoughts.”

Suddenly, she starts praying, which is your opportunity to get out of here. You slowly walk back into your room, shivering as the cold floor touched your naked feet, closing the door and smirking at the beautiful man that was already laying in your dirty bed.

“Took you long enough, babe. Did your mother tell you I’m the devil’s son again? That I came straight from hell to ruin your life? Why don’t you listen to her, angel? Why won’t you leave me for your own sake?” His fingers trail over your lips, his actions already weakening you to the bones. Jimin chuckles, his still very muscular chest rising. His voice is full of sarcasm while his lips form the devilish grin that caused you to fall for him a long time ago. 

Meanwhile, he takes the old, rusty utensils from the nightstand and slowly pours the white powder on top of the spoon. As soon as you realized his actions, your mind goes crazy and your tiny, destroyed body begins to shake from the sudden pain you feel. Much to your irritation, Jimin takes his time preparing his own shot, holding the lighter under the spoon painfully slow. 

“For fuck’s sake, hurry!”, your raspy voice breaks, but you could bet that he understood what you were saying - he just didn’t bother to listen. “Jimin, I can’t wait any longer!” Your cold hands were starting to shake so badly that you already knew that you couldn’t even prepare your own shot if he wasn’t ready within the next few minutes. But you knew Jimin way too well by now - he wouldn’t help you, you as a couple were far past this point by now and he never wanted you to go down this path anyway. 

“If you’ve got enough time to prepare your shot that slowly, hand it over. Because I need it now, you know that once I’m on turkey, I won’t be able to do it myself. GIVE IT TO ME, NOW!” You try to rip the improvised belt out of his hand, but Jimin just pushes you away with his foot as he rams the needle into his veins. 

A few seconds later, his eyes are already closing while a soft smile appears on his lips.

“Fucking son of a bitch,” you mutter to yourself before pulling the needle out of his arm and preparing your own shot of happiness. You didn’t even bother to clean the needle; if you didn’t get ill from sharing by now, it would probably never happen. 

Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking while you tried to cook the substance on the dirty spoon - and it got even worse by the time you were trying to fill the needle. You nearly dropped everything while searching for a vein that was good enough, trying not to shoot into the scar tissues. After a few misplaced shots, you finally reached a vein that was good enough for your liking - and that’s when you shot the liquid into your system. Within seconds, you got beamed into a whole other universe while falling asleep on Jimin’s slowly rising chest.

01 x FIRST LOVE

Your life is boring. Not interesting at all. You’ve spent your entire childhood in this Christian boarding school ever since you were 6. Now that you were finally out of that, your parents decided to send you to a Christian college, and to be honest: it really fucking sucks. Besides your packed lessons (that your parents chose for you), you had to take religion classes every day and visit the college church every Sunday. 

“Y/N, c’mon, we’re about to be late to Biology!”

Yeah, well. Your classmates suck too. You’ve never, ever in your entire life, seen someone coming late to class, it’s always been you. Y/N Y/L/N. It could’ve been worse, you knew that. Because of this one weird guy in front of you… yeah, his name is Thaddeus. As in Thaddäus out of the twelve disciples, chosen by Jesus Christ.

After lunch - strictly vegetarian of course - and without any motivation left in you, you strolled down the hallway to the last class of today. You unbutton the first two buttons of your white blouse, leaving enough for the imagination, anything inappropriate was covered by the striped tie hanging wearily around your neck. Whoever thought that uniforms would do any good: thank you, this is a fucking cult.

“Miss Y/L/N, could you please place your feet back on the holy ground instead of the table? Or do you want to clean the classroom afterward?” You huff in annoyance, stamping your feet on the ground so the dirt falls off your Dr. Martens. The act of rebelliousness was overshadowed by the door swinging open rather loudly. You look up, staring at the stranger’s face. None of your classmates had the guts to come in late, but there were no rumors going around about a new student, and rumors spread fast around here. The guy that came in keeps a cold gaze towards your teacher. He looks just the slightest bit taller than you, with high heels you’d be the same height. He looks good, soft facial features but thick thighs and even a thicker ass, phenomenal. As if God had sent you a personal angel.

“My lovely students, this is Park Jimin. His parents moved here from Seoul, please don’t be rude to him and accept him in our class! I bet he’d be glad to get to know every single one of you. Park Jimin, why don’t you tell the class more about yourself?” 

Park Jimin, as the teacher just told them, didn't seem to be very affected by anything. He studies every single face, which gives you the opportunity to study his. A mop of bleached hair, narrowed eyebrows, and brown eyes that had the same annoyed look as yours did. His plump lips were pressed into a line, probably hiding a rude commentary to his introduction. 

“It’s Jimin. And I don’t see the point in introducing myself, wouldn’t want to make friends anyway.” His deep voice didn’t surprise you at all, while he begins walking towards the only empty chair – which of course led to be the one next to you. You fought for this place for about two years, you would never share it. Not with him, not with anyone. “I want to sit alone,” you spit. “And I don’t care.” 

“Alright, the seat next to Ms. Y/L/N is empty as you already saw. Now, tell us about your hobbies, your favorite book, don’t be shy!” Your teacher still tries to make him talk, but Jimin just huffs in annoyance. “No hobbies, I don’t read, just look at the pictures, and for that, I prefer the dirty ones, you know?” 

“Oh, okay, well… Anyways, we’re going to start with our next topic which will be DNA and genetics. I’ll show you a little short film and you have to take some notes so we can discuss it later on. Have fun with our little friend Geni!” 

With that, the teacher started some stupid clip of an alien called Geni that wants to teach genetics while being funny. Didn’t work out that well. 

“Hey, is she always like that? She seems to be a bit sick in the head.” Jimin’s voice drags you out of your thoughts, and you were surprised that he decided to talk to you. You shrug your shoulders while muttering a quick “dunno”, feeling his eyes burning on your body as he was obviously checking you out. You raised an eyebrow as you keep staring at him. “Is there something interesting to see? You should focus on Geni, our little friend, not my unbuttoned blouse.” With that, you continued studying his face, his jawline was very strong in contrast to his hollowed cheeks. His eyes seem to be tired because they’ve always been kind of closed while his gaze is starring somewhere else. 

Just in the moment, he was about to open his mouth, the teacher screams, “Well that was fun! Never been so amused while learning important facts! Ha, Geni is a genius. I hoped you wrote down anything important so we can discuss them in the next lesson. Have a nice night evening and I hope everyone will be there to cheer on our hockey team, they have their first official match today!” 

Soon, the classroom is empty, and everyone is inside their dorms. You changed into something comfier before sitting down on your desk as you start to paint with your new oil colors. 

“Wow, damn. This is sick! Looks like some kind of a trip. Do you draw often? I mean, of course you do, it looks so fucking good!” You got so terrified that you nearly fell out of your chair, then you realized it was Jimin standing right next to you, his eyes on the piece of paper in front of you.

“Ehm, hi Jimin? Nice to see you, I guess, but this is my room?” 

“Hi, cool room. I like your style, fits mine”, he points to your pair of sweats while opening and unbuttoning his shirt. Then he sits down on the bed which hasn’t had an owner. Yet. 

“Anyways, this college sucks. I mean, it really bloody sucks. Teachers and students. Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you, but you know how it is. Everyone seems to be manipulated by God, it’s really scary. Well, I live here now, but I gotta go. See you later, alligator.” 

He was soon gone and you were more than confused. You are a girl, living in a dorm, not knowing there was any chance to have a boy as a roommate. Of course, sometimes boyfriend and girlfriend were able to share a room in a regular college, but most of the time, it was strictly separated. Shrugging the thought off, you prepared your stuff for a quick shower, still thinking about Park Jimin and the impact he’s going to have on your life. 

The next morning already starts with a surprise, it seems like Park Jimin hasn’t been in there the entire night. His suitcase and most of his clothes are still spread across his bed. This boy was such a mystery. 

Not even an hour later, you find yourself in the first class of the day, not listening to what the teacher said, drawing in your notebook once again. “Do you always draw that stuff? I mean, yesterday, today, literally all the time. Not that it bothers me, I really like it. But I wanna know what’s in your head", a deep voice says right next to your ears, causing you to jump the slightest bit. You were so pissed about Jimin’s sudden presence that you couldn’t even answer his question. 

“Oh c’mon, don’t act like you’re listening to that bullshit this nun is talking about. And since you’re a student here, you should be drawing churches or the holy ghost or I don’t even know. But for sure not that,” he points to the burning people you drew, burning in purgatory and your cheeks got instant red. 

“Where were you last night? When I woke up I found your suitcase on your bed, just like you left it yesterday. Listen, those professors are so fucking strict, I don’t want to lose this place, okay? And one of their simplest punishments is scrubbing the church floor – which I don’t want to do either because there will be 20 Jesus figures watching you. And..” 

“Y/L/N, Park! This lesson is more precious than your conversation, seems like I have to inform both of your parents. Detention, both of you!” Your disgustingly annoying teacher interrupts you roughly. 

After 4 more hours of maths and religion, you practically run into your room, Jimin right behind you. “Y/N, why aren’t you talking to me? Are you angry ‘cause of the detention? Listen, I’m kinda sorry, but it’ll be just two hours of sitting there, it could be worse. And why is the ugly rat calling our parents? Y/L/N are you even listening?” 

You feel Jimin's hand on your shoulder, but shrug it off. “Hm? Yeah, sure I am.” 

“You’re weird, but oh well. Are you hungry? Should we head out to Subway or McDonalds? We still have a bit of time left before detention starts and I’m starving.” 

You are looking up to him, confusion written all over your face. “Leaving? The only time you’re allowed to leave is between 3 and 7. Lunch is in the canteen, but the food is vegetarian.” 

Jimin’s eyes widen in shock. “Vegetarian? Seriously? Dude, this is torture! How are you even alive?” 

“Dunno. Never had meat, never wanted to, it’s dead animals. That’s disgusting. There are plants for a reason, y’know?” 

“Sick”, Jimin nods. “Hey, Y/N! Why can’t ants go to church? ‘Cause they’re insects. Insects! Understand?” he laughs so hard that he needed to sit down on his bed, holding his stomach. 

You, on the other hand, open the bible on your desk. “Haha, funny,” you mumble and begin to write down the daily phrases you needed to hand in the next day. 

“Have you ever drunk alcohol? Or smoked? Oh, you hesitated, you’re a literal virgin. In everything! We need to change that, but first: lunch!” You squirm, unsure about what to say; simply because he was right. But to you, this was normal. Sure, you've wished for a boyfriend and maybe even sex in the past, but you never felt like you were missing out on something.

He drags you by your tiny hands and almost runs into the dining hall. “What’s that smell?”, Jimin scrunches his nose, looking confused. 

“I don’t even know, it always smells like cabbage, but there’s never cabbage in the meals. You need to get the vegetable burger, but never the vegetable sausages. Everything with noodles or potatoes is fine, salad is okay but the soups are disgusting, got it? We can go to the city later on and find something better for you.” You both decided on getting the burger and while you directly dig into it, Jimin starts off by taking a bite of the fries, then scrunches his nose again and adds half a bottle of ketchup onto them. 

“I can show you around then, but there aren’t any cool stores to buy clothes, I usually order them once I’m home.” You managed to speak while chewing your last bite of burger. Jimin smiles.

“You’re pretty cool, angel. Never thought I could meet someone I’d like in here.” 

“Look at that, Y/N! They all look like puppets!” Jimin spins around to look around the city. “Seems like there’s only one store with one clothing line, that’s terrible.” Oh boy, he was so right. Each guy was wearing ripped skinny jeans with a Supreme BoGo-Sweater and Yeezys, while all of the girls were dressed in way too tight leggings and some kind of shirts and hoodies that exposed their belly buttons. But you just shrugged, looking down at your mom jeans and the way too big ‘YUNGBLUD’ shirt you wore underneath your leather jacket. You looked like one of those TikTok girls, but you couldn’t help it - you were an emo girl in middle school, some things never change. The only thing that changed was that you got some sort of style by now, not just wearing checkerboard pants and your favorite hoodie with black stars on it. 

“Told you, I usually order my stuff online.” Jimin looks at you, nodding. “You need something that makes you different, angel.” He grabs your hand and leads you to the nearest store with a holographic ‘Tattoo & Piercing Shop’-sign. 

“Uh, well, I do already have both, so no thanks. But if you want to get some…” You laughed, causing Jimin to smirk. 

“Where?” 

You just winked before pulling him into the shop. “You need to get your nose pierced, Jimin. I don’t care if you’ll get detention forever, but I bet it’d suit you,” you smile. 

“No-uh, I’m not getting anything before you either tell me what’s where on your body or you’re getting something else. I guess tongue would look great on you, but it hurts like a buttcheek on a stick”, he raises an eyebrow, thinking about the idea of a pierced nose and actually digging it. “You know what? Fuck it, I’m doing it.” 

Half an hour later you were already able to leave the studio, but Jimin was the only one that was freshly pierced. A black stud was now decorating his nose and you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Never thought I’d see you crying, Park.” 

He laughed, slightly punching your shoulder. “It didn’t hurt, but I guess my nose is just connected to my eyes, so…” 

“Yeah, of course, tell me whatever you want.” Jimin turned around, looking at you, smiling. “Hey, could we just make one last stop? I need to get something really important, doesn’t take too long.” You just nodded, why wouldn’t you? You have more than an hour left and the walk back to college wouldn’t take more than 20 minutes. “Sure.” 

You’ve been walking for another 15 minutes, until you got slightly confused, not knowing the area you’re in. “Jimin, where are we? What do you need to get here? We need to get home soon, y’know.” 

“Don’t piss yourself, little one, I’ll be quick.” You were about 5 meters away from a weird-looking guy, chewing gum and playing on his phone, but once he saw Jimin, he nods and they exchanged a strange handshake before heading in different directions. “That’s it?” you asked, not knowing what to think about this situation. 

Once you were at your dorm again, laying on your beds and listening to different kinds of music, Jimin stands up to get some see-through plastic bag out of the pockets of his denim jacket. You didn’t really get to see it, but watch his movements as he sat back down, opening the bag and pulling some kind of dried flower out of it. 

“Whoa, is that weed? Jimin, that’s illegal! You can’t do this, you’re going to die!”, You panicked, of course, you never came in contact with any kind of drug, not even alcohol. All you knew was that drugs destroy your body, you’ve seen ‘We Children of Bahnhof Zoo’ twice and who would ever want to take anything after watching this movie? Jimin ignored your comment, grinding the weed before rolling a blunt. “Wait, you’re not doing this in here! I don’t want to die with you! Besides that, it smells, you can’t keep that a secret”, you narrow your eyebrows, making him laugh and roll his eyes while lightning the dangerous stick before inhaling some of it. 

“Want some?”, he offers, but you shook your head hysterically, the smoke burning in your eyes. “Hm, guess I was wrong then,” Jimin mumbles most likely to himself. “Thought you were different than the others, but it seems like you’re just one of them. What a shame, I thought there could be more than that between us. But don’t worry, it’s not about you, it’s about the fucking system you were born in.” 

He stood up, going back onto his own bed, while you continue to stare at the wall. Just like the others, he said. He made fun of you. All you wanted was to be on the same level as him, wanted to be as cool as him. Different than the others here. God, you haven’t even held a normal cigarette, now he wants you to smoke a fucking blunt. Slowly, the risk of getting caught, doing something dangerous and the satisfied look on Jimin’s face caused you to change your mind. You couldn’t lay still, tingles running through your entire body, the smell of weed permanently in your nose, as you watched the soft clouds wander through the room. “For fuck’s sake, it can’t be that wrong, right? Give it to me.” 

It was completely different from what you thought it would be, you had always thought weed would loosen you up, sink into your brain cells to calm you down. The only thing you felt was a burning sensation in your lungs and throat, which lead you to coughing more than you ever did in your whole life. Groaning, you handed the blunt back to Jimin who had a knowing smirk on his lips. “Angel, you need to keep that in your lungs for a longer time, otherwise you won’t feel anything.” You nod, taking the glimstick back in between your fingers to take another hit. “Try to act as if you’d want to swallow the smoke before taking another hit”, Jimin tried to explain, switching back onto your bed to help you. 

Great, you thought, you were even too dumb to smoke a fucking blunt, but kept following his instructions. Swallowing the smoke, holding your breath, trying not to cough your soul out of her body. “Sick, isn’t it?”, Jimin asks, grinning widely. You, on the other hand, were kinda disappointed, shrugging your shoulders. “Yeah, it’s so chill, dude,” you mumble and let yourself fall back onto the sheets. Minutes later, you were fast asleep. 

Part 02 x BOY MEETS EVIL

The entire class was staring at you once you walked into the room. The teachers were talking behind your backs when they saw both of you walking through the corridors. “Jimin, they’re staring,” you mumbled anxiously, turning quite shy. “Of course they are, angel. You look so pretty today,” Jimin complimented you – or your outfit. He made you wear a bra that pushed your tits to a maximum, having you open only the first button of your blouse and to complement your long legs in the tiny skirt, you wore Dr. Martens boots instead of your Converse. You grew nervous, not knowing what the teachers would tell you, but you felt good right next to Jimin. He always looked good without effort, you simply wanted to look good too. Smiling, you nodded, head feeling slightly heavier than usual. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, what on earth did you do? Wearing your uniform like this is against god’s law! Jesus will be so disappointed in you, my dear.” Your teacher sent a quick prayer to god before letting you sit down. 

“Do not judge, or you too will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you,” you muttered under your breath but made sure the nun would hear it while Jimin snorted, then laughed. You felt strong, almost at the same level Jimin was on. 

“Ms Y/L/N, you’re going to write the entire first book of Matthew, since you put such a shame on him. And pray to god, he sees all of us!”, the teacher almost screamed before returning to her lesson. “Shit, angel. You really battled this old slut. Religion against religion! That was so sick, we need to celebrate it later!”, Jimin showed you the tiny bag he held in his pants pockets. 

“Dude, not here, not now. We’re still in the classroom! And I need to write down this fucking book later on. The hoe wants to kill me, it’d usually take a week to finish that, I can’t do it in just one evening.” Groaning, you let your head fall on the table. “You go smoke, I’ll do my shit.” 

In your room, you directly started copying the text, smelling a familiar scent about 7 pages in. You sigh, but keep your eyes on the bible, your hand already hurting from holding the pen. Who even came across the idea of writing the bible? You laughed, believing more in Harry Potter than this shit of a fiction. 

“C’mon, stop this boring shit. Bible studies are over now, Jimin time starts now. If you don’t come laying down next to me, I’ll be sad.” Jimin pouts, making you laugh, which leads you to closing the books and walking towards his bed, letting him pull you right next to him. With that, you were smoking your second joint in as many days. 

You were currently repeating your freshly learned process of smoking until the room was completely filled with smoke. Your head was resting on Jimin’s lap, as you talked about conspiracy theories and religion. I mean, as far as a discussion between two stoned teenagers can go. It’s not serious at all because you couldn’t stop laughing the entire time while playing some 90s music in the background. 

“Uh, Jiminie, why are all these guys dressed up as monkeys?” you asked, staring at the screen in confusion. 

“Well, dunno. But this song is a bop, who doesn’t like the Bloodhound Gang? Oh, wait, play this! I loved it as a child!” he pointed to a different video, jumping off the bed excitedly. Seconds later, the intro of ‘Californication’ started, changing your vibe completely. You closed your eyes before screaming to the chorus while Jimin tried to beatbox the melody. Then, he pressed a quick peck onto your lips, before both of you broke out in laughter. ‘Barbie Girl’ started and you transformed into Barbie and Ken while dancing wildly to it. “Wait, I know another one!” Jimin pushes you back onto the bed before playing another song. 

All the people look at me like I’m a little girl, 

well do you ever think it’d be okay for me to step into this world? 

I know I may come off quiet, I may come off shy, but I feel like talking, dancing when I see this guy. 

All I know is that I’m happy when you’re dancing there. 

Jimin moves his body like it’s something he does on a daily basis, swinging his hips sinfully while his eyes were locked with yours. His lips move with the lyrics, playing with the hem of his shirt, letting it fall to the ground quickly and exposing his toned abs. His own hands were roaming his muscular chest, the music getting to it’s best. 

I’m a slave for you, I cannot hold it, I cannot control it, 

I’m a slave for you, I won’t deny it, I’m not trying to hide it. 

Baby, don’t you wanna dance up on me? 

He sits onto your lap, but all the laughter from a few moments ago was gone, this shit was dead serious and fucking hot. His hips move against yours, similar to a snake on the ground, while his lips keep singing the song into your ear. The song changes, but none of you care about ‘Toxic’ being played in the background, with this guy on your lap, you’d ignore everything going on around you. You were just a teen, your cunt screaming for attention. 

There’s no escape, I can’t wait, I need a hit, baby gimme it. You’re dangerous, I’m loving it. 

Too high, can’t come down, losing my head spinning ‘round and ‘round. Do you feel me now? 

You didn’t feel anything besides your juices forming a wet patch in your panties and your rising chest. Being stoned made you so loose that you didn’t give a single fuck and totally digging his show. Your hands roam his back onto his ass, while licking your lips and staring at Jimin’s toned chest one more time. Jimin, on the other hand, keeps on going with his show. 

With the taste of your lips I’m on a ride – you’re toxic, I’m slipping under. With the taste of your poison paradise – I’m addicted to you, don’t you know that you’re toxic? 

Then, you're sharing your first kiss with this edgy man, his stubble feeling rough against your soft skin, his lips are chapped and the exact opposite of yours. But the feeling of his dominant tongue entering your mouth and fighting with your own was so much better than you could have imagined. Jimin knows what he wants and that was you. He throws your smaller body back and climbs on top of you, his hands grabbing a fistful of your hair, while you swing one leg around his slim waist. Your teeth slam against each other’s but that was nothing that could tear you apart right now. His lips started to move down your neck, leaving some love bites and a wet trail on your collarbone, which made you groan out in unknown pleasure.

But suddenly, it felt like someone spilled cold water into your face, you were wide awake now. You snap back to reality and realize that Britney’s voice in the background was nothing more than embarrassing. “Uh, Jimin, sorry, but this is weird.” You shove him back onto his own bed, while accidentally touching his hard on. “Fuck, Y/N, what are you doing? Just let it happen, we’re both horny and goddamn high. Why do you want to end this right now?” 

But it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t know you were a virgin. And he couldn’t know that anything sexual wasn’t a part of your life until now - you were simply ashamed.

You went straight to bed without talking to Jimin, not even trying to solve your problem. You even woke up an hour before him and ran off into the classroom without him knowing. You were the first one there, which gave you more than enough time to think about yesterday. But Jimin never came to class, the seat next to you was empty again, but this time you didn't enjoy it. Everything was like before, when there was no weird but attractive boy in your life. The only thing that has been changed were your thoughts, running back to last night, back to his hands roaming your body and soon enough, you were squirming in your seat, groaning in frustration. You couldn’t help but start drawing Jimin, his messy hair, wide grin, and red, sad eyes. 

You knew it was right to end what happened, it was just the weed that made you kiss him. You shouldn’t have smoked in the first place; like your parents always told you. But you had to admit that the kiss turned you on, even thinking about it now made you wet again. 

“Y/L/N, I’m talking to you, don’t you listen?” the weak voice of your teacher drags you out of your daydream, while you were trying to find out what they were talking about. “I wanted to know which disorders of the synapsis exist?” 

“The synapsis can be damaged by, among other things, strokes or Lyme disease. But you can also lose synapses by age or health differences,” you roll your eyes, sinking back into your fantasies. 

After lunch, you went straight back into your room, where Jimin was comfortably lying on his back, surrounded by smoke. He, of course, had your entire attention while you placed your bag down and loosened the tie around your neck. He’s just laying there, eyes closed and listening to music, yet looking like a Greek god. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and you could finally concentrate on the tattoos around his chest, which was completely hairless. Your feet dragged you to his nightstand, where the rest of his joint was laying in an ashtray. Without looking at him, you took it and inhaled a few times before taking the ashtray to your desk, the joint still between your lips.  “You could’ve asked instead of stealing my weed, y’know? But I guess it’s how it is, you take what you want before realizing you don’t really need it, huh?”, his groggy voice caused you to shriek, yet send tingles through your entire body. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, if I knew you were awake, I wouldn’t have taken it. Well, I need to do my homework anyways.” 

“Mh, sure.” 

The THC starts to work its way into your brain so that you needed to repeat every other sentence before giving in and laying down onto your bed, listening to Kodaline with your headphones. 

Your gaze wanders automatically over to Jimin, listening to the lyrics and comparing them to your own life so far. He had changed you the past few days. You smoked weed. You made out with a guy. The thing is, you didn’t mind it at all. It was different than the world you were born into, different than the secret kisses you shared with some of your friends so far. You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t even notice Jimin's gaze. Your heart cramps as you see his sad expression and the frown he is wearing. You didn’t want to see him suffering, wanted him to be happy. The music touches your insides, the bottom of your heart, and suddenly,  you were able to feel anything. Closing your eyes, you allow to let your mind sink deeper into the music and away from Jimin. 

“Y/N, don’t act like you’re sleeping now. I’m not that stupid, if you don’t want to talk, then leave it. But don’t ignore me.” You haven't noticed that Jimin was now sitting next to you, but you had so many questions to ask that you needed to talk to him. Sighing, you sat up and started to chew on your chapped bottom lip, biting onto the dead skin and pulling it off. You didn’t want to start talking, but also didn’t want to give him another reason to be mad. 

“’m sorry, Jiminie,” you mumbled, not daring to look up at him. He just looks down at you, confused but grinning. “We nearly fucked and all you’ve gotta say is that you’re sorry? You’re so brave, angel.” You roll your eyes in annoyance and stand up, walking to your desk, simply trying to get more distance in between you. Jimin just groans, holding your wrists and pulling you back into his chest. “No, Y/N. We really need to talk. Not even a junkie like me could forget about this”, he looks at you with his big brown eyes and you furrowed your eyebrows. What did he say? Junkie? All he does is smoke weed, just like most teens would. “Jimin..” He just shakes his head at you. 

“I’m talking. You sit down so I can start. You don’t really know how fucked up I am, angel. Why I landed here. Y’know, in the past, I drank a lot, but I always hated the aftermath. I thought weed would be the best option. Well, I got kicked out of high school ‘cause I was always stoned, never came to school and didn’t do anything. Well and because I fucked one of the teachers, but never mind that. I tried to experience everything, especially with my sexuality. I had lots of meetings with my clique where we all just fucked. Girls, boys, girls, girls, boys, boys. Name it, I had it. Y’know, sex with guys… It’s just so different and I preferred it over girls, but since I saw you, it seemed to change again.” 

“Anyways, my mom found out what I was doing, so she sent me into some kind of drug cleanse camp ��because she wanted me to get off the weed. In the camp, I met this guy which had lots of pills and ‘cause we couldn’t smoke, we took those instead. We swallowed one trip after another and when I came home, I never stopped. Of course, I had to tell my friends about it and soon we started to take whatever pills.  One day, we didn’t get the effect we wanted to, so one of us brought cocaine and crack. I took coke too often, my nose never stopped bleeding and I had lots of problems breathing because it was completely crusty. I never dared take crack tho, I knew how the junkies looked like and I didn’t want to end up like them.” 

“When my best friend’s grandma came into the hospital ‘cause of cancer, she got lots of morphine and fentanyl plasters to help her pain. Well, he stole them. We were one step closer to our end. I took coke to party and fentanyl to calm down afterward. Namjoon, my best friend, he was almost like a brother, then brought H to us. He smoked it through a Dr. Pepper can, of course, we knew what he was doing. Just a few days later, I found him dead because some fucking idiot sold him dirty H. Ever since I stopped doing most drugs except for weed.” 

His gaze finally met yours and you could tell he was afraid to see your reaction. You couldn’t help but hug him, letting some of your tears break free and give him the warmth he had probably missed forever. But now you knew what you wanted, him, his life. To experience exactly what he had experienced. 

You haven’t said anything the past few minutes, so you had to clear your throat before starting to talk. “Jimin, I… I don’t know what to say or how to react. I mean, it’s great you didn’t do hard drugs, what happened to your friend... It would’ve broken anyone. You stayed strong, that’s what counts. I guess nothing bad can happen when you’re just smoking weed. Besides that, I’m with you now and you know, I’m sorry. I mean, I enjoyed this kissing situation, but it was one of my first times kissing a guy. I am not experienced. My parents always taught me it’s a sin to do anything like this before marriage. I really didn’t want to hurt you, I just didn’t know how to react, okay? Maybe we could just take things slow, yea?” You rubbed circles on his back, trying to calm both of you down. 

“Sure, angel, it’s your decision, I’m just glad you accept me the way I am. I just acted like this ‘cause I thought you’d like it too. I mean, you obviously did, but I guess next time I’ll ask before just attacking you, I’m not the devil, y’know?” Jimin chuckles and to you, it sounded like heaven. He doesn’t usually laugh, besides his usual cocky smirk, and it really made you happy to be the one that could cheer him up. “Am I even allowed to say the d-word in here?” 

“Dunno, but you’ve had sex with boys, you’ll end up in hell anyway. By the way, were you a top or bottom?”, you laughed, but still curious about the man in front of you and all the secrets he still had to share with you. 

“Ouch, angel, that hurt. Would you really consider me being a bottom? But it would be a shame to waste the half-smoked joint, would you please finish it with me, my lady?” How could anyone ever say no to this beautiful man? You shake your head, laughing before grabbing the glimstick between your lips. You decided to stay in bed the entire day, smoking and kissing here and there, being lost into each other and the stories both of you had to tell until you fell asleep curled into each other. 

The next weeks went by much quicker than anyone would’ve thought, exams came and went by, there weren’t lots of lessons Jimin and you spent clean, but your pocket money couldn’t buy you as much weed as you soon needed, which brought you to different kinds of medicine to keep you high enough. This way, you took antidepressants to get rid of your lows.

The time came where you were already taking pills for breakfast, just to ‘survive boring lessons’, to get through the morning before smoking your first joint for lunch. Jimin and you were never arguing, just laying in bed, making out and whispering sweet words to each other. You haven’t had sex yet, you just weren't ready for it and Jimin accepted it. He was just a generous boyfriend, taking care of his angel. You knew you loved him, but sometimes your mind wanders off to his past, high thoughts running through your head. 

Jimin kissing other guys, while you were alone in your room. 

Jimin fucking other girls, because you weren't ready for him. 

Jimin cumming into other guys and girls, because you couldn’t fulfill his needs. 

Of course, you knew you weren’t in a serious relationship so far, Jimin always said those don’t really exist between stoners, but you didn’t want other people to fuck the guy you were currently hooking up with. You were never the jealous type, but Jimin was supposed to be yours. In his opinion, he could do whatever he wants with other boys and girls, but as soon as you even dared to look at some boy in class, he would get angry and stop talking to you for the rest of the day, leaving you behind in your shared room. Especially those days where the meds weren’t enough to share, you were just angry at each other but would end up in bed, kissing and apologizing in between.

Those days, you liked to say that you were independent. Today, you can only laugh about this tragedy that was happening, because all you felt wasn’t real. You were just in love with the drugs he gave you. 

But what do people always say? You learn through experience. And sometimes you need to fall, face down on the ground to realize that.

Part 03 x EPIPHANY

“Yes, mum, I’m fine, but I really can’t come home these holidays. What? Oh, yeah, I need to learn so much, exams are coming up and I want to pass this year. No, I don’t miss any lessons, studying just became a bit harder. Yes, I’m learning a lot with Jimin, he’s really good at Maths and Physics, he can help me a lot. Yes, I’ll tell him, mum. Love you too.” 

You hated lying to your mother, but what else were you supposed to say? “Hi mum, I can’t come home ‘cause I’m kinda addicted to pills and you’d kick me out if you knew”? Nah, that wasn’t an option. So you decided to head wherever Jimin went, tagging along, spending some extra time with him.  

“I don’t like that, Jimin. I hate lying to her”, you roll your eyes at the black phone screen, then looking over to your so-called boyfriend. “You needed to, babe. Now c’mon, I’ll help you forget your mother”, Jimin pulls his angel onto his lap, kissing you just like he knew you like it. Once you started to have sex, you solved every little argument with a quick fuck. Not enough weed? Sex. One of you looked at a different guy/girl? Oral. You, not being able to go home because you were high all the time? Making out and fucking again. 

And you could finally understand what Jimin meant when he was saying that nothing compares to the feeling of feeling so close to someone, but you always thought that was just the side effect of all the drugs you took. You were currently lying under Jimin, feeling as his orgasm overcomes him, but not feeling anything yourself. Your thoughts were wandering to your family and friends at home and not seeing them for the next few months, missing them already. And well, thinking about that while being fucked is nothing that turns you on. Jimin rolls off of you, building another blunt, still out of breath. 

“But what if she gets why I’m not coming home? I’ve never just stayed here, always went home. She’s not that stupid, Minie. Shit, she’ll know. She’ll take me off college.” 

“Fuck, angel, shut up, will you? Here, take another hit, you know, everything gets better after that”, he hands you the already lit blunt, and damn, he was right. 

“Fuck, Hoseok, what’s up, dude?” Jimin runs up to the tall guy, pressing his lips on top of his. You were too high to care, too high to be angry, too high to feel anything. You just stare at Hoseok, his curly red hair, brown eyes and the slight stubble on his chin and cheeks. His eyes had lost their glow, his skin was red and oily. 

“Hobi, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Angel, this is Hobi, my best friend.” And his best friend was very attractive, not gonna lie. “Hey.” You weren't interested in small-talk, nibbling on the skin around your blue nail polish while staring into the woods. You had arrived at the train station a few minutes ago and Hobi was the one that was supposed to pick you up. Instead, they met at some random field, surrounded by trees and a little sea, not knowing why. You were tired, hungry and somehow not in the mood for anyone besides Jimin. “Y/N, isn’t there some nickname for you? Y’know, I’d love to call you something special. Like a street name, Y/N doesn’t fit your new self. Like…Diamond.” You roll your eyes, huffing. “Do I look like a stripper? Use my real name or don’t talk to me at all.” 

Hobi laughs. “Damn, baby girl is feisty. Mhh, I kinda like that. Baby Girl.” Now it was Jimin's turn to step him, growling. “Don’t. Call. Her. Babygirl. She’s mine.” The red-haired boy stepped aside, hands up in defense. “Okay, okay, J. Y/N is it, Y/N it stays. Let the little pumpkin live a little. PUMPKIN IT IS!” He held his hand out to high five the young couple, but neither of you made a move, instead, rolling your eyes in annoyance.  "You're too affectionate, Hobi." 

"He is, but you used to call me marshmallow, Jimin. Remember? That one sucked too", you smirked.

You walk a few steps away, throwing some pills into your mouth and swallowing them dry, exploring the bit of nature you were able to see. “Throw those away, Pumpkin. I’ve got something better, here you go”, Hobi stopped beside you, holding out his hand. You gave him the most bored glare you had to offer but open your hand as well. He handed you a little paper, Cheshire from Alice in Wonderland printed on it. “Put it on your tongue, have fun on your adventure, it’s a pleasure meeting you, Pumpkin.” Hobi winks at you, while you look over at your boyfriend who had a knowing grin plastered on his face. Shrugging your shoulders, you do as you were told and kept on walking deeper into the woods, wanting to spend your trip alone. 

You don't know what was on that paper, but you felt better than you ever did. Laying on a neon green field, the flowers were so colorful you couldn’t stare at them without squinting your eyes. The sky was super bright, the sun smiled at you so beautifully that you couldn’t help but smiling back at it. You didn’t want to stand up, but you wanted to explore the entire forest, maybe even talking to some deer and bunnies. Oh, and you wanted to be with Jimin so bad. Where was he? Probably with Hobi, which you can't deny, was wonderful. Yeah, you liked him.

“Fuck, angel. Why are you laying on these branches? We’ve been searching for you the entire day, and why the fuck are you smiling at me?” Jimin seemed to be angry, but you didn’t care. You wanted to dance, swing around, listen to music. You couldn’t do that in the woods, but still had the urge 

“Babe, can we go clubbing? I really, really want to dance, but there’s no music here. I want to drink alcohol. Whoop, you’ve turned me into such a bad girl, you should spank me for that.” You laughed while twirling around your boyfriend, dancing like you were the happiest person on earth, which causes Jimin to generously smile before narrowing his eyebrows. “I shouldn’t just spank you, I should handcuff you to the bed and torture you, angel. But not now. And we can’t go clubbing in the woods, c’mon, let’s get you out of here. Hobi, what did you give to her?” You got bored of their conversation, so you kept walking, not caring about what Hoseok actually gave you. 

A couple of hours later, you were sitting in some house full of Jimin's and Hobi's friends. Whatever Hobi gave you, you felt nothing of it anymore, the effect was completely gone, and you were on your daily low. You decided to sit outside, curling up in front of some creek and watching the water flowing, not caring about the party, just waiting for Jimin to look after you. 

“Yo, Pumpkin, why don’t you come inside? The last few lines are gone and I have the last bag of the good stuff saved. I’m sure you don’t wanna spend time with Jiminie-pabo when you’re sober, c’mon in.” Hoseok pats your shoulder before running back inside, your sad body following him. As soon as you were inside, you immediately see Jimin, his freshly dyed peachy mop of hair bent over the table, a rolled Dollar in his nose, snorting whatever is on the table. Raising your eyebrow, you remember him telling you he’d only do weed and pills, him snorting coke was nothing you wanted to see. You grew nervous, not knowing what he’d be like on this high, so you kept watching the situation before sitting down next to one of his handsome friends, ending up with another rolled Dollar in your hand. 

Seconds later, your nose burnt, but the feeling went away soon enough to be replaced by a sudden high. You felt like the queen of the clouds, not being able to sit still. “What are we even doing here? Let’s go celebrate our lives!” Dragging a happy looking Jimin with you, everyone went to a house party in the neighborhood where one line followed another, you didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to feel small again. 

“Jimin, I fucking love you. I’m so happy we came here.” You were dancing like a 70-year-old couple, holding each other tight, his head laying on top of yours. “Mh, love you too, angel. Want to feel ya, c’mon upstairs”, he mumbles into your ear while grabbing your hand and leading you into the first empty bedroom, closing the door. Of course you ended up fucking. You were on top of Jimin, riding him because he had no strength left to pound into you like usual, both of you coming to your highs before Jimin fell asleep underneath his angel. 

Suddenly, the walls started to move towards you, the room getting tinier. “Minie, can you see that? Minie? Jimin!” You panicked, probably the drugs, probably your paranoia, but Hoseok was soon next to your naked body. “Calm down, Pumpkin. Breathe. Jimin is just sleeping, let him be, don’t miss the party! C’mon!” He gave you another mouth full of pills which you swallowed without even asking. You then put the blanket over Jimin before getting dressed, suddenly feeling pumped again. Hobi was right, the party has just started, why not enjoy it then? 

So you left Jimin sleeping in this room, went downstairs and have been dancing ever since. You can’t even remember, with whom you danced, don’t even know their names. At first, you kept standing in the doorframe, watching the crowd but after what seemed like an eternity, some red-haired girl with lots of cute freckles came up to you, grabbing your hand and laid it onto her naked breasts. She was naked like most of them, her bright green eyes watching you carefully. You couldn’t stop staring at her beautiful body, her face and those bright pink lips. Neither of you used words, the only thing that the unknown girl did, was intertwining your hands and leading you into the group of people. 

Another girl went straight towards you, this time pale with brown locks, but still as beautiful as the other one. She kinda reminded you of how your religion teacher always described Eve. It felt like it was your destiny to go down on those girls, enjoying and praising the female body like the garden of Eden. The only problem you had, was which of those girls to kiss first, Eve or the fairy-like goddess? As if it took you too long, they took the situation in their hands and started to undress you first, while some other person took advantage of your lips. All you felt was stubble and rough hands, but you didn’t want to know more about this person. Getting lost in a wild tongue fight, saliva soon dribbling down your chin, your kiss came soon to an end. As you opened your eyes, the guy was nowhere to be seen. On the other hand, you didn’t know what he looked like, so you didn’t know whom to search. 

Your eyes scanned the crowded room, people getting off together, you're somewhat jealous about the open minded atmosphere. Your hands slowly trailed their way down your now naked stomach, two fingers lightly pressing down onto your clit, making you squirm and you can't help but let out a strangled moan. This situation was more than just a turn on, your pussy wet and drenched in Jimin's cum from before. 

Eve and the fairy pulled you out of your thoughts when you felt their lips roaming your naked body, which lead you into closing your eyes again, fully sinking into this moment. 

Plump lips sucking on your clit, tongues exploring your folds and fingertips brushing over your sensitive nipples send you to heaven. You grab Eve’s hair to hold her close to your drenched pussy, bucking your hips onto her needy tongue. The ginger girl came back with a bag full of pretty pictures printed on paper, putting one on her tongue before kissing you. You can felt it stick onto your tongue before ending the kiss and swallowing what was left in your mouth before smirking at her. 

Your kinky side set free, you quickly decided to push the fairy-like girl also on her knees and presses her face into your cunt as well. They played with each other’s tits, which caused you to come undone pretty quickly, releasing all over those pretty faces. Then, the two gorgeous women decided to lay down on the couch, eating each other out, fingering and playing with their wetness, before being overwhelmed by another orgasm. You felt like you took part in some kind of perverted porn while watching those girls lick of your wetness from each other’s faces. People around them clapped, whistled and soon you were the one on your knees, sucking different cocks and being cummed on. 

The point was, you couldn’t say you disliked it. You loved the feeling of being loved by so many people, loved being the one to give all the love you had in your body to all those people who made you feel those pretty things.

It was your first orgy - and Jimin wasn't even there to take part in it.

You didn’t really know what time it was when you woke up, neither did you know where you were. You just realized your naked body, shivering – surrounded by other naked ones. 

But what had woken you up was a loud scream. Someone was screaming Jimin's name. That’s when the memories hit you. Naked people, sweaty bodies. Pill after pill, line after line. Dicks in your mouth, pussies under your tongue. The women you thought were meant to be with you. Jimin’s name got louder in your ears, which lead you to stand up groggily. Looking around, you had to search your pile of clothes, but you couldn't find anything other than some extra-large shirt and your dirty panties. Cringing, you slid them on once you heard Hoseok also calling out for you. 

“Y/N, hurry the fuck up.” God, why was it your fault everyone was screaming Jimin's name? You didn’t do anything to him besides letting him sleep. Okay, maybe you kind of cheated on him, but he already said, there’s no real relationship between addicts. You just wished everyone would finally shut up, a big migraine starting to pound in your head.  

Hoseok wasn’t alone in Jimin's room, there were at least 7 other guys standing around him, but nobody dared to make a sound. “Fuck, I think he’s dead. We need to clean up and hurry to get out of here before the police come. Grab your stuff, Pumpkin. Why are you still standing here? Hurry!” Hoseok grabbed you by your arm, but you stepped back, looking at him with fear, your entire body shaking. Everyone around you started to run out, dressing themselves and pack their belongings, but you couldn’t move. 

What did Jimin do to you? Why did you ever leave school? It was his fault that you were in this situation and he couldn’t help you out of it because he chose to be knocked out. You kept looking at him for several minutes, Hobi was already downstairs again, when you decided to finally move. Jimin's porcelain skin was even paler, dark circles burnt into the skin under his eyes, but you could see an unsteady breath in his chest. You didn’t know what to do, neither what to feel, but right now, you didn’t feel a single amount of affection towards your so-called boyfriend. Everyone was gone by now, you were alone with a dying Jimin in front of you. Well, you – of course – could call an ambulance, but you would both get arrested as soon as Jimin woke up. You could also wait another few minutes, but Jimin could be dead by then. 

What did he really mean to you? Would you ever take the risk to go to jail just to save his life? 

Who had you become, that you had to choose whether to save a life or not? 

The past minutes you've been awake must be the longest you had been without any drugs for weeks. By now, you wouldn’t even need to take anything to change your mood, you simply didn’t feel anything. You were numb. It felt like everything was gone like Jimin never came into your life. You kept staring at him, it must have been several minutes by now, but you made your final decision. 

As you walked downstairs, you took a glance into every room, frowning and about to vomit the hell out of your body. It was literally yesterday when you thought this was your dream house filled with your best friends, now it was just a disgusting place with somebody dying upstairs that once meant the world to you. You quickly grabbed your phone, automatically scrolling to your mother’s name, but before you could press the green button, you heard someone whimper from above. 

Jimin was awake. 

All your previous thoughts were gone as soon as you heard his voice. You began to run like you've never run before, taking two steps at a time, but you didn’t go into the room just yet. You stood in front of the door, not quite sure what to do now. You could’ve been gone by now without him knowing, could’ve started a new life. 

But you decided to stay, to be there for him. 

Ready to fall for Jimin again, like you always did. Sighing, you walk straight into the smelly room. 

“Minie, you awake?” 

“Mh, yeah. I guess. Fuck, where’s everyone? My head kills me, I need some painkillers. Wait, did I fall asleep last night? During the party?” You nod your aching head slowly, still not really looking at him. “Yes. Happens, if you drink or smoke too much shit, Jimin. Well, I thought you were mostly clean, but I learned different last night. Wow, you’re so fucking cool, Minie. Why do you always have to lie to me? Why do I always have to find out things by myself? Jimin, fuck, answer me!” You run your fingers through your knotted hair, trying to detangle some of it. Jimin, on the other hand, seems to be in his coma-like state again, leaving you angrier than ever. 

“You know what? Fuck you, Jimin. Do whatever you want to do, but I’m going now. It was a mistake to be friends with you”, you let out a bitter laugh, “to even think I was in love with you. You’re dragging me down deeper and deeper every single day. Fuck, I even took part in an orgy last night! I’m heading back to school, maybe even to my parents. I’ll see you after the holidays if you’re not dead by then.” 

You thought your break out would open his eyes, let him realize how important this was to you, but he just looked at you, not answering. Shaking your head, you didn’t even say goodbye, just left the room, the house and lastly the city. Left Jimin. Left anything you had so far. 

Part 04 x I’M FINE

15 days and 6 hours have passed since you’ve last talked or seen each other. 

He didn’t call you, you didn’t write him. It’s almost like he never existed in your life. The bed next to yours was empty, your room just smells like your own cologne and you’ve had enough time to catch all missed school work. You even began running, standing up early and meditated every night. Your life went back to normal, boring and without any action in it. 

It was the 18th day, first day of school, when some guy with mint green hair that you’ve never seen before sits down next to you. In Jimin’s seat. “So,  I’ve heard there was something going on between Park and you? Anyways, I thought now that he was gone, you and me,” he points to the space between you, “could do something similar. I mean, you don’t have any friends since he’s been gone, nobody wants to be alone, right?” Well, I do, I’m fine on my own, was all you thought. You had died a thousand times without Jimin, but that’s over. You were over. 

“First of all, I don’t even know your name. And second, the thing between us was different, you wouldn’t understand. So, if you don’t mind”, you look back into your textbook, trying to keep up with whatever the teacher tries to explain. 

“Alright, well, I’m Yoongi, just in case you were wondering. Besides that, I have the same courses you do, you’d know if you paid attention,” he grins, showing off his perfectly white teeth. “And believe me, I know what it was like between you. High, swallowing pills and drunk off fake love. But you seem to be completely clean again, princess. So, why shouldn’t I grab the chance of going out with you? Believe me, Y/N. Try to get to know me.” 

His brown eyes almost beg you to agree, leaving you weak to the bones until you sigh in defeat. “Fine. What do you want to do and when?” 

To be honest, all you wanted to do is head back into the comfiness of your bed, crying over your restless mind and be left alone. But on the other hand, your mind is restless because of Jimin, maybe Yoongi could be a perfect opportunity to forget about him. “How about Saturday? We could go swimming or head to a nightclub? What do you think?” You nod, writing down your number and say your goodbye as the lesson ends before heading back into your room, letting your tired body fall backward onto the mattress. 

“Ouch”, you stand up again, wondering what hit your back, but scream in fear as somebody wraps their arms around your waist. You turn around quickly, eyes widening at what she saw there. Jimin was back. And he looked fucking miserable. 

His cheekbones were more prominent than ever, skin so pale like the wall behind him. His body stuck in too large clothes because he got so skinny. He was slim when you were together, but now he looked like a corpse. His eyes were kind of milky, they didn’t seem to see anything. But the smile he gave you was as bright as always. 

“Jimin? I mean… How? Why? What are you doing here?” You stutter, not quite sure whether to be happy or not. He opened his mouth, trying to speak, but his breath smelled so rotten that you had to back up. “Hey, angel. I’m back.” He tried to kiss you, but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t fall for him again. 

“Sorry, fuck, I can’t.” You run out of your room, away from Jimin, away from your feelings. 

You knew he was too weak to follow you, too high to care, so you stopped running rather quickly, not knowing where to go. Minutes later, you were standing in front of Yoongi’s door, after asking too many people how to get there and what his room number was. 

Apparently, everyone knew Yoongi, though. So why didn’t you?

You were about to raise your hand to knock on the door when said man suddenly stood behind you. “Missed me already?” He smirked, watching you with curiosity written on his lips. 

“What can I say? I was bored and thought why not hang out right now?” For the first time, you took your time to really check him out. His hair was longer than Jimin’s, a mop of mint green waves on top of his head. He wasn’t a giant, but he had broad shoulders and some cheeky freckles on top of his nose. His smile was polite, loving and his eyes sparkled in this deep brown that causes your heart to miss a beat. 

“Sure, you wanna go out to the river? I can show you the prettiest waterfall ever. I’m going there every day to get away from the people here.” Yoongi already started walking, so you ran a few steps to be next to him, letting him lead you to this unknown place. You didn’t care where you were going, as long as Jimin wasn’t there. 

You were surprised by the beauty of this place, not knowing that anything like that was hidden here. The rushing of the waterfall was so calming, the green of the grass and those colorful flowers made you smile. 

“Wow, since when do you know it and why haven’t I seen this place before? It’s so…”, you begin searching for the right words, but shrug, not knowing what to say. 

“Overwhelming?”, he tried to help you out. You just nodded, a smile still plastered on your bare face. “I’m running every day, always the same route through the fields. I’ve I had known about this… Wow”, you turn around, breathing in the fresh air. 

“That’s how I found it. I didn’t want to run this basic route, so I ran over the fields, always turning directions until I found this. I’m glad you like it”, he places one hand on your shoulders, squeezing it gently.

“Can we walk through it? I want to know what’s behind the waterfall.” Yoongi nods, now smiling as well. 

“There’s a cave behind it, I always go in there to read. C’mon.” He holds his hand out, waiting for you to grab it, and pulls you through the water directly into the waterfall. Seconds later, you were completely soaked, but standing in a beautiful cave, surrounded by nothing but the smell of salt and water. Your eyes search for Yoongi’s, hugging him tightly while mumbling a quiet “Thank you”. His eyes wander down to your lips and you know he is about to kiss you, but to your surprise you don’t mind at all, tilting your head upwards.

Yoongi tasted exactly like you always imagined a kiss to taste. It wasn’t like in those teenage love novels, he didn’t taste like strawberries and vanilla - luckily. He tasted like the ocean, like salt and a hint of fresh air. He tasted like summer – and a tiny bit like mint. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible, forgetting about Jimin and all those memories you shared. 

You just know that Yoongi is a better man. 

You open your mouth, creating space for your tongues to dance against each other while your lower bodies meet, the electricity of that touch causing both of you to let out tiny moans. It was weird to kiss without being high, to actually feel something, but again, you didn’t feel like you need them with Yoongi.

You press your eyes even more shut, not trying to have Jimin’s face in your thoughts, but you failed. His smile, his eyes, and even his smell was now everything you could think of. Gasping, you jump back, looking at Yoongi in shock. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just…”, you look down to your feet, guilt washing over your drenched self. You were truly sorry. Sitting down on one of the wet rocks, you pop your head down into your palms, watching Yoongi carefully, cringing over your own behavior.

“You don’t have to be, Y/N. Is It because of Park I mean, you broke up only a few weeks ago and…”, you didn’t even let him finish, you had to splurt out what was on your mind. 

“Jimin is back. He was laying in my bed, but he didn’t look like Minie anymore. He was so skinny, not a tiny bit of muscles on his body. He looks like he’s rotting alive, he literally smells. Then he was about to kiss me, but I didn’t want to, so I just ran away. Straight into your arms. Wow, I’m such a mess”, you sighed while running your shaky hands through your hair, “I mean, what is he thinking of me now? I’m sure he’ll kill me with a heroin needle once I’m sleeping.” You tried to make a joke but neither of you wanted to laugh right now.  Jumping up, you started to walk around, being splashed by a few water drops here and there. “I need to see what he’s doing. Maybe he’s about to kill himself!” You were about to go through the waterfall, but Yoongi holds you back, rubbing your arms to calm your breathing. 

“Hey, Y/N, calm down. He won’t do anything. If he’d truly feel that bad, he wouldn’t be back at college, right? But tell me, why did you even break up?” Yoongi’s warm eyes watch you carefully while you sit down again, ready to tell him your entire story. 

Once you were back in your room, clothes still wet from the waterfall, you found Jimin still laying on your bed. This time, he had your drawing in his hands. “You’ve got talent, angel.“ 

You stayed quiet. Jimin kept looking at you, raising a brow once he saw your wet outfit. “Where have you been? Showering with your clothes on?” He checked the time. “For about 4 hours? I waited for you, angel. I’ve got some new stuff to try.” He waves another bag around, filled with lots and lots of tiny silver packages.

By now, you’ve watched enough movies, you knew what was inside of them. Ripping the bag out of his hands, you watched the contents carefully. “What did you turn into, Jimin? You've gotten worse in these last months”, shaking your head in disappointment, you grab some fresh clothes before heading off to take a shower. Just as you reach out to open the door, a loud knock on it makes you jump. Yoongi walks in without waiting for you to even answer. 

“Hey, Y/N. I thought you’d want to take a shower as well, I mean, there’s seaweed on your clothes”, his wide grin makes you smile before disdainfully looking over to Jimin. “Park, you’re back”, Yoongi simply says. Jimin just cheers his joint in Yoongi’s direction, then watching you carefully. “You’re hanging out with him? Well, we’ll see what you’re getting from that, angel”, he makes it sound like a threat, but you decided to stay strong, you had to stay strong. Shrugging your shoulders, you head out with Yoongi once again. 

You showered next to each other, you in your favorite bathing suit, Yoongi in some surf shorts. He had quite a few tattoos around his chest and arms, but nothing similar to Jimin’s. “What do they mean?” you point to the artwork on his chest. It was an ox skull, a snake winding through its empty eyes surrounded by different nature symbols. You felt almost naked next to his inked skin, but he just told you that not each and every tattoo has to have a meaning. “I’m getting one tomorrow”, you blurt out before quickly stepping out of the meanwhile cold shower. 

Jimin just stayed in your room, watching you leave, but not caring to stand up - you'd come back anyways. You always did. 

He was thinking about anything that has happened to him in the past three weeks. 

Part 05 x THE TRUTH UNTOLD

Jimin woke up with a bright migraine and dry mouth, looking around for his favorite girl. 

Calling her name, he tried to get up but failed. 

Damn.

 His angel stands in front of the door, her hair was messy and she had dark bags under her eyes. She was alone. “Jimin, you awake?” her voice was calm, but he knew she was nervous. “Mh, yeah. Fuck, my head is about to explode. Where’s everyone? Wait, did I fall asleep during the party? Fuck.” His hands automatically hold his hurting head, trying to reduce the pain. 

“Well, that comes from swallowing all those pills. I thought you were clean and stopped doing hard drugs? Why are you lying to me? Jimin, answer me!” 

Why did she know all of this? What happened after he fell asleep? He tried to catch her reaction, but Jimin already knew she was pissed as fuck. 

“You know what, Jimin? I’m leaving, do whatever you want. It was a mistake meeting you. You’re destroying me. I took part in an orgy last night! I’m heading back, see you after the  holidays, if you don’t die by then!” 

With that, he just watched her go. He let her go. Let her leave his broken life. He kept lying in this bed, not caring about the loneliness. He was just about to drift away, still too many drugs in his blood system to let him actually feel anything. 

He stayed in this house the next few days, surrounded by all those people that made him the person he was. His routine kept the same: waking up, taking a trip, sitting on the couch, drink coffee, taking a trip, smoking a joint, Ritalin, Speed, sex, robbing people on the street, then sleep. 

He even tried crack once, meaning he couldn’t say he disliked something he hadn’t tried. 

“Park, where’s your princess? The night I spent with her was so fucking good, damn, you’re so lucky”, Liv lolls around the couch, swiping some blood off of her nose. “What do you mean?”, Jimin scans her emaciated body that looked similar to his. 

There wasn’t time to eat, they had to spend their money on other things, medicaments got more expensive the longer you had to take them. 

“She licked my pussy so good, but I think I don’t have to tell you about her tongue skills”, her mascara-smudged eyes winked in Jimin’s direction, while she pops herself onto Hoseok’s lap. “Hoe”, he hadn’t had any other thing to say, but calling her a hoe wasn’t even an insult. She sells her body for Heroin on a daily basis. Groaning, he stands up and motions her to follow him. “C’mon.” She laughed, but still following him into the bedroom, letting him fuck her with all the angriness left in his body. 

He tries not to watch while Liv was heating up a spoon with a lighter. A toxic smell was tingling in Jimin’s nose which causes him to give in and stare at her movements. He watches over her shoulder as she ties a scarf around her arm and prepares her shot. Then, she finally injected the needle into the back of her hand, pulls some of her blood in it before shooting the entire load into her fragile body. 

Her pupils turn into pins in a matter of seconds, a silent smile was placed on her chapped lips while she leaned back against his chest. Jimin’s head was on top of hers while realizing how jealous he was about her high. 

“Share.” 

Liv couldn’t hold her laughter back. “You sure, Pabo? You don’t want that. Sure, it’s nice. It makes you feel so free and on top of the world, but not for too long. Besides that, you know Heroin will kill you”, she rolls her eyes, “I don’t even have any left. Keep on taking your trips, some coke or crack, but nothing more. You have a life left, Jimin. Take it.” She glances at the floor, trying to hold back the tears. “You’re not as broken as we are. Don’t you remember your fucking best friend, Jimin? What has happened to Namjoon? I can’t understand how you’re still on this stuff after reliving his death over and over again. Joonie wouldn’t want that, y’know? But as soon as your angel left you, you’re all over it again. Hello? You’re snorting coke like your life depends on it. Your nose bleeds worse than mine. And look at you”, she points to his exposed body, “No single muscle left on you. I could count your rips.” 

But Jimin didn’t listen at all, he just stares at the aluminum foil and the white residue on it. “Head back to college, head back to your lessons and head fucking back to Y/N!” 

Y/N. Angel. Princess. 

“Y/N can suck my ass, Liv. And don’t think you know anything about her, just because you’ve had one night together.” By now, he couldn’t even understand why he wanted to fuck Liv so bad. Without waiting for her reaction, he grabbed the foil, pushing her off him and snorts the last bit of Heroin crumbs that were on it. It suddenly felt like little electroshocks went through his body. Excitement, joy, happiness. Then darkness. He blacked out and once he woke up, Liv was nowhere to be seen. 

He was still naked, laying on the dirty mattress covered in bleach spots. The house was empty, his mind still not clear and his stomach rumbling. He quickly puts his shorts back on before running to the bathroom, vomiting until nothing but sour water came out of his mouth. Jimin sits down in front of the toilet, waiting to regain some energy to stand up, pack his bags, and to head back to the university. 

Once he arrived, he felt so misplaced not wearing his uniform. His eyes wander around, looking for Y/N, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

Instead, he saw Yoongi, some guy he once hooked up with. Yoongi’s eyes lit up once he saw Jimin, but he hurried back inside. Jimin followed him, but when he found him again, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Yoongi and Y/N, talking and smiling at each other. 

The blood in his veins froze to ice while he quickly grabbed some pills to pop into his mouth before looking back at his ex-girl- and boyfriend. Yoongi turns his head, watching Jimin with a smirk, before placing his hand on Y/N’s lower back, guiding her somewhere Jimin couldn’t see them anymore. Groaning, he heads back into their room, being overwhelmed by his angel’s smell, falling directly onto her bed into a deep slumber. 

PART 06 x LOVE IS NOT OVER

“Tell me, do you know Jimin? It seemed like you looked pretty intimate, but he’s never talked about you. He could never know you from here, because he spent all his time with me.” 

You move your feet around in the water so that they create tiny waves, while you watch Yoongi carefully. The little lake in front of the waterfall was actually big enough to take a swim in there, but the bright sun in combination with the beautiful green meadow was too tempting to not lay down and sunbathe for a while. “I don’t really know Jimin. I thought I would’ve known him”, he stops talking, swallows hardly while you wait for him to continue.  

“We’re both from the same rural area, I kind of grew up with him but we would never consider each other friends. I don’t know how to describe it; do you remember when your mum made you be friends with someone because she was friends with their mother? That’s what our relationship was like as kids. We spent time together while our mothers ate cake, but we’ve never had the same interests. But when we were somewhere in between 13 and 15, we told our parents we would have a sleepover, but of course we went to our first official house party. Little Yoongi’s first contact with alcohol – you can’t imagine how bad I felt the next day”, he smiled a little, which made you smile as well, but his didn’t last. 

“We were deadass drunk, but because none of the people there were actually 21, all we had was cheap beer and wine mixed with juice, let me tell you, that shit’s disgusting! Because we were so drunk, we couldn’t sleep at home, so we slept at this dude’s house. We couldn’t even close our eyes for a second without thinking we had to vomit all over the place, so we talked about serious stuff – as serious as two drunk kids could talk – and somehow, we came upon the sex-topic. Both of us haven’t had any experience, never had an actual kiss but we also didn’t want to go out unprepared. This evening ended with us practicing our kissing skills on each other, we kind of made out, had our first non-self-made orgasms.” 

“We kept on doing that the entire next year until we had real sex. I was in love, for sure, but he had this weird group of friends, I guess you know them by now. Those junkies that Jimin seems to be a part of again. Back in the days he just smoked weed, but our ‘relationship’ got distant, he did anything to get more and more to smoke, one day I just wasn’t important enough for him. I was in his way because I wanted him to stop, but he broke my heart.” Yoongi’s voice got shaky, his breathing unsteady. He stayed quiet for a few minutes to collect himself while you laid your head against his shoulder, showing him that you were there. “I couldn’t stand being around him anymore, so I came here to study and I thought I’d never see him again. Then I saw him arrive a few months ago, you can’t imagine how I felt, Y/N. I thought he’d make a move on me again or he followed me to this place, but he only had eyes for you”, his voice broke, he sounded sad and dismissive. You were shocked about his sudden mood swings, but he smiled at you. “I can’t blame him, you’re beautiful, Peach. Too perfect for Jimin to ever be enough for him”, his hand caressed your cheek, while your eyes met. Soon enough, your lips met, tongues dancing against each other and minds finally not thinking about Jimin. You fall back into the soft grass and don’t even realize how soon the sun is going under and the moon is shining bright in the night sky. 

Once you headed back into your room, exhausted and pretty tired, you were glad to see that Jimin was gone. His bed was messy, his duffel bag on top of it. Hesitantly, you stepped in front of it, trying to peek inside without touching it. Some of his shirts were hanging out of it, underwear and socks were just stuffed into the side pockets, this bag was a mess – Jimin wouldn’t even realize if you peeked inside of it. And if he did, what would he do about it? Determined, you kneeled down in front of it, slowly making your way through the bag to find any hints. Your hands met some bags of weed and some pills, but no Heroin or Coke, nothing. 

“May I help you, angel?" Jimin’s raspy voice caused you to jump so badly that you hit your toe on the bed. "Never thought you’d be like those girls, but now you’re even searching through my bag.” Whelping, you turned around and tried to look as innocent as possible. “Mine, I… Oh, whatever”, you were tired of explaining, tired of being worried and you were fucking angry. The rage was back and you were about to spew out everything you hated about him, but you decided to stay still, sit down in front of your desk, and try to ignore him. 

“Sure”, he sat down on his bed and looked at you. His eyes were tiny and red, he was high again. The sight of him made you almost tear up, so you quickly turned your head to look away. 

How could someone destroy himself without even realizing? 

“How’s things with Yoongi?” His voice sounded resigned and casual, why was he like this? He didn’t even notice how hurt you actually were. “Couldn’t be better, I’m happy”, you mumbled while grabbing a pencil and starting to draw. 

“I’m glad he’s at least a good fuck, couldn’t leave my girl unsatisfied, y’know. Oh and I almost forgot: he’s clean. Must be totally your type, clean nerdy guy, huh? Didn’t you tell me you hated all of those people when we first met? Now you’re one of them, angel.” Your finger cramped around the pencil, pressing it onto the paper, causing wild lines to appear on it, similar to your thoughts. 

“I remember it like it was yesterday when I fucked him. When he lost his virginity to me. Back in the days, I thought he was totally into girls”, he laughed his beautiful laugh, almost tempting you to give in, wouldn’t his words hurt you so much, “until I had my dick deep down his ass and he realized how nice of a fuck I am.” 

“Jimin, why-“ 

“Did you fuck already? Do you know what kind of sick games he likes to play in bed? Well, I would’ve never thought that of him, luckily we had enough trust into each other to try out anything. I hope same goes out to you, you tend to really easily trust people, I mean you even took part in an orgy, I mean… Wow. You shouldn’t have difficulties with him then”, he examines your appraising. 

You quickly grab your headphones, trying to get lost in your favorite Spotify-Playlist. A few moments passed in silence, just you and your music, while your drawing was about to be completed. 

You jumped out of your chair as your felt Jimin’s lips on your neck, his hands trembling your chest. An involuntarily growl left your throat, while your stomach began to tingle. “Fuck, Park”, you turned around to him, grabbing his by his throat and pressing him against the nearest wall. “What’s your fucking problem?” 

“Not having you, that it my problem. Losing you to Yoongi is killing me.” 

You snort, interrupting him. “Your fucking Heroin-addiction is what really kills you, you fucking bastard!” 

“And letting you leave, that’s my biggest problem. I will forever regret letting you go because I know I’ll never find someone that loves me like you did. Nobody that…” 

You interrupted him. This time to press your lips against his. Losing your grip on his throat to grab a fistful of hair, tugging him closer. Your other hand roams his bony chest underneath his shirt, making him breathe in sharply. 

“Fuck”, his words gave you goosebumps, but a clapping noise behind you causes you to step apart. Yoongi was standing right behind you. 

“Yoongi, I…” 

“It’s alright, Y/N. I know how good Jimin’s acting skills are, they got even better since I last met him.” Then your somehow-boyfriend’s fist bash against the-guy-you-still-kinda-love’s jaw – which left you kind of overwhelmed with the entire situation. 

You did what your instincts told you, you hadn’t had enough time to think through it, so you tried to catch Yoongi’s next fist – which of course hit you directly in the stomach. Coughing, your legs gave in and you sunk into the ground. “Fuck, Yoongi…”, your chest heavily rising, you glanced up at the dudes. Both pairs of eyes were watching you in fear, both prettier than the other. Even Jimin’s matte, stump eyes would never lose their beauty. The only difference between them was their expressions. 

Your current boyfriend seemed to be shocked, somehow even angry. 

The guy you still have feelings for watched you in admiration, full of respect and awe – something you haven’t seen in a long time. 

“What the fuck, Y/N? You’re defending him? This son of a bitch broke you, remember? You can be glad to be out of the thing you two had!” 

“Don’t listen to him, angel. You know we’re meant for each other. You love me as much as I love you, I can really stop doing drugs, I would do it for you. Cold Turkey, from now on.” 

“Oh, really? I feel like I’ve heard that before. And where are you now, hm? Eyes like pins, veins filled with poison. Do you really want Y/N to live that life? You’re destroying her just like you’re destroying yourself. If you really love her, you’ll leave her.” 

You were still laying on the ground, listening to every spoken word. Trying to process what was happening, watching each of their faces in fear. You waited for Jimin to answer, tears starting to form in your eyes. “Why don’t we leave the decision to our angel? It is her choice whom to love, if she really wants to love a fucked up junkie, you can’t change that. C’mere, angel.” Jimin pats his thigh, smiling at you lovingly, making your heart melt. 

“Y/N, you know what’s best for you. A world with a future in it, maybe smoking weed here and there, but not being addicted to all the toxic stuff”, now Yoongi’s hand was ready for you to grab – and you had to make a decision. You shook her head at both of them, grabbing your jacket instead and heading out of the room without choosing one of the guys – you had to think and you had to be alone for it. 

Once you came back, the room was empty as always. Sighing, you fell onto the bed, trying to find a comfy position and listen to the howling wind while drifting into a dreamless sleep. 

“Oh, fuck, angel, keep on going”, a raspy voice next to you opens your eyes but you soon realize it was Jimin, laying on his bed, eyes closed and lips parted. His chest was heavily rising while there was a prominent bulge visible in his shorts. “You look so fucking hot, kneeling in front of my cock, c’mon, take it”, his hand wanders down to his erection while you couldn’t help but watch. Was he really having a wet dream about you? It was pointless to ignore that you were soaking wet by now. Your last time having an actual orgasm was back when you were still together. It was just normal for you to be horny as fuck. 

As soon as Jimin’s hand was wrapped around his cock, you lightly caressed your folds, collecting all your juices and rubbing them over your clit. A quiet moan escaped your lips which made your press your free hand over your mouth. You were still watching him, copying his movements, panting louder than before. 

“Fuck, repeat that, angel. Fuck, yes.” Gasping, Jimin cums all over his own hand and his abs, while you couldn’t hold it back anymore and coming undone as well. You were still watching him, trying to catch your breath, but he was still asleep, even smiling a bit now. But you knew your night was over, so you stood up and decided to have a shower to really wake up and maybe get a free mind out of it. 

Even days later, you still couldn’t decide between Jimin and Yoongi, you even tried to avoid both of them. You saw Yoongi during your classes but didn’t respond to his longing glances. Jimin’s and your room kept quiet until midnight when Jimin decided to come home to sleep. Both were trying to catch your attention with loving gestures, you got flowers from Yoongi and each morning a lovely joint from Jimin. 

You knew you couldn’t avoid your decision much longer – neither to hurt your lovers nor hurt yourself. It strained your nerves to stand between two fronts. Sure, you liked Yoongi, he was nice and thoughtful, always listened to your problems and distracted you from Jimin, but he was kind of boring. Jimin on the other hand was the spirit that burnt your insides. You loved him and you knew that, but he was a dangerous person. But what was it you were looking for? Harmony and a daily routine or rather the charm of danger? Something that kept you alive but didn’t excite you or something that gave your life sense, but could end it decades earlier? 

You saw Jimin and Yoongi wherever you went, everyone in the smoker’s corner looked like Minie, your gym class was full of boys like Yoongi, wearing tight shirts that show off their biceps. But none of them were really like those two. And you were still lonely like you were before. But this time, you didn’t enjoy it at all. 

Days came and went by. Days where you wanted to be held, wanted affection but didn’t want to cheat on either of them. When you wanted to cuddle Yoongi, you would want to kiss Jimin. When you wanted to kiss Yoongi, you would want to make out with Jimin. When you wanted to make out with Yoongi, you wanted Jimin to fuck you. 

You compared your possibilities with them, a future would be easier with Yoongi, you could finish college and move in with him, marry him and have his children. You wouldn’t have this opportunity with Jimin, you didn’t even know if he’d be still alive after college. You wouldn’t be able to afford a house if he keeps taking drugs. 

Of course, you thought about making Jimin take part in a drug withdrawal. Cold Turkey. No medicine, just pure pain. He could do that for you. For your future. He promised you. He loved you. Yoongi wouldn’t take any risk for you, his life was perfect. He didn’t need anything to hold on to survive. Jimin did, in fact, need you. You were his anchor, his lifesaver. He needed you. And so you decided against Yoongi, for Jimin, for your future, for your love. 

Yoongi, 

I can’t talk to you face to face, that’s why I’m writing this letter for which you’re maybe going to hate me. But I’m promising you, I won’t let you suffer. I know, you might be right. I might regret my decision, but I had to make it. I think we both knew it from the beginning. All three of us knew. I’m sorry. It’s breaking my heart to tell you that I chose Minie. Can I even call it a decision if both ways break my heart? 

Yoongi, I’ve never had so much fun before, you made the last weeks such a pleasure for me. I think you brought up feelings I’ve never felt. Maybe even love. But nevertheless, Jimin needs me. I know you’ll find someone else quickly, you’re such an amazing person. Your future girl won’t destroy you like I would’ve, you’ll have the perfect future together which I may not even have. You’ll be happy, Yoongi. 

Don’t cry after me, don’t be sad, you’ve earned someone better. Don’t think I didn’t love you, somewhere deep

inside me is a spot just for you. But it’s too small to change anything. 

Do something with your life. For me. For yourself.   

You didn’t even give Yoongi the letter yourself. You were way too scared of him changing your mind. But after you knew he received it, he never talked to you again. You waited on top of her bed, drawing and listening to music until the door opened. You got quite anxious while Jimin walked into the room and let himself fall into his own bed, not giving you any attention. 

“Hey.” 

You didn’t know what else to say, but he didn’t mind to answer anyways. 

“How are you? Don’t you wanna come back to our classes?” Damn, what kind of bullshit were you actually talking about? “Okay, mom.” Stubborn and dismissive like always. “Call me mom once again and I won’t be able to hold myself back, baby”, you tried to loosen up the mood, but he didn’t even laugh. 

“Okay, sorry”, then he stood up and walked out of the room, leaving you alone and you were already close to giving him up again. 

One night, Jimin came back quite early and didn’t seem to be as high as he used to be. Without hesitating, you tried to take her chance, slipping under his blanket and hugged his body. “I chose you, you know that, right?“ He didn’t look at you, but didn’t remove your arms either. “Jimin, I told Yoongi that I love you. I want to be there for you, want to be your anchor.” Jimin just snorts. 

“Can you just shut up, Y/L/N? I’m so tired of your crying. I know you chose me, but you did because you felt guilty. Do you understand that I don’t need your help? God, just go to Yoongi and live the life you want, I don’t even have a future, I’m letting myself live for another year then I’m gonna die anyway.” You were about to say something, but he just shakes his head,

“Just let it be, angel. I’m fine, really.” 

Their door opened and you automatically skid, turning your head to the new arrival in the door frame. You thought it was Yoongi but you couldn’t remember that face at all. 

“Y/N, that’s Taehyung, but everyone calls him Tae. Hey, Babe”, he stands up and walks over to Tae, kissing him in front of you. 

You were either going to cry or to vomit, but smiled for them. “I’m glad you found someone and completed our relationship. Good luck you two”, you clap Jimin’s shoulder before heading out, leaving the campus and walking straight into some corner of the city you came to every single day a few weeks ago. You bought some of the pills you used to take and swallow a few of them on your way home. 

Your eyes were already closing as you come back into your room, so you just let yourself fall under your blankets without even taking your pants off. You didn’t care about them. But what you actually did care about were those noises coming from Jimin’s bed. You turn your head once again, just to see Jimin and Taehyung. Tae on top of him, his tattooed arms next to Jimin’s head, a thin layer of sweat on both of their foreheads. “Fuck, Jimin”, Taehyung moans. Jimin didn’t respond, his mouth hung open and his eyes were closed. They didn’t even realize they weren’t alone anymore. You, on the other hand, decided not to disturb them, swallowing two more pills before dozing off into a deep sleep. 

PART 07 x SO FAR AWAY

“Fuck, babe, keep on going”, muscular arms were wrapped around your waist while you move your hips in a steady rhythm. Deep growls and moans leave the mouth underneath yours, sweat dripping from your forehead on his chest while his nails were dragging lines across your body. 

Soon enough you collapsed on top of him while gasping for air. You laid your head on his muscular chest, long fingers were brushing through your hair. Moments later, you were under the shower to wash off the typical sex smell, just to head back to class, to sit next to Jimin, to ignore him and to keep on flirting with his affairs best friend. You really gave up on Jimin, were living your own life and share your bed with Jeongguk. He was currently winking in your direction while biting his lip to hide a smile. Laughing, you shake your head and flip him off, making Jimin groan in annoyance. 

“Jealous?”, you smile. “Dream on, I’ve got the hotter friend.” 

Even though you weren’t really a couple, Jeongguk and you spent most of your free time together. You couldn’t help it, once he opened his mouth you were lost in his accent. Jeongguk and Taehyung were from Busan, their moms sent them to this college because they had a similar past to Jimin's. Even if you weren't spending time with him, you were ongoing high. 

Jeongguk had the best connections to get the best drugs in here, Dope, Weed and even Shore. You were easily happy with trips and weed, but Jimin didn’t seem to mind Tae's stash of opiates. He changed, resembling a corpse more and more each day. Pale, skinny and no expression left in his eyes. You were slowly starting to regret breaking up with Yoongi for him because the only feeling you had left for Jimin was hate. 

Back in your room you saw Jimin and Taehyung with a rolled banknote in their hands and blood dripping noses. You just snort while sitting down at your desk to study, trying to get done with everything as fast as possible to get out of this hell, to move away from the person that destroyed you. Away from Park Jimin.

“C’mon, don’t act that dumb! It’s just maths, how can you not understand anything from that? I even understand that stoned!” Taehyung shakes his head while fanning the math book in front of your face. Jeongguk sits next to him and rolls his eyes. “Not everyone can be a math pro like you, brother. Be patient with my girl or I’m telling your mom that you’re on H again”, Jeongguk smiles at his friend whose face got directly softer.

 “Sorry, Kookie. Okay, again. What haven’t you understood so far, Y/N? Do you know how to get to the scalar product?” You nod while thinking about this awkward situation. Tae was trying to help you with your math problem, while his best friend was sitting next to you, sometimes stealing a kiss from you. Jeongguk made you ask Taehyung to tutor you, just to spend more time with him and to get to know him better. Even though you'd prefer Jeongguk teaching you, Taehyung wasn’t too bad. If he wouldn’t be with Jimin, you could maybe even like him.

“Good luck, Y/N. It’s gonna be the last exam, after that we’re getting wasted!” 

4 ½ hours later you were sitting at the lakeside, beer in your hands and smiles on your faces. “Fuck, we made it”, Jeongguk laughs while taking a deep sip. “Not yet, babe. Exams, yes. Results, no. But for now, that’s it, you’re right”, he kissed your cheek while emptying his bottle. “Thank you too, Tae. I thought I had to hate you ‘cause of Jimin, but you really helped me. If I didn’t have Jeongguk, I’d maybe hook up with you”, you laughed while checking him out. 

Taehyung smirks. “Don’t worry about Jimin, he doesn’t give a fuck about relationships. We’re just fucking, but I wouldn’t want to love him.” 

You raise your eyebrow, almost feeling like you had to defend Jimin. But right at that moment, he was weaving in your direction and letting himself fall next to Taehyung who rolls his eyes and smirks at you before pressing his lips onto Jimin's. 

“I can’t wait to finally be away from you! For fuck’s sake. I won’t need to share my fucking room with you disgusting bitch!” Wildly gesticulating, Jimin screams the wildest names at you. The reason for your argument was obvious: drugs. 

Jimin doesn’t smoke weed or swallows trip after trip anymore, but he’s snorting Coke like there’s no tomorrow – more and more gravitating to take Meth and Heroin. 

You came fresh out of the shower, a towel wrapped around your body, hair dripping onto the floor, when you saw Jimin sitting on his bed – with a Crack-pipe in his left hand, a lighter in his right. The window was opened as if he would want the toxic gases to leave the room. Unnecessary, of course. 

The entire room smelt like Jimin, his attacks of sweating and the drugs he took. Even the curtains smellled like weed. 

“Crack, are you fucking serious? You dumb idiot, you know how addicting that is?” In moments like that, you get all moral and sit down next to him. “Minie, please. Even if you hate me that much – you still mean the world to me. I love you and I can’t keep on watching you destroy yourself.” 

Jimin, on the other hand, gets angry all the time about this topic. “I mean something to you? I overheard you and Tae, that you would hook up with him if you haven’t had Jeon. The fuck? Just shut up, Y/N.”  

“I was drunk, that’s it. He tutored me – I would’ve never said something like that if I was sober. I mean, I’ve got Jeongguk – the hotter one. Besides that; why are you with Tae? Because you love him? Because you want to build a future with him? Boy, you’re into his drugs, that’s it. You won’t have a future, half a year from now at the latest you’ll be dead. The drug-cocktail you’re enjoying too much will eat you alive. Don’t you smell yourself? Don’t you look at yourself? How much weight have you lost since we broke up? 20 pounds? 40? You’re nothing but a skeleton that smells rotten. Your hair is matted, your cheeks hollowed. Can I be honest, Jimin? I’m glad it’s over. I’m glad we don’t talk anymore and that I didn’t fall down the rabbit hole. And I truly hope that we’re never going to see each other after that”, by now, you were in full rage mode, throwing the pipe out of his hand and screaming a “And I won’t come to your fucking funeral!” at him before grabbing your headphones to watch some Netflix in bed. You open another window to not breathe in his drug-fumes. 

About half an episode of The Vampire Diaries later, someone ripped the headphones out of your ears and she was thrown onto her back, Jimin laying on top of you, his eyes almost glowing from anger. “Do you really think you can talk to me like that? You were nothing to me besides a lapdog to have fun with. And even if I look that destroyed, that rotten, you still think I’m attractive. You would take every chance to fuck me again, just to bring back the ‘good old times’. Angel, you chose Jeon just because I found someone else”, his knee finds its way between your legs while you moan in protest, making Jimin smirk. “You’re missing the danger in your life, Jeon is a nobody, he can’t give you adrenaline, he can’t give you action or passion.” 

His stubbly chin strokes your neck, your hands automatically balling into fists, but you don't fight him. Don't tell him to stop. His rough hands find their way under your shirt, caressing your ribs and giving you goosebumps. Soon enough, the shirt was laying on the floor, followed by your leggings. Jimin's lips follow the softness of your stomach while you were still laying underneath him, turned on but scared at the same time. 

“Jimin, that’s doing nothing to me. I’m not turned on, I despise you”, you move and try to get away from him, but he was still stronger than you. 

One of his large hands finds your wrists and pins them above your head. The other one was stroking your cheeks, your neck, and your breasts, down to your thong before pulling it down. He grins, seeing your wetness trickling down in between your thighs, your smell making him go wild. Once he sticks out his tongue to teasingly lick soft stripes up your aching core, your self-control was gone. You grab his hair to shove him towards your cunt, drowning him in your juices and making him drink up whatever leaves your body. Jimin didn’t seem to care, his free hand was tight around his cock, rubbing and stroking himself while bringing you closer to an end.  Once you came, you pushed him off and put your clothes back on, not caring about him or his orgasm at all before leaving the room without looking back. 

You didn’t even care about what had happened, but you didn’t tell Jeongguk either. For being his lapdog, Jimin got turned on really quick once he had his tongue on your pussy. Stupid idiot. But the only thing you thought about was revenge – and you already knew how to get it. 

Jimin hasn’t been in your room the next couple days and you've had enough time to go through his belongings, lay down on his bed and smoke his weed – that he ‘didn’t smoke anymore’. There were about five bags filled with beautiful flowers in his nightstand and you didn’t hesitate to grind and smoke them in Jimin's pipe. It has to be the stuff that Jai had brought him. It didn’t take lots of drags to feel the calming sensation and the puffiness of your eyes. You laughed while letting yourself fall back on his bed and to cuddle his pillow, still smelling like Jimin. 

You began to think about everything, about your feelings for Jimin, for Jeongguk and you even thought about Yoongi a couple of times. Then you thought about why you hated Jimin so much. 

You had admired him for so long, you would’ve died for him if he had asked. 

But now? 

Anger, Fear, and Anxiety. The fear of him replacing you with drugs. Or the fear of him dying without any chance of saying goodbye. The fear of being alone even though you were the one to break up with him. But he didn’t seem to care, he was alright, maybe even better than when he was with you. But you know that neither of you could ever feel complete without the other one. 

You gave up so much for Jimin, but he never cared. Your grades got worse, you broke up with Yoongi and you were consistently lying to your parents about everything. 

But what did you get from it? 

You were still alone, Jimin was fucking Taehyung and you were worrying about his death every single day because you were still in love with him. And even if you couldn’t convince him to go to therapy, you’d want to spend his last time together with him. 

God damn, you know he loves you as well. Tears were running down your cheeks, droplets falling onto his pillow and you realize the down of the high has arrived. Desperate for more, you were searching through his drawer for something more, something that could lift you up again. Maybe to find something that would lift you up on the same level with Jimin. Then you’d be reunited again. It would be only you. Not even Taehyung could keep up with them.

You peer over to his pipe, still laying on the nightstand and the Ice that was still in his drawer. Somehow, you knew it was the only opportunity to get to him. 

Your hands were shaking as you opened the small bag and placing some of the clear crystals onto the pipe that you didn’t even bother to clean. Weed and Ice have to work together. You take a small drag before exhaling frantically, the fear somewhat still in your mind. 

“Don’t be a wimp”, you scold yourself before placing the pipe back between your lips and holding the flame of the lighter against the Ice. It felt like the fumes got right into your bloodstream and your head felt like a rollercoaster. You smirked, followed by a loud laughter before repeating the process once more. You feel the adrenalin and hope for Jimin to come back sooner, to get high with you, to love you, to admire you. 

You know that your relationship just got onto a whole new level and there wouldn’t be anything that could separate you from now on. 

Your love was devastating, you would die for each other. You were almost angry that Jimin wouldn’t want to share that amazing experience with you, so you inhale once more, trying to get the double amount of fun. Mischievously grinning, you put everything back onto its original place before opening the window and watching the birds outside. God damn, life was good. 

PART 08 x MAKE IT RIGHT

Jimin felt like he was captured in this room. 

He couldn’t live with his angel without feeling like someone ripped his heart apart. 

You think he wouldn’t be able to think straight; that his brain was destroyed by all the drugs he took. But Jimin knows better. Since he took all the drugs, he had a clear mind, no demons in his head that were trying to interrupt his thoughts. He didn’t believe you talking about him being the love of your life – he knows everyone hates him. 

You were clean, you did it. 

You broke free. And now you see him like every clean person sees junkies. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what he looked like. The thing is, he wasn’t hungry anymore and he didn’t want to waste time just to eat. He showered every single day, maybe even twice, but he was sweating pure venom, pure drug-smell coming straight from his pores. He smelt just like the other junkies. 

You thought Crystal would be the dead-end, but Jimin was way deep down the hole. He took Heroin, not smoking it but shooting it straight into his veins. IV. Death in a needle. 

There are plenty of human beings that consume Heroin their entire life without you being able to recognize that, Jimin thought he was one of them. He shot H for about 2 years now, he had days where he didn’t need any – when he was with his angel -, but most of the time, he shot once or twice a day. 

Of course, he lied to you. Sure, he could go for a Cold Turkey just to be with you, but to be honest: Who would quit Heroin as long as there’s good stuff out there and there’s enough money to buy it? 

He would never. 

Not even for you. 

Not for billions on his bank account. 

He didn’t want to fight you. He wants to keep on loving you, but he couldn’t fight for you. Maybe you could accept him that way, accept his drug use and his lies. 

One night, Jimin came home late again, he decided to apologize, trying to get you all soft for him again. But when he came through the door, his “Listen, princess” kept sticking in his throat. The smell of weed lingers in the air, mixed with something else. His angel was laying on his bed, smiling like an idiot, watching youTube-videos until you looked up at him. “Minie, babe!” You jump off the bed, but Jimin pushes you back. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Please tell me you’re kidding me. First of all, you stole from me. Second, you’re taking my drugs. Third, WHY are you even doing that? I thought you were clean. Did you lie to me the entire time?” – Just like he lied to her, nice try, Jimin. 

“Why are you so angry, Minie? C’mon here and I’ll let you fuck me really good – I can even play with your ass like Tae did if you’re into that. I won’t judge you, you know that.” 

Jimin wanted to rip his hair out, but that wouldn’t change anything. His precious angel smoked Ice and wouldn’t quit doing that so soon. 

“Listen, angel, babe. Why did you take this away from me? You wanted me to stop taking drugs, but you’re lying here totally high? That’s not what we wanted, precious.” He holds your beautiful face in his large shaky hands, looking you straight into the eyes. But your eyes weren’t the same anymore, the color was dull, no shine in it and hooded.

 Jimin couldn’t find the girl he loved in there. 

"I came to say sorry. I’m not good for you, angel. It’s best for me to leave college and leave you behind me as well. Like you said, I maybe have a few months left before dying. Don’t waste your feelings on me.” 

He kisses your cheek ever so softly before standing up. “I’m sleeping somewhere else, getting my stuff tomorrow and then your life will be Junkie-free. I’m so fucking sorry, angel, believe me. It’s better for both of us to finally end this toxic relationship. You deserve a normal life without me. It probably will never be like it was before, but you can change yours. Please, promise me one thing: stop taking drugs, angel. You’ll find your dream guy, having a family and anything I couldn’t offer you. Fuck, I can’t apologize enough. I love you, okay? Even if I made you go through all of this, believe me. Nothing was harder than letting you go, even if it’s the hundredth time by now. This time I’m keeping my promise. Goodbye, angel.” 

He quickly runs out of the door without turning around, he knows you were crying. He knows you would be screaming after him, but you wouldn’t run after him. You were paralyzed and will realize what really happened by tomorrow. You will hate him, but that’s for the best. Hate. Disappointment. Anger. But Jimin knew he wasn’t as egoistic as you'd be thinking. You were his life, he’d kill for you. But he’d do the same for Heroin. 

Everything. 

Even selling his body. 

And now that he had no home left, he knew what would come next. Streetlife. Begging. Prostitution. 

PART 09 X YOUNG FOREVER

His words were stuck in your head while you watched him leave your shared – now only your – room. Nothing had changed, he still didn’t want you. But you can’t run after him, so you lay back instead and close your eyes without losing a single tear. Your thoughts were still obscure and your body paralyzed, you can’t even feel you loss but fall into a deep slumber. 

“Y/N, wake up! Where is he? What did you do to him?”, you wake up and open your eyes hectically just to see Taehyung in front of you. His hands were on your shoulders and he shook you the entire time. “Fuck, Tae, who are you talking about?”, you get rid of his grip to stretch your body while yawning. Why did he even have to wake you that early on a Saturday? “Hm, who could be away? Jimin, of course! You dumbass, he wasn’t at our usual spot, there was just this fucking note!” He throws some pretty rough looking yellow paper at you. 

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I’m leaving ‘cause it’s the best for Y/N. Take care of her. Please. I’ll see you when you’re dead – hopefully, later than me. J"

Stunned, you kept reading and reading Jimin's messy handwriting until the words were burnt into your eyes. “He’s gone?” Tears form in your eyes while your hands start to shake. “Tae, tell me he’s not gone!” Your voice gets louder, the paper falls down. 

“Tae, goddamn it, say something!“ But Taehyung remains quiet, balling his hands to fists while clenching his jawline. “It’s your fault you fucking slut. What did you do to him once again? Can’t you just stay out of his life? Who knows what he’s doing to himself now?!“ The veins on his neck are popping out as he began to yell, but his words didn’t hurt you. Your thoughts were filled with Jimin. He left you just like you left him a couple of times. It hurts. 

“What could he do to himself, he’s swallowing more pills, smokes more weed and Crack, what else?” You acted ice-cold, trying not to cry anymore. 

“Sure, I forgot we were talking about Jimin, the guy that never takes drugs that’s why his life is so perfect. Y/N, what are you even talking about? Jimin stopped taking pills months ago, he’s shooting Heroin for around 2 years now. Are you listening? Heroin. The stuff that killed thousands of people, you idiot. If he doesn’t want to live anymore, he might just shoot some more H than usual. The golden shot.” You listen to Taehyung, but you break out in a loud burst of laughter as soon as he stops talking. 

“Sure, Heroin. I know him, I know how much he hates it! He promised me he’ll never take it.” 

Taehyung snorts while sitting next to you, head in his hands. “Y/N, I know lots of addicts, there ain’t love or promises as soon as you’re down there. The only love they feel is for H. The thing that kills them. But you’re only in second place. Sorry, but if we don’t look after him as fast as possible, he’ll be gone. You were his only anchor that saved him from drowning. But you made him leave and he’ll never come back on his own.” 

Taehyung was right, Jimin was gone. And you? You were shocked, angry and… sad. Because even though he promised you he loved you, it was fake. He spent your entire relationship on one of the hardest drugs, were you that dumb to not realize anything? 

“Hey, we’ll find him, okay? Let me grab my stuff and we’ll head out to look for him”, Taehyung wraps one arm around you and you and pulls you against his chest. Soon enough both of you were breaking out into sobs - and you kept crying the entire time Taehyung went into his room to put on his jacket and some shoes.

You cried while looking through Jimin's belongings, he left anything in your room; weed, pills and those fine crystals. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them, fully concentrated on the Ice that was lying in front of you. Soon enough, not even 3 minutes later, you were high again, not shedding a single tear, not even knowing why you've been sad in the first place. Until Taehyung came into your room, shaking his head in disappointment and dragging you along their journey to find Jimin. 

The city was almost empty, nobody was walking around, and the clouds hung low in the sky, ready to let a storm out. “I don’t know where else to look for him, Tae. I’m getting tired”, Your mood was on its lowest while you kicked empty bottles of beer around. 

Taehyung shrugs. “Last step: the train station. But when he’s really there, we won’t have a chance to get him back.” 

You didn’t know why a normal station could be that bad, you just follow him through the thick gates of the main station. You hide your nose under your shirt as soon as the smell of piss, trash and vomit hits your senses. You made your way through the floors without talking, the amount of trash and empty cans highly rising. 

“Tae, I don’t think he’s gonna be..”, but Taehyung interrupts you with a quick hand movement. 

There, between all of those homeless people was Jimin. 

His head resting against the wall, eyes half-closed. 

“C’mon”, Taehyung holds her arm while walking straight up to them. “Jimin, move your ass and stand up.” 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Fuck off!” 

“Fucking rich kids...” 

The crosstalk begins, but Jimin remains quiet. He looks at you, but he doesn’t make a move to stand up. His eyes were sad, but his countenance stays emotionless. 

“I told you, go away. Leave me alone”, he ignores Taehyung but looks at you. 

“Minie, please..”, your voice breaks. 

“Aww, Jimin, did you find yourself a girlfriend? Cute. What do you take, honey? Ready for a tin?” Some guy with a black Mohican holds up a coke can. 

“Jin, no.” 

Jimin tries to take the can away from him, but his strength was all gone. “I’m…” 

“We don’t need anything, thanks.” Once again, it was Taehyung who talked for both of you. “They’re clean, you don’t need to waste your stuff on them”, Jimin's voice was weak. 

“Cute. Didn’t know you were friends with that kind of people. C’mon, hun”, Jin holds the can in your direction and you take it, confusion displayed on your face. Not knowing what to do, you look at the tiny hole in it. Watching the smoke coming through that hole, Jin pressures you. 

“C’mon”, he holds his lighter under the can to heat up whatever was inside of it. You look over to Jimin while trying to keep your tears hidden before taking a hit. Taehyung pulls you against himself, Jimin jumps up, but it’s too late. Your body was exploding as if a firework was lit inside you. Each and every nerve was reacting to this substance before you collapse into Taehyung’s arms. Jimin screams in anger. “Y/N!” Then he falls onto his knees. “You’re so stupid, I told you hundreds of times, now you’re into it too.” 

You didn’t know what he was talking about until you woke up hours later, the burning need in your veins permanent. You must’ve fallen asleep, now laying here, your head in Jimin’s lap. You didn’t know the place you were at, it couldn’t be the train station, but everyone from there was here as well. Now all of those train station kids were sitting here - well, and you -  it looks like it was some kind of old factory, and once again the coke can was going around. You sit up, pressing a soft kiss to Jimin's lips before grabbing the can once again. Some girl with ripped leggings just laughs. 

“Look at her. When you want some of your stuff, you need to pay for it, alright? We just share for money.“ 

Jimin's calming hands on your back were gone and he pulls you up with him. “Listen to me, angel. I hope you know what you did? I can’t insult you or blame you for anything because it’s all my fault, but run as long as you can. Heroin is no fun. Look at those Junk Boys and -girls. We’re all fucked – you’re not. You may want to take it but you don’t need to yet. Please, angel”, he looks at you, pleading and ready to do whatever it takes him to stop you, but you just shake your head, throwing a 20 Dollar-Bill on the floor and take the hit that lets you experience your second real high. 

Then, you kiss Jimin once again. 

“We’re in this together, babe. I love you. And even if you die, then we’ll both die. But let’s enjoy the time before that“, with that, the entire group explodes in applause and laughter, but you didn’t even realize that because you were already fast asleep in Jimin's arms. 

PART 10 X BADBYE

“Is there really no money left? Damn it, I need a shot. Now. Jimin!” 

You kick Jimin, but he was still high, just got done with his shot while you were waiting for yours. Usually, he was the one that gave you the shot because you couldn’t do it on your own. 

“FUCK!” 

You take the remaining Heroin off the foil, snorting whatever was left on there to get at least a tiny high. Unluckily, it wasn’t enough. It was like always. Jimin got the money, Jimin got most of the Heroin. You were dependent on him, have to wait until he allows you to take some of his drugs. “

If you don’t wake up I have to go get my own stuff.” But your threat didn’t do anything. Jimin was still blacked out on the floor. You were annoyed as you put on some clothes, and left the place you were currently living in. You walk down the streets without any destination. 

You didn’t know where Jimin was buying the stuff, neither did you know how he paid for it. Yoongi, Taehyung, Jeongguk – neither of them wanted to stay in contact as soon as they knew what was going on. Everyone was okay with smoking weed, but nobody was fine with shooting H. 

You play around with the contacts on your phone before calling one number, the number you thought you’d never call again. It rings three times before a loving voice answered. 

“Y/N, my precious child! You didn’t talk to us for so long, how are you? Dad and I were so worried! College called and told us you were gone? What are you doing? Where are you? Who’s with you?” 

You shrug, laughing it off. “Hi, mom.“ 

That evening, you're coming home with empty pockets, but with two online-train tickets back home to visit your family. “Baby, we’re going home! My mom wants us to live with them, they have enough money and we don’t need to look for another flat! I can show you around my hometown!“ 

You were on fire, packing all your belongings while Jimin slowly wakes up. “Did you think about that, angel? Your mother will realize how fucked up we are. What are you going to tell her? Everyone knows what a Junkie looks like. It won’t work.” 

“I don’t care if you’re coming with me or not. I’m going. I don’t need to worry about money for Heroin while you’re out there doing whatever. I need as much as you do, it’s not enough for me to snort whatever’s left since I started shooting as well!” 

“I’m not doing whatever, I’m fucking prostituting myself! I can’t go away from my customers, okay?” He looks down at the floor, not daring to look at you. Did he really just say that he sells his body? That he’s fucking someone else just to earn money? 

“You’re a hooker? Are you serious? You’re cheating on me to earn money? Wow, Jimin. That’s how much I mean to you? You’re letting some strangers fuck your ass? That’s why you don’t want to fuck me anymore? I guess you’re having enough orgasms throughout the day, huh? Well, you know what? Fuck you, Park.” Once again, your heart shattered in thousands of pieces while you run away once more, leaving him alone once more. Crying once more. 

It must’ve been ages since you saw Jimin the last time. You weren't counting in days but in shots. 

Your mother didn’t seem to notice anything about your addiction, she just thinks you're going through a rough break up. Of course, you were thinking about him, every fucking day. But it was never a positive thought. 

You always thought about your life without him. Your fist swings against the wall once again, you tend to do that a lot. Some bloodstains were already on it, but you didn’t care. You got nervous again, pulling your drawer open just to realize that there’s nothing in it. Just a last tiny piece of foil, nothing more. 

“Mom, you there?” You scream and leave your room without even looking into the mirror. She wasn’t there, like always. Her bag was with her and her wallet as well. They hadn’t had any money left in their house – why would they? Your mom paid anything with her credit card. You ramble through the rooms, searching for anything you could sell, but there was literally nothing. 

Without any money in your pockets you walk through the train station, searching for any ‘friend’ that owes you Heroin. None of them had some and you got on turkey rather quickly. You were shaking, crying and sweating. 

Soon enough, you realized there was one last thing left. The thing that broke your relationship. The thing that was the most disgusting thing to do. The thing you thought you’d never do. 

You had never thought about selling your body just to destroy it. 

You had never thought about letting someone else besides Jimin fucking you just for money. 

You had never thought that you wouldn’t find it as bad as you probably should. 

It was a fast way to make money. And you needed it fast. 

It was the twelfth day in a row that you were standing here to earn some extra coins. You almost felt like a celebrity on the streets, you could decide who to fuck and who to leave. There are many people here, some around your age, some older and some stone old guys. It’s not like you needed to go on the streets every day, you had enough money by now that you could easily go out there every third day, but it was fun and games for you. You were in a flow, didn’t want to stop, just seeing the dollar signs in each customer. 

The amount of Heroin in your room was enormous, you couldn’t even shoot that much without falling into a coma-state but you collected it for bad times. But this day you were really glad you decided to come here, you wouldn’t know about him otherways. He was here. And he was suffering. 

You were just finishing up with your third customer that day when you saw him. His shaking body leaning against a wall, trying to look cool, but you knew how he really felt. He was suffering. You knew, if you'd ever see him like that, all your feelings would be there again. And here you were, trying to help him one again. 

He didn’t even look at you, but you knew he had to feel you coming. 

Once you were right in front of him, you were about to vomit just from his smell. But you couldn’t help it and hugged him. “Minie”, you mumbled against his skinny chest. Neither of you was moving. 

“Go away, Y/N.” But you couldn’t. 

“C’mon, Minie. I’ve got some.”  

You drag him with you, preparing your needle and cooking up some H for the both of you. “I don’t need your help, Y/N.” 

“I can see that.” 

You grab his arm and shoot the H directly into his veins, not allowing him to do it himself with those shaky hands. You took him home with you, explaining to your mother how sick he was and that he couldn’t go back into his own flat because he’s got a fever and needed someone to take care of him. 

“You’re such an angel, Y/N!” was all she said. 

It was the day, you used to call Day X. The day that changed everything. Your mother knew about your addiction by now, wanting to send you to therapy but you were over 18 – she couldn’t decide for you. Mother and daughter were heavily arguing in the living room while Jimin was in the middle of preparing his shot. You couldn’t stop thinking about the white powder, you were about to get on Turkey and easy to provoke by now. 

“Fuck off, mom.” You ran into your room, locking the door behind you and walking over to Jimin. 

“Hurry, Minie. Can’t wait anymore.” 

Of course, Jimin wasn’t able to help you once he shot the poison through his veins. “Fucking bastard” was all you mumbled before preparing everything yourself, before falling asleep in his lap. 

You didn’t know that you were going to be the only one waking up. 

Jimin shot way too much, you should’ve known. Sometimes you used to shoot so much that you were near to your limit, but survived it every time. It was the best feeling someone could reach, and you thought that was what Jimin needed back then. 

But he got colder and colder every minute. He didn’t wake up, not even through you shaking his body. 

That was the moment you realized his weird behavior. His lovely side the last few days, he was always cuddling and prepping you with kisses. He even bought you a ring.

You began to scream your soul out. You kissed his body and his cold lips. Tears were streaming down your face while you searched everything you needed and laid it down in front of you. The needle in one hand, Jimin's hand in the other. You laid down on his chest, cuddling into his pale body, trying to ignore the cold feeling. It was a routine by now, preparing everything for your last shot ever. 

You pull up the liquid into your needle, kissing Jimin one last time. It was the moment for your shot; the one that will bring you back to Jimin, into a peaceful world. 

As soon as the venom reached your veins and insides, you couldn’t help but smile while you intertwined your fingers and close your eyes forever in this painful life.

[thescannerdarkly]

you can tell who’s homeless by looking at their feet: my past 48 hours after a bottle of whiskey

it's three am and i'm tired but i can't sleep because of the shaking, so i'm going to stand in the bathroom and smoke a cigarette out the window. listening to the superbestfriendcast, texting a friend, experiencing that rare moment of feeling like your life is under control, like you can make a change. feeling pretty okay. then she knocks and she comes in. and she's yelling about you smoking. and she's yelling about you being up all night long, yelling about you not sleeping like a normal person. she's yelling at me and i've dropped the smoke and i've dropped the phone and i'm yelling back. and suddenly fuck it, i don't need any of this shit. i mean, here i am, trying to get my shit together, trying to get myself back into a happy person, back into a person i can be good in, and she's fucking yelling at me for having a goddamn cigarette. i don't fucking need her, i don't fucking need any of this. grab my immediate shit and get the fuck out, streetwalker mode, only thing i'm taking is my cigarettes and my music player, a little personal time with me, john darnielle, and the asphalt. get out twenty feet from the door, stop, and turn back around. walk back in, because i know that i'm better than that. because i know that i can face up to my own mistakes, because i know that i can make these things work. i don't need to run from this shit, because i've handled this shit before, and i can handle it again, and i can make this work, because i really do want my life to get back to normal, to get back to being less shit. we sit outside and talk. we sit outside and i tell her, these days it feels like i can't change anything. these days it feels like i can't get anything done. shit job, shit friends, shit personal life. tell her it feels like i can't even change things with her. but also tell her, i live for the little things. tell her i look forward to my friends, to my hobbies, to my job, tell her i look forward to changing this stuff in the future. tell her that i can make a change, that i just need to find something to fill my time with, that i just need something i can put all my life into. and she's nodding, she's talking back, she's smiling, she brings the dog outside so i can pet it, everything's going to be alright. and then the cruisers show up, the officers with their flashlights. i look at her and i say, what the fuck is this? are you fucking serious? and she just looks down at her feet. ask the officer, can i at least have a cigarette while i wait? yeah, he says, just move your hands slowly. tells me about how he went up north when he turned eighteen, about how he got a job whitewater rafting, got out and found a bit of himself in the wild. i tell him how i'm trying to find a bit of myself in my music, how i'm trying to find a bit of myself in art, how i'm trying to find a bit of myself outside a bottle so i can exist without the monkey on my back. he nods and he talks and he lets me smoke, so right now he's my best friend. the pat-down, and they take away my smokes. they put me in the back of the car, tell me i'm being baker acted, due to some alarming things i said. i say, i'm sick of this shit, just take me away so i can get this over with. cruising down the street, five'o'clock in the morning, early risers commuting to work, me looking at all this shit through the bars in the back. shaking, shivering, tired, half-dead, wishing for a smoke but they told me they don't allow smokes in the ward. out past the airport, they have the strip churches, all those evangelicals selling a shot into heaven; and past that, they have the beauty salons and the strip clubs, promising a little bit of heaven on earth; and past that, they've got the MHC, they've got central processing, they've got bond sellers, they've got a little bit of hell. in through the back in the new sunlight and they're telling me that it's all going to be all right; fuck, i know it's going to be alright, i just want to go home, but of course i can't say that to the nurses, they're just doing their job. three hours. the freshly raped bipolarette sobbing in the chair next to me, screaming, you're ruining my life, i have to see my children. the nurses laughing about it in the room over, mocking her. the guy in the long jeans with the blanket over his head, junkie brewster DT'ing, shaking on the cot in the corner. three hours before they get my fucking information down, tell me i'm going to talk to somebody to get me out of here, and don't you want something to eat. no, i say, it's too much effort just to throw it up, but i just tell them i'm not hungry, i'm not in the mood, i just ate. shaking in the lobby, last seat in a row of crazies, wrapped up in blankets watching the thirtieth re-run of Full House on the TV. talk to the insurance lady, talk to the nurse, talk to the counselor, sit outside and wait. get up and check the board, walk back, sit down, get up and check the board, walk back, sit down. a change. underneath dispo, next to daniel p, it says, AES. fuck, that's new, what the hell does it mean? flag down a passing nurse, ask him, hey man, what does AES mean? he has no idea, of course not. flag down the motherfucker who made the decision, hey man, what does AES mean? he turns to me and says, you're admitted, and walks away. shaking. sobbing. crying. snot dripping from my nose, head between my knees, arms wrapped around myself, screaming to myself, no, no no. saying, i need to go, i want to go, i can't go. i can't leave. somebody lied about me, so i need to stay here, and i can't shit without permission, i can't sleep without permission, i need somebody to come in and wipe my fucking ass, i can't leave. i can't go. and i'm sobbing and i'm fucking wondering, why? why? why? i haven't seen a doctor, i want to see a doctor. tell one of the nurses, i want to see the doctor. she says, if you want to see a doctor, you have to sign this. i say, what does this do? she says, it allows us to release your medical information to her. well, alright then, if it lets me see a doctor, if it lets me explain that i don't want to fucking kill myself, if it lets me get out of this place. i sign it, i go outside, i sit, i wait. three hours go by. no doctor. and the shakes are getting worse and i'm barely hanging on and my head hurts and there's nothing to eat. smoke break. no smokes. we go outside, nobody has any smokes, not junkie brewster, not David who keeps calling me Ty and asking if I got his daughter anything nice, not the bipolarette, not the chubby hispanic teen who tried to kill her boyfriend, nobody has any smokes. we sit in the fenced-off corner of a tiny yard and we wait. and then we go back inside. go to the board. now it says West, instead of F2F. i ask a nurse, what does West mean? she says it means the west ward. i ask, why didn't i see a doctor? i was told i'd see a doctor? she says, the doctor looked at your baker act, and decided to admit you. i say, she didn't even see me? she couldn't take five minutes out of her fucking day of getting paid too much fucking money to sit on her fat ass and drink coffee and sentence motherfuckers to life imprisonment to check with me and see that i wasn't actually crazy? i'm not fucking good enough for her five minutes? i'm not a human being, worthy of respect? i'm not somebody with my own complex emotions and desires and ups and downs? i'm just a fucking piece of trash, apparently, i'm just a fucking number, i'm just a fucking slave in the goddamn system, so that i don't deserve to be talked to, i don't deserve to be seen, i'm just some motherfucker who deserves to be locked up and told what to do, because i'm not a human being after all. i'm a fucking number. sobbing. shaking. arguing. sobbing. they take me down a hall. they lock me in a room. they tell me, strip down. they tell me, wait here. i ask when my doctor will be in. nobody knows. i ask when i can leave. nobody knows. i ask why i'm here. nobody knows. i ask if i can leave. no. it's smoke break on the west ward. sit outside. people have smokes, but they're hiding it. if people know you have a pack, they're gonna swarm you asking for a spare cigarette. so they hide it. people go around making deals. hey buddy, can i get your short? can i butt with you? hey man, can i share that? we're all desperate for the little highs we can get. i try, but i can't. talk to Keith. Keith's feet are dirty and cracked; Keith's homeless. Keith says, that pastor down at New Beginnings, he's crooked. He says, my mom works for Urban Development, she knows he's under federal investigation for taking food stamps from parolees. He says, a homeboy of his, Pastor Ted made advances on. He says, known him a long time, and he's all in it for the money. Richard says, his family has known Pastor for years and years. says he knows the pastor's first wife, his current wife. Says he's heard the rumors about Ted being homosexual. Says that all the programs ask for your EBT stamps, he says that it's not against the law, says that it's voluntary. Keith asks, can you be in the program and keep your Metro card? Answer me that, can you keep your stamps and still be in the program? Keith talks to me, he says, what kind of pastor carries a 9 in the church? when you're a man of God and you've got a 9 in the church, when you're smoking cigarettes in the church, you're not on the better side of things. i've gotta agree. we both share our fond curses for Judge Keats, the parole judge. we both share our grumblings. Dinner time. I've been here twelve hours. can't move my hands too well. can't feel my face. can't believe i'm here. don't know why i'm here. i don't want to hurt myself, i don't want to hurt anyone else. where the hell is my doctor? nobody knows. microwaved dinners in the box, two cartons of milk. hey man, you can have my butter. guy's got Hard Life tattooed on his knuckles. bitches about the food, me and Keith agree. Richard chimes in, says it's usually better. watch shitty movie on the TV. go back to the ward. smoke break. dad manages to send me a pack of smokes in here. nurses sneak it to me over the counter, make sure nobody else knows. stand outside, and Keith knows. he asks me, man, can i get a smoke? i say, you gotta find happiness where you can. I hand out smokes like the Candyman. I give one to Keith, one to Hard Life, one to Richard. Frederick walks up to me and asks for one, I give him one. Give one to Junkie Brewster. We stand in communion. I give one to the carnie, the man with the tattooes on his face. we talk. we talk about smuggling in microdots in the lining of your briefcase. we talk about Fantasy Ranch and the DJs who used to play there. we talk about the pure crystal they used to have on the streets, back in the mid-90's. we talk about the shit-grade molly they've got now, all the kids thinking they've got gold when they've got meth. we talk about Amsterdam, we talk about buying bags of heroin. Frederick talks to me about the gospel, talks to me about King Crimson, talks to me about the music scene in Detroit. he says to me, i slept with a Glock next to my head a couple of nights, i'm a little fucked in the head. he's fifty-seven, been to forty-seven states, been out in the desert, been down the streets. he talks to me about the ministry that calls to him, talks to me about the good we find in all people, about how we're only human. talks to me about the little hand-crank radio he has, about how he listens to old sci-fi on the AM channels, about his old days as a trucker, about the way he talks to the wind, the music he makes. smoke break over. go inside. ask if i can shit. snacks. Cereal bars and decaf instant coffee in lukewarm water. talk to keith, talk to carnie, talk to richard, talk to hard life. bitch about the food. Immortals on the TV, bad movie, doesn't matter. go back to the ward. line up. blood pressure time. sleep time. lie down on the mattress. sweat. cry. sweat. shake. wake up. blood pressure time. breakfast time. smoke break time. share away the last of my pack. talk about heroin addiction. talk about the carnie, twenty-four years of working there. talk about richard's dad dying of cancer, him coming in one day and the doctors telling him he's fine, coming in the next and having to take him off ventilators, having to watch him die. how his wife killed his dogs when he came down to florida to put down his dad, how the only reason she's still breathing is because of his daughter, because of his little girl. he talks about how he's not a perfect man, about how he's only human, about how he got himself a record because of all this shit in his life, and now he's getting straight. i believe in richard. shoot the shit. wait. read the Bible, book of Job. my clothing is rendered, my hair is sprinkled with ash. and none of these wise men can convince me to believe in god. wait. talk to the doctor. five minutes, she says five words. i spend five minutes explaining the situation, and she discharges me. you couldn't have spared the time last night? you couldn't have spared the time yesterday morning, sitting in your office five feet from me? you fucking shit. you fucking piece of shit. you don't decide where i go. you don't decide when i live. YOU CAN NOT MAKE ME A FUCKING SLAVE. I AM A GODDAMN HUMAN BEING, YOU STUPID, INCOHERENT, IDIOTIC FUCKING IDIOT. I DESERVE RESPECT, YOU MOTHERFUCKER. I AM NOT YOUR FUCKING SLAVE waiting. leaving. sobbing on my dad's shoulder. mcdonald's. never tasted so good. riding home in the work truck, windows down, my face out the window, my tongue in the wind. i can taste the exhaust pipe smog, and it tastes good. go by her place. get all my shit in the boxes. leave. come back in. tell her, i want nothing to do with you. don't text me, don't call me. don't think you can ever make up for this. don't think you can ever excuse this. don't think you'll ever hear from me. head back. Pacific Rim. Fireball whiskey. Memories with my dad. Telling me, he loves me no matter what. telling me, i don't need her to make my life. telling me he'll advise me, he'll tell me what he thinks is right, but he'll never tell me what to do. he'll never tell me when i can fucking smoke. nobody will ever take away my shoes again. happiness.