#but these itch bundles fucking rule and go to a good cause

[ghostsontelevision]

new ttrpg bundle on itchio!

this one’s funding trans rights in florida! get it here, $5 is a steal for even one of these games, let alone 505

[beesmygod]

Hello, do u have any game recommendations for the steam winter sale? If not don’t worry. Have a nice day!

what a sweet question...my recommendations are going to suck so sorry ahead of time

dark souls remastered - $19.99 / dark souls 3 - $14.99 : you know what these are. i still think the remaster price is bullshit. that's a good price for 3 tho.

sekiro - $29.99 : this game took a long time to grow on me but man. it fucking rules.

fallout new vegas ultimate - $7.99 : the good bethesda game not made by bethesda. a steal for a game that i dropped a ton of time into over the years. for some reason it just kept pulling me back in! it's just kinda fun to explore, you know.

morrowind GOTY edition - $4.59 : god i love morrowind. uh, once i modded it to hell and back lol. the base game is not very playable. but once you fix all that shit my god its easily my favorite bethesda game. it has absolute faith in the player to fucking figure shit out and doesn't give you waypoints. instead you have to ask around and get directions! they have not and will never make a world this weird again. you ride around on giant insects and explore cities with bizarro architecture that's easy to get lost in. you meet living gods and dunmer who have gaping holes in their faces and empty skulls. the fauna are fucking dinosaurs. its so fucking good. AND everyone fucking HATES YOU LMFAO. EVERYONE. absolutely no one wants you to be the chosen one. its great.

oblivion GOTY edition deluxe - $5.99 : morrowind's much much dumber brother. hysterically bad at times. breaks in the funniest ways. install mods so it breaks more often. one time i walked into a village and everyone was t posing outside and slowly slid to the left through houses and barns and shit until they disappeared into a mountain. just wonderful.

dishonored definitive edition - $4.99 / dishonoured 2 deluxe bundle - $11.99 : extremely fun series where you get to teleport around and kill people. takes itself very seriously which makes it all the more charming lol. it feels good to play, you know.

opus magnum - $9.99 : i still havent finished this puzzle game because its hard but like. good hard. reminds me of the difficulty of 90s puzzle games that were geared toward adults.

two point hospital - $8.74 : this is just the base game bc the price for everything is completely out of pocket. this is a hospital sim game. run your hospital. hire your staff. build your rooms. try not to kill people. don't go bankrupt. good luck!

disco elysium - $17.99 : you know what this is.

girls like robots - $3.49 : a little puzzle game that scratches an itch ive been drastically trying to scratch. you can pick up and put down quickly. i like it

sunless sea - $6.45 : taking place in the world of the browser game "fallen london", you pilot a ship and manage your sanity, HP and food meters while out at sea. slowly reveal the map, find ways to make money by determining the best trade routes, and meddle in everyone's affairs. everyone's. the fellas at the salt lions will trade with you until the supply dries up and the fed-up postal workers have their own very insular culture that doesn't involve you and the polythreme causes all inanimate to become alive. all of them. pretty neat.

civ 6 anthology - $29.88 : ugghhhhhh 30 dollars?! in this economy?! damn you sid meiers and your stupid piecemeal dlc releases. you might as well get the full bundle bc the base game is unplayable. they shipped half a game. this pissed me off so much next time im pirating. good game tho.

pathologic 2 - $9.79 : maybe a little too close to reality right now but it is one of the best games ive ever played. feel free to play it on any difficulty option (this game is notorious for its perceived difficulty) but know that you're supposed to die and fail repeatedly. you cannot save them all. you won't save them all. maybe on the next playthrough, you can take what you've learned, try again.

planescape: torment - $5.99 : i played this ancient game this year and had an absolute blast with it lol. despite knowing nothing about the lore of the world, i managed to get sucked in to this really weird place the game dropped me in and quickly caught up on all the details.

sleeping dogs - $2.99 : neo-noir mystery set in hong kong. you play an undercover cop trying to infiltrate a gang so the game has you working both criminal stuff and police work at the same time. neat concept. funny on purpose at times. but my god the ending is disappointing lol. im telling you now to spare you the "that's it?!" feeling

saints row 4 game of the century edition - $4.99 : deeply stupid game. the johnny gat DLC is supposed to be terrible. the christmas one was a hoot. its mindless.

SOMA - $4.49 : philosophical horror game about consciousness. i dont know if there's a way to describe it without sounding pretentious. the way the player choices are utilized is the best way ive seen in a game so far since it reaches past the character youre playing to you, the player. highly recommend to play the mode where the monsters dont kill you. i fucking hate frictional games' gameplay. its wretched stuff. plus the monsters are pretty cool lol i liked looking at them

star wars knights of the old republic 1 & 2 - $3.49 : these games are worth exactly this much. the first one is one of the stupidest games ive ever played in my entire life and i dont think ive laughed so much. its like a b-movie in game form. its a riot, its just not good. the second one is made by obsidian and NEEDS!!! the patch!!!! to be a fully playable game. with the restored content its not half bad and the writing still drops into b-level territory delightfully.

[jungxk]

just one (viii)

summary: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

notes: first of all i wanna thank the people who supported me and encouraged me through one of the worst writers blocks of my life. all the messages and comments are the reason why i finally managed to post this. special thanks to @whippedforkook for helping me with the monstrous tagging process as well as giving me so much praise. and also @lonelyending for cheering me on for a literal YEAR bc thats how long i cried over this fic! this story is so special to me. we’re in the home stretch now x

warnings: mentions of illegal drug use and distribution, swearing, brief smut.

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 8k

tagging: @cutechim @benz-biarritz @gyukult @bangulin @eatersanonymous @alyssa1926 @skivv1es @a-sucker-for-them-sappy-shit @moonights @jeymuffins @juuneaux @catsukiii @andreaisaac @whatheydontunderstand @sreveles @noruls619 @henryharios @just-a-fuxked-up-kid @befriendswithj @btsbesharam @poemsandpunani @taelha @misosoup-forthesoul @jikooksmut @heart-eyedmf @the-piano-woman @angrysunshine @chaoticpaperfanhoagie @jsungshine @ci-yen @faby-montana @shinypeanutsportshero @jooniestrivia @alucards-s @cynamyngirl @jiminie-angel @myskoova @jkshoneybuns @smokintae @remmykinsff @majinbuwu @jangx2manboongx2 @potatodogs @seul-queen @alpharyth @blenxxxg @plsky @th-singularity @bapbaptothetop @hermiones-enchantment @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @euphorora @supachloe94 @jiminxjimout @ggukkieland @just-another-fic-recs-blog @jalexad​

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

x

4 years ago

x

jimin hated yugyeom.

well, maybe hate was a strong word. he just didn't like talking to him, being around him, hearing his name or interacting with him on any level, social or otherwise. he really tried though, since he was one of jungkook's closest friends and still respectfully referred to him as hyung above all else. and if anything, jimin would always have a soft spot for jungkook, the kid he used to coddle when his own brother wasn't around. but having said that, there wasn't really much basis for not liking yugyeom. it was just a gut feeling jimin couldn't explain, a very subtle callousness about him only jimin could pick up on. for the most part he was just like very other mild mannered boy by day and party animal by night, but jimin still ducks when he sees him enter the library.

"fuck," he hisses under his breath, scooping up his laptop to stride behind a book shelf for good measure. because sometimes, contrary to popular belief, jimin wanted to be alone. he didn't want to make small talk or listen to someone tell him about how well they scored on their last paper or complain about their annoying girlfriend. sometimes jimin wanted to have no thoughts and listen to fleetwood mac as per his human rights. which is why he shoves into the first private study room he sees.

and not an empty one at that. there's a girl inside, sitting cross-legged in her chair at a desk with an array of dried up paint tubes and brushes surrounding open sketchbooks. you don't look annoyed or even that phased, just amused as you give him a once over before going back to painting. "on the run from solji?"

jimin blinks, back still pressed against the door. "huh?" he regards you properly. "i'm sorry, have we met before?"

"not really," you admit with a sheepish smile, which is when jimin suddenly realises that you're...attractive. "solji is in my stats class. you hooked up with her last week at some party and she told me about it."

"oh," jimin takes in your plethora of art supplies. "you don't look like a stem student."

there's a glimmer of something in your eyes, and though you hide it well jimin knows he's struck a nerve. "yeah, i get that a lot."

"it's not solji by the way," jimin clarifies. for some reason. "that i'm hiding from. just a bellend i don't have the energy for right now."

you smile. "it's fine. you don't owe me your life story."

"i do when i'm about to impose on your...study time," jimin peers through the window in the door, wincing when yugyeom enters the hallway. "what would it take for you to let me stay in here for a while?"

you pause for a second. "honestly? just be quiet and leave me alone. is that okay?"

jimin perks up, a weight leaving his chest. "perfect, actually."

x

x

x

[jungkook 11:42pm]: why does it say wings on it

[jungkook 11:42pm] where is it flying

[you: 11:43pm] ffs kook

[you: 11:44pm] im still on the toilet can u just hurry up

[you 11:44pm] grab some tampons too pls

[jungkook 11:46pm] fine what size pussy do u wear

[you 11:46pm] i hate u

[jungkook 11:53pm] ???? ? ? well? ????

[you 11:54pm] REGULAR 

jungkook giggles at his phone, already having left the women's sanitary aisle to grab some chocolate. months later and teasing you was still bundles of fun. he knew for a fact that you were sat there with that angry pout on your face, nose crinkled. he had never bought anything like this before, but jungkook had enough brain cells to know that chocolate was another necessity for that time of the month. after grabbing a large hazelnut bar, he pauses beside the oreos before grabbing a packet of those too. just for good measure. he strides to the self checkout - because even he wasn't man enough for the cashier yet - nearly dropping his array of sanitary products and confectionary when somebody calls out his name from behind the queue.

"kook!" the voice is unmistakably yugyeom's, confirmed by the hand that clamps jungkook over the shoulder and swivels him round before he could think about hiding his socially compromising shopping items. it takes a second for yugyeom to notice, doing a double take at the pads atop his small tower of goods. he holds back a laugh, balancing a bottle of gin in one hand while he waves back at some friends to continue. they were clearly making their pit stop before a night out, probably pre's if they still start as late as jungkook remembers. with his hair styled and expensive cologne lingering, jungkook almost forgets he probably looks unrecognisable in his sweats and cotton-fresh hoodie. friday nights weren't for cuddling. still, yugyeom's smile is welcoming and familiar. "got the munchies? and maybe also a uterus?"

"shut up," jungkook grumbles, averting his eyes. he shifts to his other foot uncomfortably. "my friend just needed a favour, that's all."

"uh huh," yugyeom gives him a teasing look. "is this friend the reason why i barely saw you at jin's the other week?"

jungkook blinks back at him. "wait, you were at that party? i had no idea!" a boyish smile breaks over his face. "why didn't you call me? i haven't seen you since-"

"minseok-hyung's new years eve party," yugyeom throws his head back with a laugh. "remember how we ended up on a boat after the ball dropped and-"

"spent all of new years day detained by the coast guard!" jungkook finishes with a mischievous cackle of his own, nearly dropping the tampons in the process. "fuck, that was so much fun! we need to meet up again, i haven't been out with the guys in so long."

"well no wonder," he quips a brow at jungkook's shopping again. "word got out you're a family man but i didn't believe it. until now, that is."

jungkook's smile falls. "what do you mean?"

yugyeom looks at him for a second, confused by jungkook's surprise. yugyeom was never quite as diplomatic as namjoon or yoongi, to put it lightly. and definitely nowhere near as accomodating as jimin. which is why his next words make jungkook's back stiffen. "bro, look at yourself. you got dairy milk in one hand and tampax in the other. on a friday night. the next time i see you i wouldn't be shocked if you had a baby buggy and a mortgage." still, yugyeom throws him an apologetic look. like a mouse caught in a trap. "face it, kook. you're old news."

"what? that's not true," his brows furrow unhappily. "i don't know what you're talking about. it's not like she's my..."

he can't say the word, but it hangs between them like a dead weight.

"yeah, right," the condescending look on yugyeom's face was starting to agitate him. "you totally blanked us at jin's after she showed up. not even just jin's..." he thinks twice about holding his tongue, but as always, decides against it. "i don't know you, jungkook. whoever this new jungkook is. it's been months. you used to hit us up and be independent and spontaneous and wild and now you're just...someone's boyfriend.

"stop fucking saying that," jungkook snaps, all visible signs of friendliness gone.

"why?" a beat. "do you even use a wrap with her anymore?"

jungkook splutters, heat rushing to his ears and hands in a stinging combination of anger and embarrassment. "how is that any of your business? the fuck are you asking me something like that, as if you-"

"thought so," yugyeom looks away from him with a sigh. if anything, yugyeom knew never to overstay his welcome but that clearly backfired tonight. "whatever, jungkook," he looks over his shoulder at him. "guess you're the last one to find out you're officially married."

"you're ridiculous," jungkook scoffs. "all this over condoms? grow up, yugyeom."

"only couples do it raw," yugyeom turns away from him, alcohol in tow as he waves a hand over his shoulder to join his friends like jungkook was nothing but a lost cause. "you would remember that if you still had game."

jungkook stands there, dumbfounded while the group of boys exit the store noisily but he can't hear a thing. the siren that had been itching the back of his mind all this time was suddenly there at full force, right between his eyes. the glaring truth that yugyeom might be right makes his knees buckle. all those rules jungkook once had, all those measures he kept in place to protect his liberty, to prevent this very occurence - where were they? what happened to them? as the sweet and accommodating counterpart to jimin, why had you never complied? though, the blame wasn't on your hands alone. he got complacent, comfortable. lenient. and now without even realising he was here, a scene from a romcom in the middle of the night, with nothing to say for himself but fuck. the realisations wouldn't stop racing, one after another on the conveyer belt of his anxiety.

the photos on his phone; mostly you. time spent, usually with you. the portfolio for his latest photography module also had some resemblance to your interests. charcoal pencils, night drives, orchids. like the ones you always drew on any scrap of paper lying around. now that he thinks about it, he's seen nothing but your orchids for months. and not just that - you wore his clothes sometimes too. his bathroom had your toothbrush, contraceptive pills and coconut shampoo. his closest friends, his hyungs...not one of them was devoid of affection for you. he wasn't even confident that if the choice was presented, they would still pick him over you.

by the time jungkook finishes paying and practically sprints to his truck in a daze, he can hardly keep himself from shaking. he palms the wheel compulsively, he could feel the sweat in his sideburns, hoodie suddenly suffocating him. it smelled of you.

and then, like a final curtain call: was he just your latest fixer-upper project? some good girl wet dream to play out in the wake of your emotionally traumatic past? a slap in the face to seokjin, maybe, and nothing more? when you were done, when he was out of your system, when you knew his taste by heart and had nothing new left to try - would you stay? did you even know how to?

did he?

jungkook starts the engine. he drives to your door, drops your bag of snacks and pads on the porch, and texts you before leaving. he does not go inside.

x

x

x

"you sure you'll be okay with just the boys?"

you scoff at seulgi when she pins you with a worrying look, taking some of her clothes out of her bag to re-fold them just so you had something to do with your hands. jisoo had already left for the long weekend with her family, so there was no one there to fill up the empty space between your awakward reply. you didn't know how to tell the girls that jungkook hadn't contacted you in nearly a month. and even though he was a notable flight risk from the beginning, you couldn't help but feel like there was hostility there. every now and again he'd at least send a nude or have a quick phone call when he was drunk or high at three in the morning, but you hadn't heard a peep from him. you couldn't stand the idea of someone you cared about harbouring comtempt for you, but the fear of reaching out and somehow making the situation worse outweighed it tenfold. 

you look up to see seulgi still staring at you with concern. "of course i'll be fine! they're boys, not piranhas."

"at least piranhas contribute our ecosystem. boys just cause problems for the hell of it," seulgi lays a hand on the crown of your head like a berating big sister, swivelling you to look at her in your fit of giggles. the urge to nestle you under blankets like a baby bird made her chest heave, and you could tell. "i'm serious. if jimin tries anything, call me immediately okay?"

"jimin?" you snort. "out of a room full of delinquents, my ex, and taehyung, you're worried about jimin of all people?"

seulgi wrinkles her nose. "god, when you say it like that its like i'm throwing you to the dogs." she pauses. "something's up with jimin. i don't know what it is, but he's...off."

you tilt your head innocently, remembering the brief interaction you had with hobi at seokjin's party. you had been so caught up in jungkook - or lack thereof - you hadn't thought to press him about it afterwards. in truth, jimin remained as...jimin as ever. if he was acting differently you certainly couldn't tell. "you think so?"

"mmm," she leans on the lip of the open suitcase thoughtfully. "but maybe with jungkook there, he'll behave himself."

you gulp, fiddling with his watch on your wrist anxiously. "maybe."

x

x

x

you nearly yelp when you feel a big hand swivel around your waist, bucking into the kitchen counter reflexively. jungkook always did this before rubbing his boner against your ass, but the light scent of citrus and short squeeze lets you know immediately that its taehyung. hoseok, jimin, namjoon and yoongi were still in the living room playing video games, giving taehyung the perfect opening to intercept you. namjoon and yoongi had insisted that you come over to their place after finding out you'd be alone for the weekend, and you had completely refused before taehyung's coaxing. and of course, jimin's persuasive nudging. even though you felt safe and relaxed here, it felt wrong to be in jungkook's friends' place without him. almost like a breaching of an unspoken boundary.

and clearly, taehyung picked up on your discomfort by the way he stared at you so softly. his back was to the sink, his sillhouette particularly long and lean this evening. "you need to lighten up, princess. you keep looking over your shoulder so much it's making me nervous!"

your visibly droop with a sigh. "i'm sorry tae. i've had a lot on my mind lately, and..."

he claps his hands on your shoulders, teeth peeking through his grin. "you're not doing anything illegal by being here without jungkook."

you wince at his name. "have you always been able to read my mind like this?"

"absolutely," taehyung's brown eyes look so rich up close. "you're allowed to have friends that are also his friends, because - and try to stick with me on this - relationships between people are allowed to be independant from the primary circles they met in. mind boggling concept, i know."

you wack him on the chest until he laughs. "stop making fun of my anxious thought processes! its called mental illness, sherlock! i can't help it!"

his nose scrunches cutely, enjoying your first fiery outburst of the day. "whatever. i call it not getting laid for a month and losing critical thinking abilities from it."

you gape at him indignantly while taehyung roars with laughter. "you're such a dickhead," you hiss through gritted teeth, yanking his hair and jabbing your fingers in his sides the way you would with jimin during a tickle fight. "whores have feelings too, taehyung! whores have feelings too!"

you both fall about with laughter, knocking over half the snacks on the counter in the process which only makes the pair of you laugh even more. it's such childish chaos trying to clean up the mess on the tiny kitchen floor that neither of you notice the front door open, or the gust of metaphorical and literal wind that follows. watching taehyung trying to salvage a bag of broken crisps is just so funny that the presence of an another voice in the living room goes unregistered, as do the footsteps leading up the hallway to the kitchen, so you have no time to brace yourself or properly pull yourself together with you see-

"...jungkook."

yours and taehyung's heads snap to the doorway. jungkook stands there with almost complete lack of emotion on his face to the pair of you kneeling in crumbs and napkins. there's a brief pause where the tension in your eye contact alone was so strong that it felt wrong to breathe. but it is shortlived. jungkook tiptoes over you like spilled milk, reaching for a glass of water. you and taehyung lock eyes while the tap runs in the awkward silence. "hey. you okay?"

"um," you're not sure whether to stand up, hug him, look at him, or even face him. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine."

he nods politely. "hyung?"

even taehyung looks visibly uncomfortable. "i'm good."

"cool. see you later," he says, downing the glass impressively fast before leaving the room just as fast as he entered it.

you and taehyung stare at each other again, not understanding why you both feel like kids caught eating cake before dinner. you could feel the sweat pricking at your back from the realisation. jungkook had no idea you'd be here, and given that interaction he'd probably want to leave now. there was always the inkling woven between his radio silence that he was done with you, but you never let yourself take it seriously out of logic. because how could months of passion and tenderness and honesty be undone so irrevocably like that? it didn't make sense. you hadn't changed. you were the same girl he hit on relentlessly and chased against all odds. so what was different now?

"____," taehyung calls your name gently, and it's only then you realise you're already up and trailing after jungkook into the living room. when you walk in he's already putting his shoes on to leave again, barely making eye contact with you while he chats absently to his hyungs so he can look busy. the four boys on the large sofa can only reply wearily, eyes darting between the pair of you like a firework was about to blow to soon. and it was.

you could feel it in your throat, under your breast bone, bubbling up your stomach. "wait, jungkook. um...h-how have you been? i haven't heard from you in-"

"i've been good," he keeps tying and re-tying his laces without looking up. "super busy. you know how it is."

his curtness makes you flinch. this same time last month jungkook used to kiss you senseless before he had both feet in the door. he'd ring the doorbell incessantly like a child and greet you with the biggest, toothiest grin you had ever seen. he'd make fun of your bed head and squeeze your cheeks until you'd snap at him. and now when he looked at you he hated every second of it. your mother had the same look. your eyes start to burn involuntarily. "yeah, i do. how is uni? your final project is due soon, right? what theme did you pick in the end?"

"the one i told you about," he stands up abruptly. "sorry, noona. something came up. i'll see you arou-"

"something came up?" you step closer to him. "something came up the second you saw my face? or did you really just trek all the way to your hyungs' place for a glass of water, jungkook?"

jungkook stiffens, but is determined not to lose face. and it's difficult to do under your big, accusatory eyes and jimin's death stare at his back. the whole room was waiting for his response, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets resolutely. "i needed to see yoongi hyung, but i can come another time."

you fold your arms. "well it's clearly important, and you're here now. so don't let me stop you."

"but you will stop me," jungkook snaps. "that's the problem."

"kook-ah," yoongi warns quietly, but he took one look at your face and knew the damage was done. jimin was already standing up, circling around the back of the sofa towards you. the red lights were all there; your watery eyes, your trembling hands. every breath you took looked difficult for you to complete and only jimin noticed.

"what are you talking about?" you squint. it takes you a second to understand; yoongi's guilty expression, jungkook's indifference. "oh, you're fucking kidding me." your resolve breaks for a second turning away only to glare back at jungkook with so much fire you can hardly stand it. "you're selling again? are you insane, jungkook?"

"see," jungkook's eyes are stony. "i knew you'd get this way."

"what other way am i supposed to get?" his lack of response only infuriates you more. it felt disrespectful. "jungkook, you're not a kid anymore. if you get caught with drugs the consequences are serious! forget the potential jail time, you could get kicked out of university, it would go on your record forever and-"

"stop talking to me like i'm a kid!"

"then stop acting like one!" you hate raising your voice, but it keeps climbing without your approval. "did you think about this for even five minutes? this isn't like just going to juvie like before and being done with it jungkook. your hyungs can't bail you out of everything."

"this is a lot of talk for someone who lapped up those fancy paints without a second thought," jungkook says darkly. his eyes aren't like you remember, his face solemn and near unrecognisable. "or did you think that getting that kind of money overnight is only something that's possible through daddy's credit card?"

dread blooms like a garden inside you. "that's...that's how you bought the paint set?"

"welcome to the real world," he quips. "as if selling overpriced weed to a bunch of pick-me-freshmans is considered a crime against humanity to anyone but you."

"you think that's why i'm yelling at you right now?" your voice was growing hoarse, desperate. "you think that's the problem i have with you being literal drug dealer, jungkook?"

he hates it. the sweltering silence, the judgmental eyes digging into his back, the slow realisation that the tears in your eyes were not at him but for him. jungkook's ears ring enough to make him sway on the spot if his feet weren't planted so firmly on the dingy carpet, this metaphorical ground. he couldn't shake the feeling that his lifestyle was only an issue now because of you, how he never felt a shred of guilt about any of this shit until he met you. and if there was anything that jungkook never responded well to, it was pity. and he could feel it from every person in the room, all people that that once cherished and coddled him until you came along. he swallows, throat dry from the way he couldn't look at you knowing what he was going to say next.

"you're embarrassing yourself, noona. you're not my girlfriend and you never were, so stop acting like it."

cotton. it's very faint, under the layers of conflicting cologne and beer and smoke, but jungkook still smelled of cotton while he spat acid. nobody could speak, even though jungkook never raised his voice let alone a hand to you, it still hit like a slap in the face. it sunk into the walls, your clothes, suddenly every hair on your body felt heavy with it. dirty. the shame came first, the humiliation next. and then the sorrow, the dread, and finally the defeat. you knew the stages well by now, and they were cycling through you like clockwork. how foolish you were, to make the same mistake again. nobody dared to move, everyone but jungkook staring at you in denial and horror. they couldn't believe their eyes when you nod steadily, bowing your head to the floor.

jimin is already slotting himself between you, his jaw tight. "that's enough, kook. just leave already."

"no," you stop him, unnervingly resigned. that single word cuts through all six men with ease. "he's right." you step around jimin, closing the space between you and jungkook. for a brief moment he wonders if you'll actually hit him, but somehow watching you unclasp his watch from your wrist and drop it on the coffee table in front of him is far worse. the sound seems to ring like church bells, definitive and umistakable. "you're right, i'm not your girlfriend. you win jungkook."

they all watch you leave in dismay, listen to the door closing softly behind you. within a second jimin sprints after you, calling your name, leaving everyone else dumbfounded. jungkook's stare could bore a hole into the abandoned watch on the table, still ticking away like nothing changed. like his eyes weren't burning, lightheaded at the realisation that he would never wear a watch again let alone the one he put on you.

x

x

x

to an outsider, you looked like you were coping well considering you just got dumped in front of all your friends. but jimin knew that face. your stony eyes, lips pulled thin as if to seal inside the collapse of a monument. you took the tea he offered, and then his arms, your face finding his chest with ease. muscle memory. his torso was a tad shorter than jungkook's, his heart closer to your mouth as if the steady thumps were asking for a kiss of acknowledgement. every time you close your eyes you could see jungkooks face, hard and unforgiving and nothing like the man you trusted all this time. but it wasn't a new expression; you parents looked at you similarly the last time you saw them. it was the look of someone who had no regrets cutting all ties. and now, jungkook was behind them in a lost list of people who chose to be strangers over loving you.

jimin sighs when you cry into his chest, brushing the back of your head gently. he had been ready for this for months, but he still hated to see you this way. again. it made his bones itch, his skin crawl uncomfortably every time you weeped. the only time he considered violence was when you were crying. but he knew what to do, laying down across the sofa so you could curl up into a ball next him, head on his bicep and face smushed into the crook of his shoulder. you used to cry like this for hours and hours, his arm familiar with the prickle of pins and needles. but it was the only place you felt safe. tucked into jimin's side is where you would always belong, and that truth was more glaringly obvious than ever now.

"lets get something to eat," he offers eventually, hand craddling the crown of your head like a child. jimin's other hand on your hip is warm and heavy when he pats you soothingly. in your episodes, you responded well to touch. "what about thai food?"

"not hungry," you grumble against him.

"we could make something together?" he peers down at your lack of response. "come on, babe. you gotta eat something. you didn't even have breakfast-"

"why am i so stupid?" you whisper, a fresh bout of tears welling up.

jimin rubs your thigh. "it's not your fault."

"yes it is. jungkook gave me plenty of red flags, and i ignored all of them-"

"oh, i meant you being stupid."

you scoff. "cheers."

"what?" jimin cocks a brow when you lift your head to look up at him. he wets his lips and you follow the swipe of his tongue thoughtlessly, distracted enough by his touch and proximity that you take a second to digest his words. "it's not like any of this exactly came as a surprise. you ignored me, remember? wanted to flex your big girl pants."

you pull away from him and sit up, forcibly shutting out the daze that jimin routinely puts you under. "what's wrong with you? can't you be polite and wait for a couple hours before laying into me like a normal person? jesus, jimin."

"so let me get this straight," jimin sits up, watching your back as you sit away from him. "you're mad because i'm not telling you what you want to hear?"

"no," you say, head shaking. "i'm not mad. i'm upset because i came here to be comforted by my friend and you're just making me feel worse."

"what do you want me to say, ____? that i had high hopes from the start?" jimin pushes his hair back, brows now at a sharp incline from frustration. "i told you starting something with jungkook was trouble but you didn't listen. why should i feed your victim complex when all i've done is try to help you?"

"victim complex?" you repeat, standing up slowly. the sudden steadiness of your voice causes jimin to panic.

"not like that. don't take it like that, it's just," he's suddenly before you, his warm hands palming up your arms warmly. "i didn't wanna see you get like this and it happened anyway, is all i'm saying." he sighs when your scowl doesn't let up. "if hobi hyung hadn't have given up so easy, then maybe…maybe this would never have happened. maybe if i had been harsher with him then you would have-"

"what are you talking about?" you ask quietly, searching jimin's face. "give up so easy? what's that supposed to mean?"

he looks away, hands slipping off you. "it's nothing."

"jimin."

he struggles to look at you, tongue in cheek. his lips purse for a moment, pink like roses. he's wearing that navy jumper you like. "look, it's not a big deal. he wasn't supposed to fuck you or anything, just take you out for a while. get your mind off kookie, show you a nice time."

your blood runs cold. "what?"

jimin's expression softens. "it's not as bad as it sounds-"

"really?" your voice is sharp, sharper than he's ever heard it. you recoil as if you had been struck for the second time today. "because it sounds like you asked some guy to keep me occupied like i'm a fucking dog. all because you can't stand the idea of me being within a meter of jungkook-"

he steps in, but you step back. "you know that's not true, _."

"don't i?" you scoff, covering your face in disbelief. "jimin, you've been hellbent against me even looking at the guy since day fucking one."

"because i didn't want you to get hurt!" jimin counters, eyes downcast. "i know, okay? i know how much of a dick it makes me sound, but its not like it hurt you when you had no idea! hoseok broke it off before you even knew about it so why-"

"because it's worse," you turn away from him. "you tried to control me. choose what's best for me because you think you know better than i do. sound familiar?"

his jaw sets, and it's like you can hear the twine snap in his head, the percussion of his heartbeat above yours even though he doesn't close the space between you. jimin stares at you for a long minute before drawing in a thin breath. "fine," he steps in, and you can't look away. "you want me to say it? fine. i'll say it."

suddenly the air is lace thin around you as you stare at him, waiting. jimin looks off somewhere else, somewhere you can't reach. "don't tell me you haven't thought about it, because i know you have. if i have you must have too. and lately its all i can think about - being with you, holding you, being the one who gets to touch you. and yeah, maybe it took having to see you with jungkook for me to realise how much i want all that, i put my hands up. but you have no idea what's it like to watch the person you love most get toyed around with by a time bomb like that. i've seen jungkook go through girls like underwear and i love him, god i love him, but even the idea of you being one of those wasted girls sitting outside a party crying over his sorry ass makes my fucking ears ring."

"j-jimin…" you whisper, but you have nothing to say. your hands shake.

"you deserve more than that, ____. you deserve more than waiting around for booty calls or living up to what the next guy wants. from jungkook, hoseok, anyone. you deserve someone's devotion and yeah, maybe all this time i've been too much of a pussy to give it. maybe all this time i was tiptoeing around my feelings for you because i knew if i admitted to myself that i loved you - if i admitted i was just like every other guy - i'd actually set the bar for something other than disappointment. id actually have to step up, and i didn't know if i could do it. i still don't. but if it has to be someone…it should be me."

suddenly he's holding your hands, calming the tremble that rattles them. his words bunch up together in your ears, the meaning lost amidst your awe. "jimin….jimin what are you saying? where is all this coming from, i don't...i don't understand wh-"

"i'm saying," he cups your face. "choose me." he pulls you in. so, so close. "choose me, not jungkook. not anyone else. me."

and there's a part of you that has already caved. that's already kissing him, melting into his arms like you've wanted to for so, so long. you're falling back onto the couch with him in a fit of giggles, curling back into his chest to hide your watery eyes, asking him why the fuck he took so long. you chat together between teasing kisses, pour your hearts out, maybe cry a little. later you would make tea and order pad thai and watch the office all night and fall asleep together in the living room well past dawn and then-

you close your eyes. "i can't."

"you can," jimin says, so passionately you shudder. his brown eyes are teaming with too much determination and ardour for his own good, and you both know it. its difficult to grapple with how huge a risk he's taking, because jimin never takes risks. it made the whole situation seem dire. "you know you can, ____. it's us. there's no one like us."

you don't know how you're not crying yet. you only have jimin to hold onto, hands balled in his shirt without knowing if you're about to push him away or pull him in forever. "maybe back then. maybe if you'd have said all this before," you feel empty, the beat of your pulse suddenly strong in your fingertips. "but it doesn't matter anymore."

he shakes his head in denial, his determination palpable. "of course it does-"

"i'm in love with him," you say. to jimin. to yourself. to the world, finally. "i'm in love with jungkook." holding jimin's stare isn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. "you know if you'd have done all this a few months ago…if you'd have just...i was always yours without question, jimin. and you knew it." it's his turn to bristle under the strain of your voice. "jungkook isn't perfect. i'll be the first one to admit that. he's made me cry, he fucks up, he makes mistakes. but he's never lied to me. he never made decisions for me. he never passed judgement on what i should or shouldn't do with my life. something that i never thought i wouldn't able to say about you, too."

there's a brief moment where everything stops. neither of you can believe what you just said. jimin watches you, frozen in his place as you take your bag, eyes glittering with tears when he calls for you. suddenly he's the time bomb he feared becoming, the panic in his eyes lighting them up like fire crackers. for the first time in his life, he stumbles over his words, and then his feet when you reach for the door, all composure lost. he was unravelling like a tapestry in front of you, never to be repaired, and he could feel it. "____. ____, please," jimin chokes, his cheeks blotchy. "i wanted to protect you, i was just trying to help. don't go. please don't go. i was trying to help you."

"no. you were trying to have me." you say, closing the door behind you.

x

x

x

you have no idea what time it is when you hear the bell ring incessantly.

it had been hours since you'd returned home from jimin's, but there was no way for you to keep track when your only priority was just keeping yourself afloat. you turned your phone off, drew the curtains, and resolved to alternate between sitting in seulgi and jisoo's rooms until they came back. you didn't know what else to do. when you weren't crying you were hyperventilating, and when that stopped the absence of emotion was so powerful you could barely keep your eyes open. you were exhausted but could not sleep. starving but could not eat. it was a miracle you even made it down the stairs, using what little strength you had to yank it open without even thinking about who could be on the other side in the middle of the fucking night. but at this point, you would gladly take a serial killer over jimin or jungkook.

"taehyung," you breathe when you take in his face, relieved. you must look like absolute shit because he scans your face and winces. 

"jimin told me," he says, the apology in his voice and expression was almost painful to register. "he told me everything. ____, i'm so sorry. i should have told you about the hoseok thing, i just thought it would be worse coming from me, and then i tried to force jimin into confessing but then he didn't because he's jimin, and now-"

"you're only allowed to come inside if you stop apologising," you say weakly, voice haggered from the hours of crying.

taehyung's pouty expression almost makes you smile with how cute he looks, gingerly stepping over the threshhold. "i really am sorry though."

"for what," you say monotonously, closing the door behind him while he takes off his shoes. "my inexplicably terrible taste in men? my uncanny ability to get manipulated by literally anyone who shows me a scrap of affection? or my absolutey shredded-to-shit attachment style thats barely intact let alone functioning healthily? after hoppping between the first two for a few hours i'd personally go for the latter. but whatever."

"please shut up," taehyung sighs, bringing you into his arms before you could have a second thought about it. "you need to amp up the misandry in this context. a lot of this had nothing to do with you and everything to do jimin and jungkook."

you're too tired to open your eyes, snuggling into the softness of taehyung's chest. you’re too exhausted to argue. "where did you learn the word misandry? have you been reading?"

"yeah," you can hear his big, pleased grin. "i know you and the girls have been calling me a himbo behind my back."

"affectionately," you add, peering up at him. he wipes the wetness off your cheeks, moving upstairs to your room with your hand in his. he fetches you a glass of water before putting you into bed like he's paid to do it. taehyung was the cuddliest person you had ever met, but you had rarely seen him dote on anyone. "girls love himbos. it's a compliment."

"not all girls," he mutters when he returns from the bathroom with a glass of water. "drink this, would you? you look so dry it's making me itchy."

you do as he says with a roll of your eyes. "what do you mean?" you finish your water with a big gulp. "jisoo loves dumb guys, what are you talking about?"

taehyung looks away from you, bottom lip rolling up under his teeth so fast you barely catch it. he pulls up your desk chair next to your bed, thinking long and hard before meeting your eyes again. "i don't mean jisoo."

you don't understand at first, but after staring at his face for a long minute your stomach drops. "don't. don't you fucking dare," another beat of silence. you rip the covers off you to scamble to your knees, grab your pillow and hurl it at taehyung's head. "taehyung, please don't tell me that the one remaining, healthy relationship i have with a man has also been shot to shit because i swear to god i'm gonna-"

"it's not a big deal," he says firmly, and he really does mean it. taehyung catches your wrists when you lunge at him, effectively ending your outburst before it can begin. he keeps hold of them while he stares into your eyes, watching the way they fill up with a fresh bout of tears. "i've had a crush on you for a while, so what? it's not anyone's business but mine so don't worry about it."

you try not to scream at him. "how long?"

"...since the start." he shrugs. "it's not like i could have done anything anyway. with jimin around. he’d never have it."

"but...! but..." you splutter, the highlight reel of your friendship suddenly marred before your eyes. "but you let me talk to you about boys! you gave me advice with hobi and jimin and jungkook and...! you encouraged jimin to confess to me. and the whole thing with jisoo?"

he wets his lips guiltily. "jisoo is a nice girl. i like her, but...not like you. i've always liked you."

you shake your head in horror, your face crumpling. bile rose in your throat. "so all of that...playing with my friend like that. was just to get to me?"

"listen to me," taehyung says firmly, gripping your wrists to make you look at him again. he's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on yours, and you never realised how large taehyung's torso was compared to yours before. he could have smothered you, but he didn't. in all senses. "the way jimin and jungkook handled their feelings is on them, just like how this is on me. it doesn't matter if i'm fucking you or not, you're my friend and i'll always want people to do right by you. and that includes me."

there was nothing else to say, so taehyung wordlessly wipes your face again and fetches you more water before retreating to sleep on the couch downstairs. all the while you sat there in your bed, confused and bewildered and thoughtful. the same bed jungkook fucked you on. the same bed jimin held you in. out of all the men in your life, taehyung was the only one who treated his feelings for you with reverence. there wasn't one interaction you could think of where he made his feelings clear, where he even hinted towards wanting something more. if he hadn't have said anything tonight, in the wake of one of the most emotionally tumultuous days of your life, you would still be in the dark about it all. and that was the scariest part. you didn't know anyone else who hadn't let their feelings for you effect how they treated you. so ultimately, it was possible.

and jimin and jungkook chose not to do that. but taehyung did.

taehyung did.

when you finally pad downstairs after hours of ruminating, jisoo's bedroom door is wide open. and that's who you should be thinking about now - your friend and sister jisoo - as the sky begins to lighten with the signs of morning. you hadn't slept for over twenty four hours, you were hungry and thirsty, delirious from the whirlwind of losing the two most important men in your life in one day. but still, you are drawn to taehyung. taehyung, who never asked anything of you. taehyung, who was as silent as he was selfless this whole time. taehyung who routinely put what he wanted aside in favour of what was best for you. taehyung, who protected you without needing credit or recognition for it. taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung-

"taehyung," you whisper scraping your nails through his hair. his eyes fluttered open, twisting his head to face you as you hovered above him. he could barely see you in the darkness. "taehyung, wake up."

"what is it?" he croaks, sitting up with half-lidded eyes and a yawn. he doesn't know how to read the expression on your face. he swings his legs off the sofa in a sitting position, wearing nothing but his boxers and tee, visibly alarmed. "what happened? are you okay?"

you take his face in your hands and kiss him. 

taehyung stiffens against you, breath drawn thin. you pull away to gauge his expression, desperately searching his eyes in the darkness. for discomfort, disapproval, anything negative at all. the absolute ardour you find instead could knock you down if taehyung didn't reach for your neck, kissing you again. you whine at the feel of his tongue, having no idea where such sudden and intense arousal was coming from. when you pull away with shaky limbs, you climb onto his thick thighs so he can feel your wetness through his boxers. taehyung grunts at the sensation, and again when you kiss him passionately and without abandon. the sweet girl every guy he knew was agonising over, suddenly in his lap. he's barely had his tongue down your throat for ten minutes and you're already rocking into him, his erection betraying his resolve.

it's better than he dreamed. 

"taehyung," you gasp, palming him now. he groans when he pulls away to look at your mouth, glistening with his saliva when you take his hand and guide it down to your arousal. "please."

[stuck-in-hawkins]

When She Left- The Decision

Fandom: Stranger Things

Rating: T

Chapter 33/33

Will hadn’t slept on the floor in a while, and so he spent most of the night tossing and turning.  As a result, when Mike woke up, he found the roof of their fort covering them and Will’s sleeping bag much closer than it had been the night before.  The sun was glowing through the sheet, bathing Will’s face in a warm light dappled by the folds of the fabric.  

Throughout the many years of sleepovers, Mike had found a small joy in waking up first.  There was a content quietness in waiting for his friend to rise.  He would listen to the familiar pattern of Will’s breathing.  He’d lie there, trying to remember what he had dreamt and thinking about how he would tell them to Will.  Sometimes the dreams became the sparks that started stories or new games.  He would bide his time, eagering searching his friend’s face for signs of stirring.

But something was different now.  There was a similar feeling of joy but it rose up in his chest, like the swell of a wave.  It was a little overwhelming and took him by surprise.  

He tried to solve his feelings.  What was different about this morning?  Was the new closeness the cause?  Did the chemicals in his brain not know the difference between affection between friends versus lovers?  Was this why guys weren’t supposed to be affectionate?  Was it really this easy?

Or was he just gay?

The thought made him recoil.  The only answer to that was no.  Otherwise, everything he felt for El would have been a lie or not real.   And that was wrong.  There was no greater truth for Mike than this: he loved El with all of his being.  He would always love her.  He would die with that on his heart.  

So, the feelings churning inside him, the desire to ensure Will’s happiness, the need to protect him, they were all separate.  They were love but not the same love.  It was more familial, he told himself.  But that didn’t stop him from wanting to hold Will close.  His hands still itched to caress his face, to brush the hair off Will’s brow.  He looked so peaceful.  

He didn’t want Will to wake up yet.  He wanted to stay and look at him like this, to memorize all the details of Will’s face.  How much would it change when he went off to college?  Would he get more tan in California? Maybe he’d be able to grow a beard.  The thought made him inch closer.  How many more mornings like this did they have left?  He realized how much he hated that idea.  He pulled himself closer.  His heart was pounding in his ears.

Mike rested his forehead on Will's with the delicacy of a leaf landing.  He felt a flutter through him.  Familar butterflies that accompanied all the firsts he’d had.  The first time holding hands, his first kiss, all that bundled up energy that touches every nerve ending in a nervous bliss.  It was such a euphoric feeling.  

But he knew he had to stop.  This wasn’t fair to Will.  

Waking up next to someone was among the best feelings in the world.  Those mornings when El would steal into Mike’s room, just to wake up in his arms were among his favorite memories.  He’d loved the feeling of her hair brushing under his chin, her head on his chest.  It felt like they were one person.

But how many of those moments did Will have with June?  Had they ever woken up together?  Mike would be taking something that didn’t belong to him.  Despite the elation he’d felt, he knew he could never be in love again the way he was before.  He slowly inched himself away, trying to tuck all those thoughts and feelings back in.  When Will started to stir, Mike quickly rolled over.

Will stretched and said, groggily, “Good morning.”

“Morning, Will.” Mike turned back towards Will, as if he had been sleeping that way the whole time.  He hoped it wasn’t obvious.  

Will tried to get his heart to settle down.  He’d realized the blanket was covering them both.  They were sharing the same air.  He looked at Mike, his bed head, his eyes that still had the heaviness from sleep, and his heart rate worsened for it.  

Will thought, ‘Do you even know how beautiful you are?’  It scared him to think how close he had been to saying it.  

He quickly sat up, tossing the blanket off them, “You hungry?”  

Mike nodded and sat up himself, stretching.  Will got up and went to the cabinets, instructing himself the whole time to calm down.  Mike followed him in, getting the milk out of the fridge.  

Will said, “I’ll get it.  Sit down.”

Mike pulled out a chair and watched Will pour out the cereal.  They had done this a hundred times before.  But now it felt almost domestic and he imagined, not for the first time, what it would be like to live with Will.  He thought about trying to figure out how to cook or about wasting the day in their pjs playing video games or about having the guys over for a DnD session that would take half the day.  Then, the thought struck him like a match.  Everything that had happened last night… this morning…

What would Lucas say? Or Dustin?  Being with Will was like being in a separate world.  They had made their own rules, changing what was okay between friends.  But to the guys… they’d think he was taking advantage of Will.  Was he?  He felt like a weight dropped in his stomach.  

“You okay?”  Will set down their bowls.  

Mike replied a little too quickly, “Fine.” But gauging by Will’s reaction, he wasn’t convinced.  “Sorry, still waking up.” He barely tasted the store brand cereal and there was an awkward quiet as they ate.

Will waited for what he knew was coming.  Mike was regretting the arrangement.  He waited for the inevitable.  

Mike stared into his empty bowl, “Um, about last night…”

Will braced himself.

“Can we… can we keep this between us?”

Will felt instant relief.  He could tell by his tone, there was no sign of regret.  It was more like he was confiding and there was such a strong draw to it.  This would be theirs.  Mike still wanted this closeness, all he was asking for was Will’s silence, something Will had always given without thought.  His friends trusted him to keep their inner thoughts and confessions private and he had been honored by that faith.  

But this was a different kind of secret.  This one required lying.  The same way their former arrangement had.  Barely a week has gone by and Mike was asking him to lie to their friends again.  Dustin’s words rang through his head, ‘You don’t know how to say no to him.’  But he had to.  As much as he didn’t want to deny Mike’s request, keeping this secret would break the party’s trust in him, in them, for good.

“I can’t.”  Will answered.  

The surprise on Mike’s face was evident.  “What?”

Will took a breath, all of this was harder than he wanted it to be. “If you want me to keep what happened a secret, I will.  We’ll leave it here and never talk about it again.  But if you want to keep doing this, we have to tell the guys.”

“Why?  Why do they even need to know?” Mike could hear the biting tone in his own voice and he tried his best to calm down.  

“I don’t want to lie to them again.  We can’t lie to them again.”

He tried to soothe Will.  “It won’t be lying-”

“Yes, it will!  You think they won’t see it?  They won’t be able to tell?”

“And what are we supposed to tell them?”  Mike felt himself panicking.  He didn’t want Will to tell them. The very thought of having to confess what was going on… what he was feeling.  He hadn’t even figured it out himself.  And he suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable.  “What do we even call this?”

Will deflated, “I don’t know what we call it.  But it’s not something I can hide. They’ll find out we kept this from them and we’ll lose them.  All of them.”

Mike felt trapped and lashed out, his voice raising, “We’ll lose them if we do tell them!  What do you think Lucas will say when he finds out?  Do you think he’ll see it the way we do?  What about Dustin?”

“I don’t want to keep more secrets from them!”

“Well, who was it that started with the secrets, huh?”  Will was quiet and Mike realized how heated he was getting.  He took a moment to breathe.  He tried to soften his voice.  “Just for a little while, please Will.  Can we keep it between us?”

Will looked at Mike’s pleading face, and faltered.  Was Mike really asking for much?  Hadn’t he kept Will’s identity a secret?  Hadn’t he waited until he was ready?  Will had been the one who had asked Mike not to tell the others all those years ago.  And Mike had been there for his through those agonizing days.  Why couldn’t he keep this for Mike?

His heart ached but his head reasoned, ‘You can’t keep him to yourself.  He needs all of us.  Lucas, Dustin, and Max.  Keeping this will divide them all further and you know it.’  

But it hurt to say it.   “We said just for a little while before.  You know how well that worked out.”  

Mike looked away.  He never should have let Will drive him around to get drunk.  None of this would have been a problem.  Will would have kept it between them, without question.  Mike knew it… another secret would be the last straw for the guys, especially Lucas.  But he felt embarrassed just thinking about what they might say.  He didn’t want to think about standing in front of them and admitting to this.  It was too much.  

Will sighed, “I thought I was good at keeping stuff inside.  I used to think I was like a safe with my secrets, but when it comes to you, Mike, I’m an open fucking book.  They’ll read me and they’ll know.  I want to keep it, I really do, but it won’t work.”

Mike was clutching his hair at the scalp.  They were damned either way.  Why couldn’t they at least have a little time to themselves?  

Will continued, “Listen, I’m really grateful for last night.  I needed it.  But I’m okay now.  We can just leave it there and not talk about it again.  But, if it is something that you want to keep doing, we need to tell them.  It’s up to you.  Whatever you want to do.”  

Mike looked up, feeling trapped.  He hated both options.  Couldn’t there be a third?  Wasn’t there something else they could do?  He knew he was still boiling and he wanted space.  He wanted to give himself time to think.  He got up and said, tight lipped, “I’m gonna go take a shower.”  He grabbed a towel from the hallway and shut the door.  

Will stared down the hallway.  His thoughts and emotions were crashing over him and he had to move, to distract himself, or he would be consumed. Will start taking down the fort building up the blankets. It helped in much the same way that cleaning his room did when he felt like this. Getting things in order, even small things helped somewhat anyway.

He scolded himself, ‘Why didn’t you just say yes? How long had he kept your identity a secret? He waited for you to tell the guys. He waited until you were ready. You can’t do the same for him?’

Will snapped the blanket, as if trying to snap away the thought. He reasoned, ‘This is different and you know it.’

But the regret remained. ________

Mike kept turning the knob for hot water all the way over, trying to get the water to heat up faster but it was taking forever. A sick feeling laid in his guy.  He hated fighting with Will and he hated what they were fighting about.  Mike hadn’t quite realized how much he didn’t want to let this arrangement go.  How happy the idea of getting these small moments of contact.  How much he wanted them and wanted to keep them.

He tried to play out the scenario in his head. What if they did tell him? He could see color rising in Dustin’s cheeks and anger cemented on Lucas’s brow.  

‘You’re gonna fucking kill him!’  His imagined Lucas shouted.  And Mike’s fist flew at the tile wall.  It was a jerk reaction to shake the thought away.  But the punch landed and the old pain returned.  The scabs from Monday opened up again.  There was a feeling that followed, a quiet in his mind, a focus on the blood.  A dark feeling that whispered he deserved this.  He could see why people cut.  He could understand why it had been so hard for Will to stop.  There was such a strong temptation.  

His mind played a new scenario.  One where he and Will kept their distance.  They stopped this contact and resumed the status quo. He could see Will withdrawing.  And a ripple went through him. He couldn’t do that to Will again.  He didn’t want to have to pretend anymore.  He didn’t want to leave Will with this alone.   ___________

Will took a pile of folded blankets to the closet.  When he passed by his mom’s room, he noticed the open door and still-made bed.  Terror gripped him.  

She didn’t come home last night.  

He dropped the blankets and flew to the window.  Her car wasn’t there.  He tried to calm himself.  Where would she had gone?  Who would have seen her last?

Hopper.  He picked up the phone and called the number he’d memorized.  The line rung for what felt like forever and a groggy Hopper answered, “Hello?”

“Hopper?  It’s Will.  Have you seen Mom?  She didn’t come home last night!  Her car isn’t here and-”

He seemed instantly sobered, “Kid, kid.  It’s okay.” He reassured, gently, “She’s here.  She stayed the night.”

Will was stunned.  She never stayed out.  She always came home.  And she hadn’t even told him.  He didn’t know how to feel.  

“She… last night I was… I… wasn’t in my right… I’m sorry, kid.  She set an alarm that went off at 6.  I think she was gonna just stay for a few hours and come back.  I was the one who shut it off.  I’m sorry you had to worry.”

Will felt frustrated and filled with remorse.  This is what he would be leaving his mom with when he went to college.  All she would have left was this broken man.  Who was supposed to take care of her?  They almost had something close to normal.  They had almost been a family.  He knew he would have been able to keep his words in check if it hadn’t been from the already overflowing emotions from the morning.  

They spilled over.  “You’re all she’s gonna have left, you know that?  She has spent her entire life trying to take care of us and now we’re gonna be gone and all she’s have left is you.  But you aren’t even you anymore.  You’re nothing but an empty shell that you fill with booze.  How is that fair to her?!  How am I supposed to leave?!  I hate this!  I hate all of this!”  

“Will.  I’m sorry-”

“No! Goddamnit, no!  Don’t.  You were the closest thing to a father I’ve had.  And seeing you fall apart like this!  I hate it!  I don’t want to hear that you’re sorry.  I know you are!  If you really feel sorry, stop drinking!  I want you back!  I want my family back.”  He could hear him about to say something but Will didn’t want to listen.  He wanted to have the last word for once.  He hung up the phone.  For good measure he slammed the phone on the receiver again.  

He felt fingertips reaching for his.  He whipped his head around and saw Mike, soaking hair and face dripping with water and empathy.  Mike held Will’s hand in his.  

Will felt his anger cool into remorse.  Why could he just have his anger?  Why did it always slip through his fingers?  Why did it turn into tears?  He wished he could have that red hot anger that his mother and brother had.  The kind that was taken seriously.  The kind that had a power to it.  But not Will.  He tried his best to hold everything still on his face, to keep the scowl, to hold his throat tight and the tears in.

But Mike held Will’s head in his hand and he felt weak and the tears spilled.  Mike pulled him to his chest, overwhelmed again by just how much he wanted to shelter him and carry him through these moments.  His cheek was resting on his hair and he said, “We’ll tell them, Will.”

Will tried to break out of the grasp, “I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not out of pity. It’s-”  He relaxed his arms but kept his hand at the back of Will’s head, his fingers still intertwined in his hair.  He looked at Will, trying to form the words, but he was at a loss.  He whispered, “I don’t want to lose this.”  He tried to bring Will close again, he let him.  Will was transfixed by what Mike was saying.  He leaned his forehead in until it was touching Will’s and he felt like his heart was on fire.  “I’m terrified to tell them.  I’m not ready but… I don’t want to give this up.”

Will felt like he was swimming, like he was both heavy and weightless at the same time.  All the anger and sadness from a moment ago was still there, but he felt swept up in a wave of gratitude.  He would have Mike for these moments.  And Mike would have him for them, as well.  He felt Mike’s breath on his lips, and he nuzzled into Mike’s forehead, their noses brushing against each other.  And he could feel it again, the static between them and something was different from last night.  The nervousness was still there, but also acceptance, an embrace for the possible, an openness.  He wasn’t sure how he knew, perhaps the stillness, Mike's willingness to stay close.  

Will had closed the distance between them once before.  It had been short and quick, rushed and out of frustration and confusion.  But this time, he brought his lips to Mike’s slowly, and when they pressed against his, it was gentle.  He hoped Mike could see that he was leaving the door open.  If he wanted to pull away, or change his mind, he could.  Mike answered by pressing his lips back of holding Will’s head tighter, holding him closer.  

Will wrapped his arms around Mike, hoping he’d never have to let go.  

Mike pulled away for a second to look at him.  He had to be clear, Will needed to know.  “I don’t know if I can do a relationship again, Will.  I don’t know if-”

“I know, Mike.  It’s okay.”  He let his hand brush against Mike’s face and could feel him relax under the touch.  “I’m happy with this.  Whatever it is and for however long.  I’m happy.”

Mike smiled, “Me too.”

And they were.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Ray ray ray, i just had a thought, what if LoW meets Pirates of the Caribbean. Toni Stark builds her own ship the Iron Queen, she sails the seas cause she loves the freedom and the wind in her hair, she deals with merpeople and steals from the rich. Toni Stark is the Pirate King, some say she is Calypso herself, others say that she holds the heart of the sea and she built the Iron Queen from her own bones. Toni Stark has sailed across all tge seas, living and dead and inbetween.

Okay okay so I would tweak it a bit but it’d go a little something like this:

Toni Stark who grew up the daughter of a socialite and a rich merchant, who would rather sail and forge and do any and everything Howard and Maria told her not to.

Because she hates it, hates every minute of being forced to smile and simper and bow to polite society while Howard sells her ship designs under his name.

But no one cares because she’s a woman, because she’s beautiful, because Howard’s always taken care to never hurt her face.

Toni’s always been a creature of freedom, has always been one who itches for the salt of the sea, for the wind and the water, for the sun on her skin even if it does fly in the face of propriety and fashion.  She’d rather have all of that and the hard work that comes with it than the gilded cage Howard and Maria would see her trapped in.

Especially when it comes out that Howard intends on marrying her off to the odious Justin Hammer in order to unite the Hammer/Stark companies under one large umbrella.

So Toni, unwilling to have that choice stolen from her as well, plots and plans. And when the time’s right, some three days before her wedding, she packs her bags, grabs the cart of supplies she’s been hoarding in plain sight thanks to a few friendly servants and heads for the docks.

Only, she doesn’t end up going alone.

Rhodey, a guard employed by the company and her best friend no matter how people wail and gnash their teeth over the impropriety of their relationship, comes with her.

Toni drives the cart right up to his small house on the outskirts of town and slips through his door with practiced ease to wake him up.  He takes one look at her breeches, her hair bundled up under a dark scarf, at the saber on her waist that he himself taught her how to use, the pistols on her belt, the cart outside the door and the manic glint in her eyes and just sighs.  He comes up off his pallet, gets dressed, and grabs the small chest sitting by his wash basin already packed.

“Baby girl I’ve known you for an age,” Rhodey tells her as she blinks at him in surprise, “knew you weren’t gonna marry that rat one way or the other.  Figured you’d either run him through with a blade or I would do it for you.  Or that you’d take off in the night.  Either way I was always coming with you.”

And gods above does she love him for that.

So they go, together, with only one more stop along the way.

Virginia “Pepper” Hogan nee’ Potts was always kind to Toni, was always a friend, and when she was shunned by polite society for daring to marry below her status for love well Toni had told everyone who could hear to fuck off and promptly hired her husband to be her official guard when she went out to town.  Toni doesn’t really need protection but Harold “Happy” Hogan is a good man, a sweet and kind man, who looks at Pepper with stars in his eyes and if that was the best way to help them then so be it.

Pepper, red hair tied back in a braid, answers Toni’s knock, takes one look at her and Rhodey on the doorstep, and turns to yell for Happy.  “It’s time,” she calls back into the house, much to Toni’s confusion, but there’s an answering grunt from Happy who comes out of the back room with two big chests stacked in his arms a few moments later.

“Well,” Pepper says as she tightens her shawl around her shoulder, “I hope there’s room in the cart.”

And all Toni can do is laugh.

So, together with her only friends, Toni clicks the reigns on the pony and sets them back off towards the docks.

Her newest ship, the best, fastest, most beautiful vessel she’s ever designed has finally finished production and should be sitting at the docks, unnamed and lightly guarded thanks to a few gold pieces here and there, just ripe for the taking.

And take her is just what Toni intends to do.

Only they get to the dock and it’s absolutely empty, not a soul in sight.

Except for movement in the shadow of the dock right beside the ship.

Beside her Rhodey stiffens and reaches for the pistol at his waist.

But then Toni sucks in a sharp breath because out of the shadows steps the last person Toni expected to see.

Jarvis.

Sweet Jarvis still dressed in his fine uniform, grey at his temples and shoulders straight.

Jarvis who, along with his wife Ana, practically raised her.  Jarvis who had snuck her out into the inlet and taught her how to sail after she begged and begged him.  Ana who taught her how to shoot, steady and true.

Jarvis and Ana who loved her in ways Howard and Maria never did.

“Hurry, young miss,” Jarvis waves a hand at her and the others even as he strides forward and around to the back of the cart to start lifting supplies down, “we’ve only a few hours before first light and then not even I will have been able to pay everyone who might see you for their silence.”

It’s a whirl wind of movement then as they unpack the cart and haul things onto the ship and ready her for sail.

And, right before they’re about to set off, Toni can’t help but stop in front of Jarvis.

“Come with us, with me,” she practically begs him, the only father she’s ever know.  “You and Ana both.  There’s still time.  Please.”

“Oh, sweet girl,” Jarvis raises a hand up to cup her cheek in a gentle palm, “my place is here, with Ana.  And we both know she’s too sick to sail.  No, this is a journey you’ll have to take on your own.  For now.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Toni admits.

“But you will,” Jarvis says firmly.  “Because it’s what’s best. For all of you.  There’s no place for you here, my sweet Icarus girl.  You need to fly.  Not be caged with yet another monster who will delight in clipping your wings.  By more cruelty that will see your wings melted and destroyed.”

“I’ll write to you,” Toni tells him because they both know he’s right, “every chance I get.”

“And I’ll write back and,” Jarvis takes an unsteady breath, “when Ana’s time comes … I’ll send word and then … then I’ll see if these old bones still remember the rhythm of the sea.”

Tears in her eyes Toni throws herself at him, wraps her arms around his waist and just clings.

“I love you, Jarvis,” Toni whispers.  “Father.”

“Oh, child,” Jarvis presses a kiss against her temple, “I love you too.”

He pulls back, thumbs the tears from her cheeks, and smiles.

“Now,” He smiles down at her, eyes watery, “remember what I taught you and go.  Fly swift and true, not too high but not too low.  Be free, Toni. Be safe. And, above all else, be happy.”

And so she does.

She leaves him there on the dock as they go, leaves him standing, one hand raised, as he watches them set sail.

And it’s good, for months it’s so so good. Toni and her little family, her little crew, are happy and free despite how exhausting it is to run even such an advanced ship as the one she designed with so little crew.  But they do it anyways thanks to her designs and their strength.  They do it and then at night they dance and laugh and drink and in the mornings they sail, sail, sail.

Toni writes letters by the book load on paper Jarvis himself must’ve stocked the Captain’s quarters with along with the proverbial gold mine of other things he’d apparently loaded onto the ship in secret.  She write and writes and writes to him, posting bundles of letters every time they stop in a port for one reason or another.

She is happy and free and this, this is what her life was always supposed to be like.

And then, some six months out, the news comes to her, a whisper at first that fills her with horror.

It’s not until she finds a newspaper that she accepts it as truth because it’s writ there, in black and white, for all the world to see.

Stark Butler Executed For Theft And Kidnapping.  Stark Heiress Presumed Dead.

And there, below the headline, is a sketch of a hauntingly familiar gallows.

And Toni’s entire world crumbles around her.

~~~

Two months later whispers begin to travel around the islands and the ports.

Whispers of an unsinkable black ship with red sails.

Whispers of a Captain so beautiful she must be a siren or maybe even Calypso herself come to punish them for their sins.  So fierce and strong and unflinching that all they can think to name her is the Iron Queen.

Whispers of her first mate and her crew, fiercely loyal and perhaps, just perhaps, unable to be killed.  (Sea magic some say.  A curse others are sure.)

Whispers of curling gold letters on a black hull.

Whispers of how to spot The Avenger off your bow is to see Death herself sailing across the waters.

~~~

None of the whispers bring Toni more than small bits of satisfaction.  Not when there’s so much still left to do.  So much to see and fight and change.  So much water to learn and magic and secrets to uncover.

But her crew has grown, is a proper sized crew now, the ship manned by people they picked up along the way in this scrape or on that adventure.

And all of them are loyal to her, to The Avenger, to their own unique sets of rules.

And it doesn’t bring Jarvis or Ana back but tides it’s a good start towards righting that wrong.

~~~

And, eventually, if she runs across Steve and Bucky?

Well … that is a story for another time.

BUY ME A COFFEE

http://ko-fi.com/rayshippouuchiha

[bonesborne]

(NO MORE) HUNGER

The itch has slowly become unbearable.

Yudha spends his night tossing and turning in his bed. Perhaps it is the perk of sleeping alone, rooms away from his daughter: he doesn’t have to be gentle in his nightmare, no fear of waking up his daughter with his consistent movements in the bed. Still, Yudha would rather have no nightmares at all.

They come and go, sometimes in a form of jumbled memories, and other times, they are fragments of scenarios unfamiliar to Yudha. A memento of his forgotten past, mayhaps? Or an omen of what is about to come? Yudha doesn’t feel like dwelling on such depressing thoughts at 2 AM in the morning, yet that’s all he can do when he’s wide awake.

The house is too silent to his likings. No sound of any other living beings other than him. Yudha is used to listening the sound of Danise’s steady breathing that having her in her own room makes him feel a tad lost. Tonight, however, only the sound of the leaves rustling accompanies his restless night. The itch remains strong and it gnaws on him, inch by inch, leaving no room to breathe. It’s… too peaceful, and Yudha doesn’t like this at all.

He never knew peace. Based on what he’s heard from his past acquaintances about the person he used to be, Yudha strived out of ambition. He forged on and on, until he lost everything, yet that alone was unable to stop him. Yudha (or rather, Mikael?) knew no idleness, and by pushing himself forward, he kept himself alive. It wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but it worked on him, to some degree.

If there is a way to maintain peace solely for his daughter without disturbing his yearning for action, Yudha would’ve seized the chance in his fist.

He kisses his daughter goodbye and leaves a short message to her, shall she wake up before Yudha gets home. It’s only a quick visit, Yudha assures himself, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. What he needs to do is let some steam out before it gets too much for him, before it bounds back like a fucking boomerang towards him.

The gym is deserted, but only as expected from someone who comes in at 2 AM in the morning. Yudha has long since swapped his usual attires for his workout ones, sans for the boxing gloves, because he doesn’t need any. He needs to feel the pain of having his knuckles scraped raw, as well as the sting that comes after once the adrenaline wears off. It’s what keeps him alive.

To lose himself in the haze that clouds his head is fairly easy. Yudha prides himself for that, the ability to shift his focus into one, single-minded vision that zeroes to the punching bag hung in front of him. One punch after another slowly drags Yudha into a haze, the world blurs into the background. The strain on his arms and wrists, the way his bare knuckles make impacts against the punching bag; they all soothe the ache in his bones. Gritting his teeth, Yudha lands the last hit with a grunt, causing the punching bag to sway deliberately.

“Whoa, you okay, champ?”

The voice is unfamiliar to his ears, causing Yudha to flinch. Perhaps this is the downside of running on adrenaline; Yudha slides into a familiar stance, both hands raised up in front of him as if to fend for himself. The ache in his arms sends a slight pang through him and it’s a good kind of pain.

“Hey, no, calm down,” the man huffs, both hands raised high. “I own this place and I mean no harm.”

“Oh.” Sluggishly, Yudha lowers his fists. His heartbeat thrums loud in his ears, still full of anticipation. “Sorry, man, you surprised me, that’s all.” It seems like his fight or flight response is still up and running.

“I can see.” The owner stares at him for a long time before throwing a bundle of hand wrap to Yudha. “You’re gonna hurt yourself like that, man. Getting blood on the kits.”

The thought didn’t even cross Yudha’s mind. “Ah,” Yudha says, glancing down at his chafed knuckles. His fingers flex and the pain causes him to grimace. Good, this makes him feel alive. “Sorry about that.”

There is a good distance between the two of them, but the gaze directed by the owner is a tad unsettling for Yudha. As if the man knows things about Yudha that even Yudha himself doesn’t know. Has he met this person before the accident?

No point in trying to remember. His past is nothing but a mere insignificant buzz.

“No worries. Hey, are you going to stay here longer? I’m about to head home⸻”

“No, I’m fine. I’m done for the night.”

There it is again, the knowing glance. Yudha says nothing of it and packs his stuff up. “Alright then,” the man says, keys jingling, "let's go."

Yudha has no idea why he bothers waiting for the owner to close up. But he does, standing unmoving on the curbside. “Thank you,” he says after a lengthy silence. His raw knuckles are stiff when Yudha makes a fist with his hands. Everything is going just as he’s expected. Well, except the owner coming to his face when Yudha was deep in his dazed state.

“You’re welcome.” A smile shows up at last. The owner points at the back of his shoulder with his thumb. “You need a ride?”

Rule number sixteen: no hitchhiking. Yudha might have served in a task force, but he’s not going to give himself away like that. “No, I’m good. Have a great,” he trails off, checking the sky for the stars position, “morning.”

“You too.”

Yudha makes his way home not long after. The walk back home is more brief than he’s imagined, as if he’s running on autopilot. It’s adrenaline, he supposes, still running thick in his vein. The rush makes his blood sing and Yudha has to take a deep breath to calm himself down. He does sit on the edge of the bed, meticulously wrapping a bandage around his knuckles lest Danise catches him bleeding. It won’t end well.

The itch is sated. Nothing bothers him anymore.