#this dude hasn’t been in the house in a month and we’ve all been chilling

[iburprofan]

Baby girl you wouldn’t begin to fathom the trauma my f*ther bestowed on to me

#/hj #this dude hasn’t been in the house in a month and we’ve all been chilling #the calmest we have all been in a while

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Eight)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, someone gets punched by someone,

Notes: Enjoy this chapter guys:) Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr

© taestefully-in-luv

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The room you are in is as cold and empty as you feel. The one single table with 3 chairs, 2 on one side and the one you are currently occupying across from them. The room feels chilling like ghosts haunt it. Maybe they do, you think. The silence is truly deafening and the wait for these 2 other chairs to be filled makes you anxious. It’s been a few months since you have been back here and it makes you uncomfortable each time but you know little by little you are receiving answers.

Finally, after a long wait the heavy door to the room screeches open. And in comes a man and woman in professional clothing—he in a suit and the woman in a dress suit. They smile at you awkwardly like they feel pity. They both pull out their chair and take a seat.

“Have you found it yet? The island?” you’re quick to blurt out and they nervously look at one another before frowning.

“It isn’t that easy unfortunately Miss y/l/n. We’ve been in search of this company for over 50 years.” The woman taps her fingers on the table. “We have yet to find them or this island you speak of.”

You can’t help the scoff that escapes you as you roll your eyes to the side.

“What kind of intel agency is this? You can’t even find some lame ass fucking love company.” You spit out.

The man hardens his eyes at you as he takes a long, deep breath. Obviously trying to gather his patience.

“Here’s what we do know.” He begins. “They tapped your home, your cell, all of your accounts and spied on you for over a year. Doing their…” he pauses, biting his lip. “Research…”

“And drugged you and your parents the night of the kidnapping.” The woman picks up where he left off, “And then they drugged you again to return you home and also your parents…assuming so it wasn’t to wake them while they were in your home…” she gulps…she understands how invasive this all is.

“You didn’t think to set up cameras around my parent’s house? For when they would return me? You didn’t think to keep an eye—”

“We did.” The man clears his throat, “But they….” He drags his hand down his tired face, “This company is smart. They obviously know what they are doing. The night of your return the cameras we had set up miraculously stopped working.”

You can’t help the laughter that erupts from your body. You begin shaking your head in disbelief, your laughter dying when you realize how serious this is.

“This is fucking bullshit.” You say with a tight lip smile. “Anyway…do you…do you guys…did you look into what I asked of you?” your eyes slide to the side as you nervously pull at the ends of your hair.

“The man you were with? Kim Taehyung…yes, we looked into it. We have been working with Korea’s intel in hopes to solve this case. He has been working together with them. I cannot release any personal information though.” The woman eyes her partner and her frown deepens. “Miss y/l/n…I know this is difficult and you two have been through a lot together. But I am sure you can find a way to reach out—”

“I just wanted to know how he is doing is all.” You cut her off, “It’s fine.”

~~~~~

You stare at the letter in your hands, it’s an off white color and the font in quite fancy. Your parents let you see it a few weeks after you returned home but every night you take it in your hands and stare at it. Not knowing how to take it. The company sent it to them the day you disappeared…explaining the company’s goals. They sent photos of you and Taehyung every week to prove you were alive and well. Your parents said this is what kept them sane…trusting you were okay because they couldn’t—wouldn’t accept any other reality.

Your heart aches thinking of what your parents must have been through but not just them…your sister found out through your mom and dad about the situation and she grew so worried without you. When she found out you were returned home she immediately came to you, sobbing in your arms and hasn’t left you since.

You set the letter down and pick up the pile of photos on your night stand…it’s a thick stack. You begin shuffling through them and you feel like someone has stabbed you in the chest with a dull knife and they begin to carve your heart out. It’s slow and painful…they finally take your slow beating heart and squeeze it in their hands, blood spilling and spilling. Killing you.

Some photos are just of you but majority you are accompanied by Taehyung and seeing his smiling face makes you relieve the experience of getting your heart carved out of your chest.

You glance up at your ceiling as tears begin building in your eyes, you try to blink them back, your eyes opening and closing repeatedly. But it’s no use, not when you feel this lost and hopeless. Suddenly, there is knocking on your bedroom door and your father is walking in.

“Ready sweetie? Got the rest of your things?” He steps into the room, a worried expression on his face but he tries to hide it behind a forced smile. “We should get going.”

You quickly sniffle and nod your head, shoving the stack of photos and letter into your backpack before you’re swinging it over your shoulders.

“Yup, ready.”

It’s moving day. Thankfully you found another job in your old town that you lived in, you found a new, better apartment that is close to where you use to live, you finally are getting out of your parents hair.

“Alright let’s get this show on the road!” your dad pats you on the back as you walk past him. He’s got the truck loaded and ready to go for the couple hour drive. Back to the city!

~

“This place is so much nicer than your last!” Your sister sets a box down on your new kitchen counter, “You actually have a decent sized kitchen! Not that you really cook.” She laughs.

“Hey!” you whine, “I told you I learned quite a bit of cooking while on the island.”

“You also told me that your boyfriend cooked a lot too…so I’ll just assume he did all the work.” She teases and your face falls.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” Your lips curls so far down that it’s almost comical but alas, it is not because you feel your eyes sting.

“Sorry…” your sister walks to the living room, joining you. She reaches for the box in your arms and sets it down on the floor. “y/n…just message him.”

“…I can’t.” you feel your chest start to burn, “The way things got left…I don’t know how to speak to him.” you admit. “and it’s been so long. If he hasn’t already moved on then he at least hates my guts.”

“Yeah I probably would too.” Your sister nods her head and you swat her arm.

“Thanks Ellie.” You deadpan. “Anyway, I just can’t.”

“He is probably waiting for you…he loves you.”

“You don’t know him?” you laugh quietly, “So how would you know?”

“I’ve seen the pictures of you two, in the moment pictures, and dude, he looks so taken with you in every single one.”

You can’t help the way your heart drops to your stomach. You told him you thought your feeling may not be real…those are some of your last words to him and that kills you. Without a doubt he has had to have moved on from you…why would he torture himself?

~

Later that night you are snuggled up in your bed with your sister snoozing beside you. You have your phone (Damn you missed this device) and are scrolling through Taehyung’s Instagram. You notice he posted a new group photo just 4 hours ago. You look at all the tags and see all his friends…Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, Jimin and Jungkook. But there are also a few girls in the photo. You notice the tag for Hana. You hate that your heart completely stops beating in your chest then suddenly starts racing. Hana. He’s hanging out with Hana? Wait, why are you surprised? You take a deep breath and click her name to view her page and then that’s when your heart really stops. Her most recent photo is of her and Taehyung, their faces smooshed together with wide smiles on their faces with the caption “Missed you.” With pink hearts.

She’s pretty. Really fucking pretty. No wonder Taehyung liked her. Liked? Or likes? Are they together now? They look awfully close. You feel your eyes sting for the millionth time this day and they begin to bubble with tears. This is your fault. You pushed him away, so far away, into another woman’s arms. You start to feel lost and hopeless again…you decide stalking Taehyung through social media probably isn’t the healthiest thing for you or your heart. You continue scrolling on Hana’s page…she has lots of photos with friends, pretty Korean scenery, selfies and more. She looks lively and beautiful, oh so fucking beautiful.

You exit the app and click your phone off. You squeeze your eyes shut and a few pathetic tears that you do not deserve slide out and down your face. You really need to move on, you really need to focus on you. But how can you when a huge part of you feels like it’s been ripped from you? Taehyung was a part of you and you think he still is. You feel crushed, fucking crushed. He is probably with Hana now and you absolutely cannot blame him.

Taehyung is doing fine. Just fine. With or without you. And that reality is setting in and it hurts. It fucking hurts. But you have no one to blame but yourself.

“Why are you doing this, huh? Things were so perfect.” He stops in front of you and pulls you up by the arms. Your chests almost touch from how close you are. “Unless…” he looks down at his feet, “You’re saying all of this because that’s how you feel. You’re the one unsure of your feelings. You’re the one who only likes me—loves me—because there’s no one else.” He looks into your eyes, searching for an answer.

“Maybe.” You finally say. And you wish you didn’t because Taehyung releases a shaky breath and his brows crease together as he forms the saddest smile you have ever seen. The canvas of his life is full of beautiful bright colors but you continue to splatter blue and grey paint all over it. The paint mixes together and drips down, a gloomy mess.

“Oh.” He steps back. “I see.” He takes another step back, carding his fingers through his hair. He looks into your eyes as his gloss over, “I’ll leave you alone then.” And he turns around and walks out of the room, leaving you behind.

Why does this scene replay in your mind every single day. Every single night. His sad, sad expression leaving an ever lasting imprint in your mind. You feel broken, but you also feel angry. How dare the company send you back when you and Taehyung have so much to resolve? What is the purpose? What are their intentions? You ball the sheets in your hands as you release breath after frustrated breath. What was the point of all this? Somewhere deep in your gut you feel like this isn’t over. You feel like the company still has some ties to you…you can’t explain it…just a gut feeling.

To say you hate yourself is an understatement. You truly can’t stand to even look yourself in the mirror. You ruined the best thing that has ever happened to you—Taehyung. But you should be happy, right? He’s doing well. He has his friends, his family, Hana. He is absolutely 100% doing just fine and you have to accept that.

~~~~~

“You can’t live like this dude.” Namjoon throws a trash bag on to Taehyung’s bed, signaling him to use it.

“Yeah…Joon is right.” Jimin starts picking up some trash off the floor…mostly empty food containers. “This is getting out of hand. I know things haven’t been easy—”

Jimin is cut off with Taehyung groaning loudly and dramatically. He lifts his head off his pillow, his face evident with sleep as he eyes his two friends in his apartment.

“Get up.” Namjoon lightly kicks the bed with his foot, “And open a damn window or something.”

“And maybe take a shower. You reek of this hangover I am sure you have…” Jimin sits down on the edge of the bed, his hand going to Taehyung’s back, rubbing it soothingly. “She isn’t coming around Tae.” Jimin says as softly as possible, “She isn’t—”

“We don’t know that.” Taehyung cuts him off, grumbling. “She could.”

“You said it yourself, she isn’t sure of her feelings…why aren’t you letting it go?” Namjoon sits down on the bed as well.

“I know her.” Taehyung begins to sit up from his place in bed, his hand flying up to his pounding head. “Fuck. I’m hungover.” He complains.

“You went too hard last night.” Jimin frowns, “Again.”

“So what? You think she lied to you? That she does love you?”

“She was just scared.” Taehyung whispers. “Trust me, I know her.” He repeats again.

Jimin and Namjoon share a look of pity mixed with concern. Jimin stands from the bed, taking the trash bag with him, he opens it up and starts filling it with the garbage around the apartment. Taehyung just watches Jimin clean up and he starts to feel a sense of guilt. Maybe he has been a handful the last few months.

Taehyung is trying his best though.

The unfamiliar bed along with the unfamiliar room was indication enough that Taehyung was in a place without you. It only took him halves of seconds to realize he was in his parents’ home in their spare room. A place he didn’t frequent very often. But he understood his situation right away. The island returned him home to Korea but suddenly this place feels like the last place like home.

When he made his existence known to his mother and father they cried over and over for their son. His father going on about his regrets, how he wishes he would have supported Taehyung more in following his own dreams and so on. His mother wishing she had cooked his favorite meal more often. They basically took his disappearance on the island as his death. At least that’s how Taehyung sees it.

His parents’ received the letter as well, even the photographs. They know all about you. They know that Taehyung is in love, they know Taehyung heart aches. They know everything. They were honestly rooting for you two…they could see how much love went on between the two of you even through pictures.

But as the days went on, as the weeks went on and as the months went on, Taehyung started to feel like he is withering away with every day that passed that you did not reach out to him. Did your time on the island with him mean nothing to you? Even if you ‘maybe’ weren’t in love with him like you claimed you were still friends for god’s sake. You still without a doubt had a powerful connection.

Things have been hard. Really fucking hard. But nothing is harder than the day when the Korean intel agency notified him that you were good, that you were okay. That you were home. But they could not release any personal information. You were home…you were okay…but you still have not reached out? He’s relieved you’re well but that also comes with the disappointment that you are choosing to stay to yourself.

“Yoongi wants to work on that new song tonight, what do you say?” Namjoon stands from the bed as well and makes his way into the small kitchen for a glass of water.

“Not in the mood.” Taehyung mumbles underneath his breath.

“Listen Taehyung…” Namjoon walks back into the room, his hands crossed over his chest as he looks at Taehyung with narrowed eyes.

“If you’re serious about this, being with her, that is. Then fucking do something about it.” Namjoon continues to stare down at him while Jimin keeps cleaning.

“I don’t have her number, I can’t find her anywhere on the internet and I barely know where she lives. What the fuck can I do?” Taehyung grits out, raising his voice just the slightest as he talks.

“….There has to be something.” Jimin speaks up. “A clue.”

“A fucking clue? What are we? Fucking detectives?” Taehyung throws his hands up, frustrated.

“Jimin’s right.” Namjoon uncrosses his arms and runs a hand through his hair, “She must have mentioned something, anything. You have to think.”

“You think I have the mental capability to think right now?” Taehyung questions with a bitter chuckle. “She doesn’t do much. She never mentioned some grand event she goes to every year, she didn’t mention what school she went to, she didn’t mention what company she worked for, she didn’t fucking mention anything. She stays to herself.” Then Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“You know I use to go to this coffee place almost every single day. I miss it. That routine. It’s called ------------…a small, family owned shop. Only one of its kind. I would read, write, journal. Just relax. Every day.” You breathe out, missing your comfort spot.

Taehyung rushes to stand from the bed, he is quick to scoop Jimin up in his arms and place a dramatic kiss to his cheek.

“Jimin you fucking genius!” Taehyung suddenly remembered the night you had a panic attack. When you calmed down enough to speak you told him all the things you missed about your real life. Including some coffee place you would frequent on the regular. But he cannot remember the name of it for the life of him.

“What? What?” Jimin starts giggling, “Why?”

“A coffee shop! She used to go to a coffee shop!” Taehyung basically yells in excitement.

“Okay, what’s it called?” Namjoon smiles and immediately Taehyung expression turns sour.

“I…I don’t remember. But it was family owned, only one of its kind.”

Namjoon can’t help the frown that decorates his face but then he tries to smile.

“Better start doing your research lover boy.”

~

“Cozy Coffee. It’s in (Your city).” Taehyung slams a sheet of paper onto the bar top in front of Namjoon. “I found it.”

“What’d you find?” Jin asks from besides him, “Wait that place y/n goes to?”

Taehyung nods his head quickly with a wide ass smile adoring his face.

“Yup.”

“Now what, kid?” Yoongi brings his beer to his lips as he takes a generous sip. “You going to call that place and ask for her?” he laughs a little.

“No.” Taehyung straightens his back as he speaks. “I’m going there.”

“You’re…” Hobi begins but stops when he sees how serious Taehyung is.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jungkook starts shaking his head. “This girl—”

“y/n.” Taehyung snaps.

“Right…” Jungkook gulps. “y/n…she ignores you these last 6 months and you are still trying to be with her?”

All of the boys share looks with one another, frowns on everyone’s faces.

“Jungkook is right—”

“Tae told her he would do whatever it takes…he also believes in her feelings. So let’s believe in him.” Jimin cuts in, his hand going to Taehyung’s shoulder and giving him a smile.

“Jimin is right…” Namjoon breathes out, “Let’s trust in our Taehyungie.”

“But don’t forget what she did to you Taehyung.” Jungkook whispers seriously. “You weren’t okay…”

Another day passes and still, nothing from you. Taehyung brings yet another bottle of soju to his mouth as he starts downing it. He feels his world collapsing around him. He feels how everything around him is cracking and breaking apart. But the most cracked, broken thing is him. He looks at himself in the mirror and stares into his empty eyes, these same eyes that used to gaze at you. These same eyes that saw your smile, laugh, cry. These same eyes that undressed you. These same eyes that saw you coming undone over and over. These same eyes.

Taehyung chugs back his drink, his eyes never leaving his reflection as he finishes the bottle. He made a mistake tonight, a drunken mistake but a mistake nonetheless. He slept with Hana. Taehyung, the boys and Hana and her girlfriends were all at the bar tonight and he just doesn’t see her that way. Yet, he was inside her just an hour ago. He slowly closes his eyes, regret and guilt filling his entire being. What the fuck did he do?

His life is all over the place, a mess, if you will. A big, fat messy mess. He got a new apartment, leaving his parents’ house and he doesn’t think he has cleaned it even once since moving in. He drowns in alcohol, he drowns in unfinished songs, he drowns in his friends concerns and mostly? He drowns in you.

He stares at your photographs an unhealthy amount. He has cried over your photos countless times, he has touched himself to them too. Somehow that is more satisfying than the sex he just shared with Hana. The empty fuck he just gave her haunts him in this very mirror. Did he betray you? Have you also fucked someone new? Have you moved on?

Taehyung stares at himself, hating what he sees. You’re doing this to him. He went from being miserably depressed to angry. He’s beginning to blame you for everything with rage. But as much as he wants to hate you—he does want to—he just can’t. He can’t gather that type of energy in your direction. He just can’t.

Hana looks very pretty tonight…she’s been trying extra hard lately, Taehyung thinks. She is always casually got a hand on his arm, she always finds a way to be standing next to him, talking to him, leaning into him. Taehyung isn’t stupid. She wants him still. She apparently dated during the 8 months he was gone but nothing serious came from it. And now here she is, sleeping on his bed as he drinks by himself in his bathroom mirror.

So many different thoughts have gone through Taehyung’s head. Is he hard to love? That’s the main question that came out of all of this. You spent every day with him for 8 months and you weren’t even sure of your feelings. Shouldn’t a person know by then? He’s trying to be understanding…he is trying so fucking hard to understand but how can he? When he is balls deep in love with you and he doesn’t have to question it at all.

He is spiraling, he is being sucked into a darkness that he can’t crawl out of. He looks at himself in the mirror again, his eyes narrowing at his own reflection—disgusted with what he sees. He grips the empty bottle of soju as he feels his eyes wet with tears. He grips on to the bottle harder and harder, tears now leaving his big brown eyes. He growls out, groaning in frustration as he lifts the bottle up and throws it at his mirror. Glass shattering everywhere.

Startled, Hana jumps from the bed and rushes to the loud sound, finding Taehyung just standing lifeless, continuing to eye himself in the broken mirror. He likes what he sees much better. The cracked glass making for a better reflection, a more accurate representation of what he truly sees when he views himself.

“What the fuck?!” Hana yells out, rushing to Taehyungs side. “Are you okay???”

Taehyung walks closer to the mirror and lightly slides his hand down the cracked mirror, his fingers careful not to get cut.

“No.” he answers honestly and quietly. “I’m not.”

“I’m fine, Jungkook.” Taehyung assures him, “At least I will be…when I see her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to see you?” Yoongi says quietly, worried for his friend. He brings his beer to the bar top and stares at the liquid.

“I’ll get to that when I get to that.” Taehyung sighs out…”I can’t let go of this until I know for sure.”

~~~~~~

Settling into your new job has been smooth, thankfully. It’s only been a few weeks but you can say you really like it. Your boss is an older woman, your coworkers seem nice and the work isn’t too taxing. Your apartment is starting to come together as well, only a few more boxes left to unpack. On the outside things are honestly going well…your life looks normal and put together. But on the inside you continue to fall apart.

“Come on!” Ellie whines, “Just give me one little, tiny, juicy detail.”

“Ew, no!” you laugh, “I have nothing to share!”

“Oh, bullshit.” Ellie takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing the smoke the other direction.

You two are sitting on your balcony, watching the evening sun set.

“You are trying to tell me you two didn’t fuck? Not even once?” Ellie gives you a knowing smile and you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay maybe once.”

“I call bullshit again.” Ellie starts to laugh, thrusting her hips forward theatrically, “I bet you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Something like that.” You admit shyly.

“I don’t blame you. He looks so hot.” Ellie takes another puff of her cigarette. “What was he like in bed?”

“Ugh, Ellie.” You groan, “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Afraid of getting horny thinking about it?” She chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“Fine, I’ll tell you one thing.” You hold one finger up, giving her a look that says you are serious. Ellie giggles, nodding her head in agreement.

“He’s…big.” You basically whisper.

“He’s what?”

“Shut up, you heard me.” You laugh, “First time I saw it he wasn’t even fully hard and I was impressed.” You smirk, feeling proud of Taehyung’s gorgeous dick.

“Damn girl. Nice.” Ellie nods in approval, “Did he know how to use it?”

“Ugh….yes.” you roll your eyes back, remembering the feel of his cock. “He did. Aaaannnd he is probably using it on his new girlfriend.” You sigh, feeling your heart break piece by piece in your chest.

“What? What do you mean???” Ellie puts her cigarette out in the ash tray, “New girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” You keep it short and simple. “Anyway, I really do not want to talk about him anymore.”

“…Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

You give your sister a sad, small smile and she returns it. You feel your phone buzz in your lap and you go to pick it up, you quite literally feel all the color drain from your face. Your heart stops completely. What the actual fuck? Why is he texting you? Him of all people?

~

Finally gathering the courage to buy his plane ticket, Taehyung begins packing for his trip. He got a roundtrip flight for one week. He has one week to find you. He’s starting to get nervous, really fucking nervous. He had all this confidence to do this but honestly? Over the last 6-7 months he has become quite insecure. You left him in shambles. He grew weak without you, he grew pathetic in his eyes.

“Make sure you bring plenty of underwear.” Jimin teases, helping Taehyung pack. “You never pack enough and somehow end up going commando.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Taehyung is too nervous to even joke around, he is too nervous to even look at Jimin—his best friend—for more than a second because he is afraid he is going to see right through him.

“You’re nervous.” Jimin blurts out and Taehyung opens his mouth in shock. But should he be? Jimin is his best friend, he can read him like a book.

“Yeah…”

“I think you have every right to be.” Jimin pats him on the shoulder, “You have been through a lot…and so much is unknown.”

“Yeah….” Taehyung agrees, “I feel like I’m walking into this blind.”

“You kind of are.” Jimin admits quietly. “You kind of are.”

“Do you think…I’m making a mistake?” Taehyung sits down on his bed, messing with the blanket between his fingers.

“No.” Jimin answers honestly. “I am probably the one who has heard about y/n the most. I almost feel like I know her.” Jimin laughs, “And I think you’re right. She was scared. This company…fuck that company by the way, this company set you two up and tried to force love on you. Of course that’s going to fuck her up. Of course she is going to have her doubts…you can’t blame her Tae. Yeah, it’s fucked up she hasn’t reached out at all but dude…it’s a tricky situation.”

“I know…” Taehyung’s head falls into his hands, “Fuck…I know.”

“And…” Jimin sits down next to him, “I don’t want you to regret not looking for her, it sucks that it’s you doing everything, I can admit that. I wish she would grow some fucking balls and talk to you but looks like you got to do all the work buddy.”

“Yeah.”

~

Taehyung checks into some dingy hotel downtown in the city you live, the place is dark, gritty even. But it’s just one of the first places that was affordable that popped up when he was googling places to stay. He doesn’t totally mind, he doubts he will be spending much time in here. He receives his key from the girl at the front desk, she eyes him up and down, obviously liking what she sees.

Taehyung walks down a dark hallway to reach his room—he’s starting to feel like the main character in a horror movie. He reaches his door and unlocks it, opening it and shuffling inside with his luggage. The room smells dusty, the bed is small and the blanket thin. The room is loud with the AC unit blowing freezing air and the dark curtains don’t let in any light whatsoever.

He sets his luggage down on the carpet and sits on the bed…he takes his phone out and sends a text to his group chat that he made it alive.

Namjoon 4:02pm

Good luck man, we’re rooting for you.

Jungkook 4:02pm

Fingers crossed homie

Jin 4:03pm

Bring her back to Korea

Yoongi 4:03pm

He can’t just bring her back Jin

Hobi 4:03pm

I also vote he brings her back with him

Jimin 4:04pm

I agree, I want to meet the infamous y/n

Taehyung 4:04pm

Am I also allowed to vote that I want to bring her back with me?

Taehyung quietly laughs to himself as he clicks his phone off. He lays back on the bed and groans when he feels how hard the mattress is. But it doesn’t matter because he is here on a mission, a mission to find you and he wants to waste no time.

~

Day 1:

Taehyung wakes up early to grab a bite to eat at the diner next to the hotel, this place doesn’t even offer complimentary breakfast! The audacity. He orders pancakes but they definitely aren’t as good as yours.

Waking up and breathing the same city air you’re breathing makes Taehyung for the first time in 6 months—feel alive. Like being in the same place as you is slowly helping him regain some of his self back. He knows you are here. You live here. You walk these streets, you eat these foods, you breathe this air. The same fucking air he is breathing.

Nothing excites him and makes him more nauseas. He misses you. He wants to see you. But he is afraid at the same time. He’s so fucking terrified. How will you react? Are you okay? Do you really not love him? Have you moved on? Seeing someone new? His mind races as he cuts into these pancakes.

Taehyung pulls out his phone and checks the time…almost 7 am. He needs to hurry to the coffee place…because what if you stop by there on your way to work? Or maybe you don’t work right now and you go there just to chill? He doesn’t know but he knows he won’t miss a chance to see you.

Taehyung finishes up his plate of food and pays. He leaves the diner and starts walking towards Cozy Coffee, only a 15 minute walk. He inhales deeply, hoping to somehow get a whiff of you, he looks at all the flowers on the side of the sidewalks and thinks of you. Would you be interested in a bouquet of flowers? He recalls on your first unofficial first date he gave you a handful of flowers from the island and you liked it. Ugh, what is he thinking? All he needs to be worried about right now is fucking finding you.

Finally, Taehyung makes his way inside Cozy Coffee. It’s a pretty small place but big enough for a handful of people to be occupying the many tables. His eyes scan the area but they don’t come across you. He sighs and heads towards the counter to order a tea and take a seat at a table in the back near the restrooms.

He spends hours here in this spot. The entire day actually. No sign of you. And the owner has to literally escort him out when it is closing time. He walks back to the hotel with his head hanging low, he guesses today wasn’t a day for reading or writing.

Day 2:

These pancakes aren’t bad actually, not the second time around. Yours are still better, of course but he’s getting use to them. Maybe tomorrow he should try something different.

Taehyung walks leisurely towards the coffee shop, he somehow has this idea he might run into you on the street or something. But he doesn’t.

The coffee shop is a little less busy today, Taehyung goes inside, orders his tea and occupies the same table as yesterday. He pulls his backpack to his lap and brings out a notebook and pen, he decides he will work on song lyrics today.

Hours and hours pass, tea after tea is drank and still, no sign of you. Closing time approaches and he is once again, asked to leave. Taehyung nods in understanding, gathers his belongings and walks back to the hotel. Slowly of course, because deep down he thinks he just might run into you.

Day 3:

French toast today…not as good as the pancakes but still, pretty good. He wonders if you can make French toast? You never mentioned it. Taehyung realizes there is still so much he does not know about you. The thought kind of drives him crazy. He wants to know you. Know all of you. Know you better than anyone else.

The walk to the coffee shop is slow and enjoyable. The scenery is pretty as he strolls on the sidewalk, the flowers poking through the cement bring him a small level of joy for the day. Once he enters the shop, the owner gives him a smile. He orders his tea and makes his way to the back table, pulls out his notebook and starts writing his song lyrics.

On my pillow. Can’t get me tired. Sharing my fragile truth. That I hope the door is still open. Cause the window. Opened one time with you and me. Now my forever is falling down. Wondering if you’d want me now.

Taehyung sets his pen down taking a break from writing, he reaches for his tea and takes a few sips. The liquid has gone cold. He sighs out and lets the hours pass him by. Closing time approaches like it does every night and he is asked to leave.

Day 4:

He’s back to getting pancakes. He likes to pretend they are yours, that you made them for him. He likes to imagine a life where you make breakfast for him again. He likes to imagine a life where you’re just here again. It’s almost 7 am, he needs to head to the coffee shop. He strolls casually, wondering what you are up to on this Thursday morning. Are you finally going to make an appearance at Cozy Coffee? Are you running late for work? Are you in early today?

Taehyung enters the shop and the owner gives him a sweet smile and begins working on his tea. Taehyung feels grateful that it’s being made without him even ordering it yet, a smile adorning his face. He pays for the tea and makes his way to the his table, pulls out his notebook and continues working on his song.

I’m wondering are you my best friend? Feels like a river’s rushing through my mind. I wanna ask you if this is all just in my head. My heart is pounding tonight, I wonder if you are too good to be true. And would it be alright if I pulled you closer.

Taehyung lets hours and hours pass, his pen busy on his notebook paper. The lyrics coming to him so easily for the first time in months. He can’t help the sad smile that grows on his face as he reads and rereads his song lyrics.

Just like every day when the bell of the front door jingles his head shoots up to see who it is. Now is no different. A woman comes in and his heart almost stops because she looks like you at first glance. Taehyung groans at the disappointment. Because it’s not you.

Day 5:

Okay, he is back to French toast. It’s starting to grow on him, he definitely wants to ask you to make this for him. His imagination begins to run wild with dreams of making food with you again, kissing the side of your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind you. Like the many times he has done it.

“Taehyung…” you whine as he nips your neck with his teeth. “I’m trying to concentrate on this recipe.”

“I’m trying to concentrate too.” Taehyung smirks against your soft skin, “On you.”

You can’t help the blush that begins spreading across your cheeks, his fingers dig into your hips and you moan out.

“Taehyung…”

“What is it baby?” he starts kissing your neck. “Want me to fuck you? Right here?” he digs his fingers deeper into your hips and you start grinding against him.

“Couch.” You breathe out. “I want to ride you.”

“Oh? You want to be in control? Maybe I will allow it this once.” He teases, his tongue licking a strip up to your ear, then he nibbles on the lobe.

Taehyung finds his pants getting tight as he recalls his memories with you. He misses kissing you, he misses touching you, he misses your scent, he misses your skin, your eyes, your lips.

Shit, it’s past 7. He needs to hurry to Cozy’s.

He’s seated in his spot with his tea and notebook out, he swears he is almost finished with this song…the chorus needs some work but he thinks he’s got it. Something about being ships in the night, but somehow he doesn’t have the courage to finish he song, he doesn’t want that to be his relationship with you.

Night time comes and still no sign of you. Tomorrow is his last day and he is starting to freak out. Where are you? He thought you came here all the time? Why aren’t you coming? Are you okay? He is asked to leave once again and he does.

Day 6:

Back to pancakes. Back to strolling on the side walk. Back to Cozy’s. Back to his tea. Back to his spot.

Taehyung feels the nerves in his body multiplying with every shaky breath he takes. Today is the last night, his flight is in the morning and he has made no progress on finding you. This place being his only hint.

“Excuse me…” Taehyung walks up to the counter and greets the owner.

“What can I do for you young man? Another tea?” he softly smiles at Taehyung but Taehyung shakes his head.

“I have a question…” he begins. “Do you know y/n y/l/n?”

“y/n???” the old man begins to smile after expressing his confusion, “Of course I do, that girl has been coming here for years.” He starts wiping down the counter with a rag. “Why? You looking for her? You aren’t some creepy ex-boyfriend are you?”

“No, no.” Taehyung laughs. “But I am looking for her…she usually comes here right?” he nervously chuckles.

“Usually. But she started a new job recently that has kept her a little busy…” the old man continues to wipe down the counter. “But she was in just last week! And It’s Saturday!” he cheers, “She always comes to write on weekends.”

Taehyung lights up at that. “Really??” he shows the old man a wide, boxy grin. He feels like he hasn’t smiled like that in what seems like forever. All because there is finally a chance he might see you.

“Oh…” The old man stops wiping to get a good look at Taehyung. “You look like a man in love.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen just a bit before he smiles, “Do I?”

The shop is busy today. Taehyung sits in his usual spot, writing and doodling in his notebook, his head lifting up quickly every time the door jingles. It’s never you though. It is already 6pm and there is still no sign on you and Taehyung hates that he is starting to lose hope. Are you not coming? He doesn’t have much time left.

Taehyung sits here, his pen between his lips as he thinks about you. He thinks about the first time he saw you…he really thought you were some girl he might have drunkenly hooked up with…he remembers your expression, how shocked, how scared, how overwhelmed you were. He wishes now he could go back in time and hug you. Tell you he’s with you, together. That you aren’t alone. Taehyung wishes he could kiss your temple, bring you in close and make you feel okay. He recalls the first time you two really interacted.

“We need to find out what’s going on.” Taehyung takes a deep breath, lifting his head up. He locks his eyes with yours again but you break contact to look at your feet.

“We don’t know anything…would if it’s not safe?” you quietly try to reason.

“Exactly, we don’t know anything and that’s a problem. You don’t expect us to stay in this room forever, do you?”

He has a point and you know it. You want to follow him out of this room but your feet seem to be glued to the floor.

“Well, no. But—”

“Didn’t think so.” He turns away from you, his body shuffling towards the bedrooms door but before he can become out of reach your hand flies to his shirt sleeve, tugging it softly.

“Wait! Just hold on—” Your voice wavers and Taehyung rolls his eyes. Rolls his fucking eyes at you!

“Listen, come. Or don’t. I don’t really care.” Taehyung releases your hold on his shirt, unsticking your fingers and throwing your hand towards your body. “Decide.” He states before swiftly turning around to head towards the door.

Oh. So this guy is a fucking asshole. Noted.

You end up following him because although he was rude about it, feeling someone’s touch when you feel so scared was slightly comforting and yes, you are aware of how fucking pathetic that is.

Taehyung stands in front of the door, his hand reaching for the knob when he turns his head to say, “Just trust me.”

And now you are the one rolling your eyes. Trust him? You just met the dude! 10 minutes ago his name was Future Murderer. How could you possibly trust this asshole?

“How can I trust you? I literally just met you.” The scowl on your face deepens when he smirks.

“Are you always such a fucking baby?”

“Are you always such a fucking baby?” you mock, eyes rolling so far into the back of your head.

Taehyung can’t help but chuckle. God, you were such a brat. It’s almost 7 now…still no sign of you.

“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.

“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.

“I still have to eat it.”

“Eat in your room for all I care.”

You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.

“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.

“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.

“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”

“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”

“But you still would have made this mess?”

“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”

“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.

“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.

“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.

Taehyung continues to chuckles as he goes down memory lane…he does regret being mean to you at first but god, you truly were a fucking brat. But he laughs about it now, loving every single memory he shares with you.

The door jingles and he shoots his head up, hoping it is you. But still, just like every other fucking time—it’s not.

Taehyung groans into his notebook, feeling lost and frustrated. What’s he going to do if you don’t show? He’s trying here. Is the universe really that cruel? And suddenly the door jingles again, but he doesn’t look up, he knows it isn’t you.

“Hi Mister Jones!”

Oh. Oh. That voice. That voice belongs to you. Taehyung whips his head up and there you are. You are standing at the doors entrance with a nervous smile on your face, why are you nervous? You are wearing jeans and a oversized t shirt, a casual but cute look. And Taehyung is falling in love with you. Seeing you in the real world for the first time has him frozen in place.

“The usual?”

“Yeah.” You reply calmly, glancing at the empty table at the front of the shop. You pull a chair out and take a seat, your back to Taehyung. He is still frozen. He all of the sudden feels unprepared for this. He all of the sudden feels sick. He clenches his jaw as he watches your back. You are here, living your life without even think of him aren’t you? Taehyung swallows down his anger now. He has to. Anger won’t do him any good.

He takes long breath after long breath trying to compose himself and find his confidence to go up to you and confront you. He blinks back his growing tears of frustration and stands from his table, the chair screeching against the wooden floors.

He stands here, frozen again. What if you really do not want to see him? That this was all intentional? He starts to feel sick again. He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to get rid of the feeling of nausea.

“Taehyung…” you whisper his name, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You think having feelings for me means that’s it? That it’s the end? Baby, it would only be the beginning.” Taehyung leans down again as he caresses your face. “I know you’re scared. I know you have trauma that you’re still getting through. I know your ex fucked you up. But I’m not him. I’m Taehyung. I’m…fuck, I don’t know. y/n, please just open your heart to me.” Taehyung looks at you with so much compassion that it physically hurts.

“I know,” your voice shakes, “I know you aren’t him, Tae.” You take his hand in yours, “I do like you.” You finally admit, shutting your eyes.

“Look at me.” Taehyung commands, “Look at me babe.”

You slowly open your eyes again, gazing into his dark ones and you feel yourself grow warmer and warmer.

“I’m only looking at you.”

Taehyung quickly opens his eyes as he finds his resolve. You love him. He knows it. He feels it. You wanted him, just like how he wanted you—wants you.

He nods his head, trying to pump himself up, about to gain the courage to walk to you when the door jingles again and a man walks in. A man that immediately looks at you and smiles.

This man takes a seat across from you at the small table and Taehyung feels his heart halting in his chest. He feels himself grow warm, he feels himself grow the company of something evil, something green. He feels himself grow incredibly fucking jealous. So you do have someone. You moved on. You have someone, someone that is not him. Taehyung slowly plops back down in his chair, his mouth slightly open as he watches this man talk and smile at you.

But suddenly, Taehyung notices how tense you become. How you grip on to your purse harder and harder with every word this man speaks. He can sense you from here…something is wrong. Who is this man? Why is he making you so uncomfortable? Is this not a date? Taehyung isn’t sure what to do. He could be reading this all wrong, he could be imagining this for his own sake. He could be creating this world where you don’t love anyone but him.

But then you stand from your chair abruptly and storm out of the shop, this man desperately tries to grab for you and quickly follows after you. Taehyung stands from his chair as well, already racing towards the shops door, in search of you. He didn’t even think about it, he just acted on instinct.

“y/n!” the man calls out after you but you continue to speed walk away until you feel a hand grab at your arm. You are quick to turn around, ready to give him an earful when your face goes completely pale.

“T-Taehyung…?” you stutter out, the shock riding in waves throughout your entire body.

“I said wait baby!” The man jogs up to you and Taehyung, Taehyung releases his hold on your arm and looks between you and this man.

“Baby?” Taehyung whispers out, already feeling his heart crack inside his chest. Maybe this is just a lovers quarrel. He continues looking between you and this man and you can see the hurt plastered all over Taehyung’s face.

“No—”

“Who is this?” The man stands between you and Taehyung. “Who are you?”

“Ben, you can leave. I think I have heard enough.” You spit out and Taehyung’s eyes widen before they are narrowing at you.

“Ben…?” he asks, not even sparing Ben a glance, only focusing on you. “Why are you with him y/n?” Taehyung’s voice goes dangerously low. “I asked, why are you with him?”

“He was just—”

“I was just talking with my girl. Is that a problem?”

“Your girl?” You and Taehyung ask in unison.

“You’re fucking kidding, right y/n?” Taehyung’s face is taken over with a scowl. “There’s no fucking way you are seeing this asshole again.”

“It’s not—”

“Asshole?” Ben scoffs, “Who the fuck are you?”

Taehyung doesn’t even look Bens way as he eyes you, he stuffs his hands into his front pockets and stares at you with his hard expression.

“Answer me.” He commands. “Now.”

“Listen buddy—” Ben begins but Taehyung just a holds a hand up in front of Bens face and tilts his head at you.

“I said, now.” Taehyung finally lowers his hand, then he is feeling his body being shove backward.

“I said who the fuck are you?” Ben pushes Taehyung, his hands still on his chest at the collar of his shirt. “How do you know my girl? y/n…you been fucking other men?”

“I’m not your fucking girl Ben.” You finally snap out of your daze, “I said leave.”

Ben lets go of Taehyung shirt to face you, he walks closer and closer until his feet are practically touching your own.

“Sweetheart I said I was sorry…” Ben tries to caress your face but you smack his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You spit out, “Ever.”

Taehyung eyes the both of you with curiosity. What’s going on here? Are you with him or aren’t you? You notice Taehyung’s confused expression and move towards him to begin explaining.

“Ben is just here to explain why he did what he did…I don’t know why I agreed…but—”

“I’ve heard enough.” Taehyung stops you, he walks closer to you. “He’s bothering you?”

“I ain’t bothering anyone you fucking dick. And you never answered my question—who the fuck are—”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers and you watch the collision of Taehyung’s fist to Ben’s face. You swear you are witnessing it in slow motion, the way his fist crashes into the side of Bens jaw. The way Ben stumbles back and falls to the pavement. The way Taehyung grits his teeth as he brings his fist back to his own body. Did Taehyung just fucking punch your ex-boyfriend in the fucking face?

“She said to fucking leave.” Taehyung growls, “Now.”

“Taehyung!” you rush to his side, immediately reaching for his fist and inspecting it for any damage. You are hit with something massive…like the grandest bolt of electricity the moment your hand touches his. You try your hardest to ignore it, to ignore the fire that caught light, the raging fire that burns so wildly in your chest.

“Come. Come with me.” You say in panic, ignoring the fact that Ben lays on the concrete, probably knocked the fuck out. You hold on to Taehyung’s hand tightly as you lead him to the parking lot until you’re at your car. You hurry to let go of his hand, feeling so fucking nervous. What the hell is happening? Everything with Ben happened so fast that you haven’t even processed the fact that Taehyung is here. Here with you. In your city. In this parking lot. At your car.

“Tae—”

You stop before you can even finish his name. He looks at you with something you have never seen before. He goes to open his mouth but he stops himself, not knowing what the right thing to say is.

“I don’t know what to say anymore now that I am with you.” Taehyung finally says after a long while, his eyes are wet and his expression is troubled.

“I thought I would get here and I would tell you I am ready to make this work, that I missed you, that I love you. But now…seeing you. Really seeing you, I don’t know anymore.” He admits. “I think I am angry with you.” He says softly. “Really fucking angry.”

“Tae—”

“No.” he moves his head to the side, his eyes down at his shoes. “Let me speak. I have prepared a whole speech for you…but now, I don’t think I would mean any of the words.” He shuts his eyes, a tear escaping. “Did you go too far? Too far in hurting me?” he whispers. “Did you ruin me?”

You start breathing heavily, not knowing how to take his words. Why is he here?

“I had to fucking search for you. But did you even want to be found?” he questions you softly.

“Taehyung.” You say firmly. “I—”

“Am I a fool?” He chokes out, “A fool for doing this? Coming all the way here…sitting at this coffee place every single day waiting for you like the pathetic man that I am.” Another tear slips.

“Can I talk now?” you whisper. “Please?”

Taehyung gulps down his spit, anticipating what you might say. He gestures for you to speak and you take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out…” you begin, your chest getting tighter and tighter. “Every day that passed it got harder and harder to do it. If I’m being honest I stalked your account…” you admit with a bitter laugh, “You seemed happy. I wasn’t even sure you wanted me to reach out. Then Hana…”

“Hana?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together, “What’s Hana got to do with this?”

“You two are together aren’t you? I know, Taehyung.” You swallow hard.

Taehyung shakes his head in confusion, how do you know about Hana? You know he slept with her or?

“It was only one time.” Taehyung admits quietly…”but how do you know about that?”

“She posted you on her Instagram. I just assumed.” You say dryly, feeling a pang in your chest as you look at him. So he did get with her. You fucking knew it.

“Why are you here Taehyung?”

“I was here to tell you I love you. I want to make this work.” He says bluntly.

“Was?” you whisper and he nods.

“Now that I am here and I see you, I know I fucking love you still. But I think I’m lost and confused right now.” He admits between bated breaths. “I was so nervous to see you and to be honest looking at you now…I still feel nervous. Like, I could throw up.”

“I feel that way too.” You admit.

“You hurt me, y/n.” he steps closer to you, his gaze is dark and unwavering. “Can I forgive you?” he whispers and you choke back a sob. “Do you even love me back?...That’s also a main problem here.”

“I don’t know what to say.” You breathe out roughly, “I’m sorry for our last conversation on the island.”

“Are you?” he takes another step. “Are you really?”

“Yes, Tae…I …I…”

“You? You?” Another step.

“I was so scared, I was so confused.” You take a step back, but he continues walking towards you. “ But I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” he steps closer. “About that ‘maybe’ hmm?” he steps even closer until he is breathing the same zone of air as you. He reaches for your jaw with his hand and tilts your head up towards him. “I could have fucking told you that.”

“Taehyung…” you don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do. “I’m sorry. It just got so hard to talk to you but I have thought about you every second of every day.”

“Every second?” he scoffs, “Even as you were having coffee with fucking Ben?”

“It seriously isn’t what it looks like…” you rush to say, “He wouldn’t stop pestering me.”

“Tell me how you feel y/n. Right fucking now.” He roughly commands, his fingers still on your jaw.

“I—”

“I want everything, every detail. I want to know exactly what’s going on in this brain of yours.” Taehyung looks at you with hard eyes. “I want the truth.”

You scrunch your face up as you try not to cry, you feel so many overwhelming feelings all at once. You don’t know what to say. You love him. But is it that simple? “I…” You gulp.

“You?” his eyes soften just the slightest, “Just talk to me babe.” His voice loses all its edge as you begin to silently cry. His thumb wipes away your falling tears. “Just talk to me.”

“I miss you so fucking much.” Is the first thing that slips out of your mouth, “You have no idea…” you sob.

“If anyone has an idea, it’s me.” He chuckles bitterly.

“I let time pass me by Tae, I regret it so much. But as the seconds ticked by I knew I was losing my window of opportunity. And before I knew it 6 months had passed.” You choke, “I am so, so sorry.” You stare into his dark eyes. “The company did me a favor.” You laugh, “They gave me you. I fell in love with you, Taehyung. I just…I’m so sorry I doubted myself, doubted you.”

Taehyung’s features soften as he listens to you, he feels himself grow weak. Especially with his fingers touching your skin. He pulls back from you and leans against your car.

“Are you still in love with me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.” You sniffle, wiping your face of your tears. “I think I always will be, even if you decide you hate me.”

“I wish I could hate you.” Taehyung throws his head back, “It would make this easier, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Make what easier?”

“Leaving you behind.” He says quietly, “Leaving us behind.”

Your body begins to shake as more tears escape you, you feel the heavy weight of his words fucking crush you. He wants nothing to do with you. He doesn’t want you anymore. You fucked up too badly. Taehyung watches as you sob for several minutes, his eyes never leaving your flushed face. He clicks his tongue and puts a hand on your shoulder and rubs it.

“That’s what I think I should do.” He says, “But I can’t.”

Wait, what?

“You c-can’t?”

“I love you too much. And I all my friends voted I bring you back to Korea.” He says with a small smirk.

“But you?” you cry, “You said you are leaving me?”

“I was thinking aloud. And to be honest I wanted you to suffer a bit.” He says with his dark gaze. “I wanted to punish you just a little.”

Your wide eyes narrow at him and you can’t help but cry harder. “You fucking sadist.”

“Maybe a little.” He admits with a growing sly smile. “We have a lot to talk about.” He says after a moment. “Do you want to make this work with me or not?”

“Are you serious? Even after all of this you still want to be with me?”

“We’re soulmates, baby. Or did you forget?”

“You fucking smartass.” You wipe at your face, wiping your snots on the collar of your t shirt. “But yes…I want to make this work.”

“Spend a couple weeks with me in Korea. I want to start over with you. Take things slow. I am still angry. But I fucking love you.”

“A couple weeks in Korea?” you shake your head, “I can’t take off work that long.”

“I am not going to beg you.” Taehyung warns, “But please.”

A couple weeks in Korea? With Taehyung? Meeting his family? His friends? Starting over? Going slow? Can you two really do this?

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #the island chapter 8

[peaches-writes]

a hundred days of seo - of all places (pt. 1)

member: changbin but this part is dedicated to besties hyunlix bc i said so  wc: 1.2k genre: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers au, roommates to lovers au, childhood friends to lovers au, neighbor au, college au, eventual friends to lovers au, slow burn, some besties seunghyunlix action hehe chapter warnings: explicit language, mentions of alcohol note: anon! the roommates part comes later pinky promise!

readers choose the adventure game! mechanics | requests checklist & series masterlist 

parts: prologue | part 2 (coming soon!) 

“If you guys really love me—” You groan exaggeratedly with furrowed brows, climbing up your wonkiest living room chair with a broom in your hand and violently tapping the ceiling with its handle end. In front of you, your two best friends are quick to approach closer with their hands outstretched in your direction in surprise and worry—Hyunjin, in particular, going as far as letting out a dramatic cry for you to come down which you simply ignore in your annoyance. “If you idiots care about my well-being, you wouldn’t go to this stupid party or, better yet, you would’ve made him take it somewhere else in the first place!” 

“But it’s Changbin’s birthday! As much as you’re our friend, he’s also our friend.” Felix pouts, cautiously taking two more steps closer to you and placing his hands around the chair’s head rest to steady you. “And it’s not that wild this time, just close friends!”

You fiercely glare down at the younger boy, making him gulp and flinch. Gesturing up to your ceiling and the muffled rock music, you then ask, “This is ‘just close friends’? Whatever, I don’t care! I need to study in peace and this isn’t helping me at all!” You protest, hitting the ceiling a few more times for good measure before jumping down the chair. Felix jumps as well and tightens his grip on the chair, scolding you under his breath for being reckless while Hyunjin finally beelines closer to your side and asks you if you’re okay. “Ya, Hwang Hyunjin, don’t you need to study too? We’re in the same Lit class!”��

“We’ve been studying the whole day, dumbass. We’ve literally studied the whole syllabus down for today! Tsk. Chill...” He points out, dusting off the imaginary dirt off of your pajamas in between warning you not to jump off chairs again. “Anyway, why don’t you just go with us? I saw the invite on your DMs! Just swipe a drink and go or something. You look like you need it—“

You redirect your glare at him who doesn’t waver, clearly your longer friend between him and Felix. “I have other things to do and we’re not friends. That jerk and I, I mean.” You grit stubbornly between your teeth. “He’s just stuck to me like a leech because of you two and Seungmin.”

“What’s worse is that he’s my neighbor starting this semester,” You quickly add before Hyunjin could argue back with another one of his bratty remarks. “I’ve seriously had enough of this guy. I’m definitely not giving myself more headache to go on his stupid birthday party!”

“But it’s free drinks?” Felix tries this time with a raised brow, making you slap a hand to your forehead.

“No. I already told you: the drinks aren’t worth it if it’s him offering.” You shake your head firmly, groaning and rolling your eyes when the muffled music intensifies above your heads as if in dramatic cue. 

“Why aren’t you even friends in the first place?” Hyunjin huffs, crossing his arms as if challenging you. “Seungmin won’t say anything, Changbin always changes the subject, and you’re always mad whenever we do as much as inhale to say Changbin’s name.”

The question sets you off even more, making you groan. “Just because! I really don’t like him, that’s all you need to know!” Sighing in defeat, you then push the two away from you and towards the direction of your door. “Ugh, I guess you three have chosen to be traitors to me tonight. Say hi to Seungmin for me if he turns up, I guess. He hasn’t dropped by so he’s probably gonna be late from tutoring or something. Damn it...” 

“Y/N!!!” The two pout at the same time, not even making efforts to stop you from pushing them across the floor and out of your mini communal area.

“Don’t be mad, please.” Felix adds with his best puppy eyes.

“We’ll tell Changbin to turn it down, then, swear!” Hyunjin adds after, nodding along with Felix in agreement. “And we’ll be civil tonight! Less drinks for us and no drunk stopovers here later, promise—“

“You said that a month ago at Changbin’s housewarming part 1 then two weeks ago at Changbin’s housewarming part 2. Not to mention when you stupidly stopped by my house drunk off your ass both ti—“

“Yeah, yeah, but that’s why Felix’s gonna remind me this time! Geez, Y/N.” Hyunjin frowns, flicking your forehead before pushing himself off of you and walking to the entrance on his own. “But swear, it’ll be as quiet as the campus library in a moment! We’ll really tell Changbin!”

“I wouldn’t even count on it at this point.” You sigh, directing Felix down to your apartment entrance to retrieve his shoes. “Just go, get out of my house. Happy birthday, Changbin or whatever.”

“You want us to pass that along?” Felix’s eyes immediately brighten optimistically while yours blow comically wild in disagreement. As you open your mouth to protest against it, the boy then wears his shoes back on and makes a run for your door. “Okay, Y/N, I’ll text you later what he’ll say!”

“Felix, no!” You call out for him helplessly, approaching Hyunjin who follows along haphazardly. “Ya! Ya! You fucking traitors!”

The music surprisingly quiets down when you hear Hyunjin’s loud voice upstairs three minutes later. 

The soft ping of your phone over an hour later reminds you of the pain seeping up your neck from looking down on your notes, making you reposition yourself in front of your work desk as more follow in quick succession. Picking up your phone, you immediately hold it away from your lamp as the screen brightens with each message from your best friend. 

seungmo: how’s the party? 

seungmo: running v late! 

seungmo: im walking to ur place now tho !!!

seungmo: soojin gave me a headache today w her homework 😭😭

seungmo: but yeah u & changbin aren’t killing each other yet right? 

seungmo: pls don’t

Sighing, you quickly cap your pen in your other hand and type in a quick reply. 

y/n: i didn’t go

y/n: i actually feel even better now that i didn’t seeing as you still aren’t there

seungmo: why not? 

seungmo: i thought you were coming???

seungmo: that’s why i’m coming? 

seungmo: dude we talked abt this 

seungmo: ur like neighbors now it’s rude if u don’t greet him at least once

seungmo: & u opened the DM from jisung too so???

y/n: y would i go? i hate changbin

y/n: doesn’t mean we’re neighbors now means that i have to greet him we can just co-exist until he gets kicked out or something

When Seungmin uncharacteristically doesn’t lecture you over text about being civil and polite right after, you set your phone down with a scoff on the quick conclusion that he’s probably caught up with crossing the street or the lack of cell service on your building elevator. Sinking in your chair, you look up to the ceiling once, threatening to shake with the heavy bass reverberating from its other side, and heave a long sigh. 

Of all places, you think to yourself in frustration as you then proceed to close your books and notebooks with a sudden migraine creeping up from the back of your head. Of all places, he just had to move here! 

You look over your phone once more as you then stand up from your seat and finish clearing your desk, frowning when no more messages pop up. 

The intercom across the hall, however, decides ping after. 

@skzwriternet

m.list

readers choose the adventure game! mechanics | requests checklist & series masterlist | prologue | part 2 (coming soon!)

#stayverse #districtninewriters #inkidz #stayhavennet #skzwriternet #stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids au #stray kids fluff #stray kids drabbles #stray kids oneshots #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz au #skz fluff #skz drabbles #skz oneshots #changbin #seo changbin #stray kids changbin #skz changbin #changbin imagines #changbin scenarios #changbin au #changbin oneshots #changbin drabbles #changbin fluff #readers choose the adventure game!

[werezmastarbucks]

Whitmore Guy vs Cats

whitmore guy masterlist

word count: 1225

music: punching in a dream by the naked and famous

Saturday was sunny and too hot, so they kept the door open for several hours, letting all the smells from the kitchen out in the street. Y/N had a rare pleasure to just chill, watching somebody else do all the work. They turned on the music and talked. Mal came to her house way too early, at two o’clock, and refused to leave when she said she hasn’t even gone to the shop yet. They drove to the nearest store together and somehow ended up stealing a shopping cart. As Mal pushed it with Y/N inside, three packs of pasta and a bouquet of herbs in her arms, she observed the clear blue sky above, and shrieked with delight like a child.

Then they had to pay a fine for misplacing the store’s property.

Back in the house, Y/N opened a bottle of cider with the deepest feeling that she was spoiling herself, and not in a good way; that she was stealing from somebody, that she was doing something utterly bad. As she watched this dude, and his agile hands, unpack all the stuff they bought, and examine her cupboards, learning around her kitchen really quick; she felt better than she did in months.

“That ice cream bucket, by the way”, he pointed a fork at her and then threw it in the sink, “you were right. I shouldn’t have eaten all of it. I felt so sick afterwards”.

She groaned.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get hospitalized”.

“I have strong stomach”.

“Do you have any human weaknesses?”

“Sure”, he said passionately, “Baywatch. You remember that?”

She laughed, throwing her head back.

“I was watching Big Wolf on Campus back then”.

Mal whistled quietly.

“Have you always been preoccupied with that stuff?”

“Yeah, I guess, you could say I magnetize them. Set my mind to it in the childhood and went on with it”.

“What’s wrong with normal people?”

“I don’t know, you tell me”.

“Fair enough. Help?”

She slipped from her couch and stepped into the kitchen space.

“I’ll pour the water. You hold the strainer”.

They grouped around the sink, working with four hands.

“You’re a natural”, Mal nodded with approval, taking the strainer from her and dismissing her with a wave of his ringed hand. She sat at the table so that she wouldn’t have to walk too much.

“You ever cook yourself?”

“Have you seen my fridge?”

“I mean, you eat, right?”

“I do. Most of the time I buy something that’s easy to heat up. I’ve had an eating disorder ever since… forever”.

Mal looked genuinely concerned.

“I have no idea what that is”.

She snickered so bad she nearly spat her cider.

“Of course you don’t you munchkin. It’s when you get up in the morning, and your stomach is empty, and it’s growling and sucking, but you open your fridge, and go, no way. I can’t put anything in there”.

“That’s what she said”, he inserted, without breaking concentration.

“And then you get sick because you haven’t eaten, and by the end of the day you don’t really understand anymore whether you feel so bad because you’re hungry, or because the thought of food makes you nauseous. But at the same time you would love a big steak. But when you get it, you can bite it only once, and then the idea of food becomes an abomination in your mind”.

“Sounds like anxiety”, he murmured, slapping a pan with the towel and the putting it on his shoulder.

“I’m sure they’re connected”.

“I mean, these things are triggered by traumas, you know?” he looked at her over the shoulder.

“Yes”.

“So, anything happened?”

“Where to begin…” she rubbed her chin musingly. “It all began on a sunny day of the year nineteen ninety-four…”

He snorted.

“Poor thing. Don’t worry. I’ll make you pappardelle so good you’ll be begging for more”.

“I’ve no idea what that is but it sounds awful”.

Mal gasped.

“Don’t doubt me, woman. I’m literally the best cook I know”.

She finished her first bottle, and Mal eyed her, thinking.

“Where did you learn to cook?”

“Been on my own for some time”.

“Back in that violent lonely summer camp?”

He grinned modestly.

“Yeah”.

His head swung up, eyes down the hall behind her left shoulder.

“We’ve got guests”.

Y/N turned around only to discover a cat on her doorstep, sniffing the air with its little nose.

“Who’s that guy?”

“Looks like Gray, neighbor’s cat”.

“Take him away. Animals don’t like me”.

Y/N looked at the cat again, walking silently in her living room, but unable to hide its desire to run into the kitchen. The cat was cautious, and as soon as it saw Mal, it did, indeed, stop and hiss.

Y/N walked to it, trying to push it gently with her leg.

“Gray, what’s up? Go away if you don’t like it here”.

Mal was looking at the animal very seriously, like they were having a discourse telepathically.

“Why is that?” she asked, frustrated at the cat’s sudden inability to move. It ruffled all its fur and growled deeply, tail sticking to its bum.

“He feels I’m better than him, and he’s upset about it”, Mal boasted, full of hidden undertones.

She pushed the cat again, then bent and tried to pick it up, but Gray growled at her, too.

“You little shit. What did I ever do to you?”

“Don’t let Gray scratch you, or I’ll cook him, too”.

“Please, I don’t need to know about your street animals cooking skills”.

Y/N took a cushion from her couch and waved it in front of Gray’s face. The cat started to retrieve very slowly.

After several pushes and a lot of verbal persuasion, she finally took Gray outside. It felt good, for some reason, like she just avoided a disaster. As she straightened up and turned, she nearly bumped into Mal, standing in front of her and smirking.

“Cats. Fucking smart”.

When he stood so close, looking down on her, her brain went ballistic. His smell entered her nostrils and filled her head with poisonous gas.

“What are you doing?”

“I realized I forgot to buy apples for the pie. I’ll be right back, uh-huh?”

He leaned and clutched the door handle behind her back.

“Can you watch the pasta, please? Stir it a little if there’s too much foam. I’ll be in five. And don’t drink anymore, or you’ll fall asleep by the time your friends come”.

He disappeared like a magician, closing the door so quickly she barely managed to even register what he said.

Well, she be damned if she doesn’t find out his deal. She cursed under her breath as she walked back to the stove and looked down the pot, the smell of pasta making her anxious, like she’s been running for miles. There it goes: it takes one handsome fucker to enter her house, and she goes crazy. And he smirks, and smiles, and talks nonsense, blaming cats and Damon, and thinks he can wrap her around his finger. She be damned if she falls for a dick like Damon again. He thinks he’s smart, with his babbling to distract her from the things he doesn’t utter. But she’s been around for a while. And she’ll find a way to bust that dude.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #vampire diaries #tvd imagine #legacies #legacies imagine #vampire diaries imagine #whitmore guy

[breakingsomething]

third year

basic summary: chase hates his birthday, but maybe someone can help him change that.

trigger warnings: mentions of past suicide attempts

"good morning, bastard."

chase groans, pausing before yanking his blankets off his head. he rolls over his bed to see henrik standing at his door, looking amused. "the fuck do you want?" he mumbles, already feeling the morning chill on his bare arms.

henrik smiles softly. "happy birthday."

oh. it's his birthday, isn't it.

two years since he made his attempt. a year since he was wrongly arrested for kidnapping. a year since his kids went missing.

"shit," he says. then he pulls his blankets back over his head.

there's a moment of silence. "come on, bruder, get up. we have a surprise for you today."

"i'm sure you fucking do," chase mutters from beneath his covers. his eyes still burn from crying so much last night. he can't even remember what he was crying about, really. "is it worth getting up for?"

"it is," henrik says. chase listens to the door squeaking as henrik holds it open, waiting for a response. when chase doesn't give one, he sighs. "get up when you're ready, ok? don't spend all day doing the sulks. you will not feel better that way, i promise."

chase doesn't move as the door closes. he waits a minute before looking up to see henrik is, in fact, gone.

good. he didn't want him to stay anyway.

he thinks he goes back to sleep. when he wakes again, the room is considerably brighter, and he wonders if he should bother getting up. but he's extremely hungry - if he's remembering right, he hasn't eaten since yesterday morning - so after a few moments of psyching himself up, he pushes himself into a sitting position and swings his legs off the bed. even that simple motion is enough to make his head pound. he really wished he hadn't cried so much last night. too lazy to go to his drawers and grab a pair of socks, he patters from the room barefoot, wincing at the cold floor beneath his feet.

the house is very, very quiet. chase checks each room on his way downstairs, and eventually realises that everyone must be out. "i take it you're all planning a surprise party for me, huh?" he says aloud. of course, there's no response. chase chuckles silently, before setting about making toast. the clock on the wall tells him it's half twelve. damn, he really did sleep in. the silence is unnerving him - he really hopes anti isn't involved in this somehow.

after he's eaten, he goes to take a shower. he figures that while he's awake, maybe he'll go for a walk, get some fresh air to maybe help get rid of this headache. his hands brush over his bullet scar on the side of his head, and he winces. it doesn't hurt, but the memories of what he was doing two years ago today certainly do.

once he's dried his hair, he pulls a cap and beanie over his head and tries not to think about it.

he locks the door and sets out, walking aimlessly away from the house. he wanders through the city, listening to the sounds and watching the people go by. he's suddenly very aware of how all the other people he's seeing have real lives, and that he's not the only one with problems - there's probably someone here who has it even worse than him. the thought makes him feel odd, so he tries to focus on other things instead, like shop windows and passing conversations. a few people catch him looking and he quickly glances away as he goes by, keeping his eyes to the floor.

he stops for lunch around two. the man who serves him in gregg's smiles and comments on how good chase's hair looks, and his face burns. he fumbles with his change as he pays and races out as quickly as he can. marvin would be ashamed of him.

he walks along the shorefront and eats his sausage roll. he should probably think about going home - he's sure his brothers are wondering where he is - but he really doesn't want to think about it being his birthday.

technically speaking, this isn't even his real birthday. just the one jack assigned him; he'd rather celebrate his birthday now anyway, given that all his brothers birthdays are so close together. well. he'd really rather not celebrate his birthday at all, to be honest.

is that why he's not going home? is that why he's alone, waving off seagulls from his cheap lunch instead of with his brothers, eating cake and playing mario kart?

it's getting cold. he's not wearing a jacket, just a thin pink hoodie, and he can feel goosebumps appearing on his arms. he decides he might as well go home and get this all over with, if only so that the goddamn seagulls leave him alone.

he tosses the rest of his sausage roll to the floor and watches the birds go wild over it. probably a dumb idea, but whatever. he starts off in the direction of home, still feeling completely miserable.

there's still no one there when he gets home.

chase peeks cautiously around each doorway, fear bubbling in his chest. "hello?" he called nervously. "hen? jackie? marv?"

the floorboards creak under his footsteps. there's no response.

chase hugs himself tightly and sits down on the couch, trembling slightly. please don't let him have gotten them. please, please, don't let him have gotten them.

he only waits for half an hour before he hears keys in the lock.

immediately he springs to his feet, racing to the kitchen and pulling out the largest kitchen knife he can find. if that glitch has taken his brothers, if he's coming to kill him, he's not gonna make it easy.

"hey, chase! sorry we were gone so long, we got sidetracked and - woah, woah, dude! put that thing down, it's just us!"

chase just stares at the man in the doorway. reddish hair, round glasses over dark blue eyes - he looks like jackie, but what if he's not? what if he's - what if -

jackie takes his hand and gently uncurls his fingers from the knife handle. chase can see henrik and marvin in the background, clutching a big box covered with a blanket between them, looking shocked. he's breathing very quickly. jackie takes the blade and puts it back into its drawer, slowly turning back to chase so as not to startle him.

"hey man, it's just us, ok?" jackie says, hands up. chase stares at his feet, trembling.

"thought you were - thought you were him," he mumbles, embarrassed. "you were all gone, no note or anything, i got scared."

"we left a note!" henrik says. he pushes the box into marvin's hands and comes to stand beside his brother. "didn't we? marvin, you left a note, right?"

"uh," marvin says. he struggles with the box in his hands. "i, uh, may have forgotten?"

henrik rolls his eyes. "we're sorry, chase. you were asleep and we didn't want to wake you."

chase was fixated on marvin."what's in the box?"

marvin grins, and sets the box down on the kitchen table. "ah, but take a look!" he announces in his best performer's voice. he leaps on top of a chair and spreads his hands out. "step right up, and admire the beauty, the majesty, the magnificence of -"

he lifts his arms, blue sparks trailing from his fingertips as he uses his magic to levitate the blanket from the box. he's gotten a lot better at controlling his magic again since his return, and he's absolutely showing it off. jackie and henrik both grab chase's hands as the blanket moves to reveal -

it's a black cat carrier. chase just stares at it, open mouthed, until he hears a small mewling from inside.

he claps his hands over his mouth and feels his eyes well up with tears.

"go see her!" jackie says, unable to contain himself any longer.

"yes, please do, i can't hold up this blanket all day," marvin laughs. he snatches the blanket from the air and looks down at chase, who's covered his face with his hands and is sobbing quietly.

"hey, hey!" henrik soothes, patting his arm gently. "what's wrong?"

chase wipes his face, giggling. "you guys!" he beamed, scrubbing away his tears. "did you really -"

"come see!" marvin says, and steps down from his chair to open the door of the carrier. "chase, come here and let her see you!"

chase peeks inside the carrier and sees a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at him. his breath catches, and he lets out a gasp. the kitten mewls again, taking a cautious step towards chase.

"we've been keeping her secret for weeks!" jackie grins, coming up behind chase. "she's from the shelter on the high street, she's six months old, her previous family couldn't care for her or her siblings so we decided to take her!"

"she's already been - what is the word? we had the spaying done for her." henrik explains. "we were going to take her home last week, but we decided to wait." he clicks his tongue, trying to get the kitten to come forward. she does so, hesitantly padding half out of the carrier onto the table. she cowers back slightly at all the people around her, and jackie, henrik and marvin step back to give chase and the kitten a bit of space.

chase removes a hand from his mouth and slowly, carefully, stretches it out for the kitten to sniff. she looks at him, then fully leaves her carrier and smells chase's hand. he admires her, a huge smile spreading across his face as she purrs quietly. her fur is fully black, and she's very small, her tail swishing around and batting chase's hand. he laughs, feeling more tears fall from his eyes.

"do you have any name ideas?" marvin asks.

chase nods. "jaffa cake."

jackie and marvin immediately burst into peals of laughter, while henrik just looks confused. "what - why jaffa cake?" he asked. "i mean, it is of course your choice, but -"

"jaffa cake." chase says firmly, and he grins widely. he gently strokes the kitten's head, and she allows it, purring softly. "i love her so, so much, guys, thank you so much! i - i don't even know what to say!"

jackie rushes forwards and throws his arms around chase, much to his surprise. "happy, happy, happy birthday!" he cheers.

marvin comes round to his side and ruffles his hair underneath his hats. "happy birthday, asshole." he chuckles.

henrik smiles awkwardly at the ground for a second before pulling chase into a huge hug. "ich liebe dich, chase brody," he beams, burying his face in his brother's shoulder.

and chase just breathes, trying not to cry any more as he swells with love, only held up by the three sets of arms wrapped around him. he sniffles, closing his eyes. "i love you guys so fucking much!" he sobs, and the four of them fall into a heap on the floor, giggling and holding on to each other like they were all that was keeping each other afloat.

#jacksepticeye #boop writes #chase brody #marvin the magnificent #henrik von schneeplestein #jackieboy man #arc three: righting wrongs

[chloe-bourgeois-is-big-gay]

//Reunions//

.....

Adrien couldn't believe it. His wife of 2 and a half years was leaving him and their daughter, Odette.

She didn't even bother telling the truth and just tried to make up a pathetic lie.

"Prince Ali has summ-"

Adrien cut her off, "Oh give it a rest, Lila. I know you're full of bullshit. Marinette was right about you. You're nothing but a liar and a cheat."

Lila laughed at him, "So what? What Marinette thought doesn't matter. Nobody has seen her in 5 years, since graduation. Last I heard, or rather told, she was a failing designer with a deadbeat boyfriend."

"Why are you leaving in the first place? Am I not good enough for you?"

She smirked, "I only married you for the money, Adrien. I thought you knew that. It was lucky I got pregnant or you would have never proposed. But now that daddy dearest is gone to jail, you have no money. All you have is that brat and your teaching course, so I'm leaving."

She turned around before walking out of the house, "And don't worry about custody or visitations. You can have the brat"

.....

"Don't worry, dude. There's plenty of fish in the sea." Nino tried to comfort Adrien, tried being the key word.

Alya was standing at the side fuming, "How could you do this to Lila?! She was nothing but loyal to you! This is how you repay her?! Sleeping with that housewrecker?!"

'Yeah, loyal. Lila hasn't been loyal to me since we started dating.'

Nino looked over at Alya, "Chill, babe, I doubt Adrien would sleep with Marinette, of all people. Especially, after how she just abandoned everyone after graduation."

Alya almost burst with how much anger she felt from even thinking about how Marinette dropped the class without notice.

"Hmph. I can't wait until the reunion. Then I can shove this in her smug face! She won't know what hit her."

.....

Adrien walked into his old schools P. E. Hall. It looked almost exactly the same. Only a few people were as early as he was. Including Lila.

He could hear her sob story from where he stood on the opposite side of the room.

"And I heard sounds coming from the bedroom, so naturally I go in. All I could see was that bitch in bed with him with a smug look on her face. And what's worse, Ol- On -- the baby was in the next room crying. I should have known, he's been sneaking out every night."

All Adrien had was Chat Noir, Odette and his friends. And now Lila was taking his friend's away. He thought back to several months ago when he and Ladybug finally defeated Hawkmoth, his father. It was three weeks later that Ladybug told him that she couldn't help him for a while but that she would be back fighting street crime with him as soon as possible. That was the last time he saw Ladybug.

Adrien sighed, dejectedly. He noticed his old classmates and their significant others beginning to arrive, so he began to talk to people in his old classes, that he hasn't seen in 5 years.

He was enjoying catching up with old classmates when he saw someone who he didn't expect to see ever again, or at least not in person, "Luka?"

Luka still was taller than him and had his signature (albeit shorter) blue hair, but now he had more piercings, a few tattoos and fans surrounding him. Being a famous rock star would do that to you.

Luka turned around and smiled, "Adrien! I haven't seen you since KittySection broke up. What have you been up to, man?"

Adrien smiled, he was glad be didn't go to Luka's head, he was a good guy. "Well, I'm actually currently working on getting my teaching degree. What are you doing here anyways? You were a few years ahead of us, right? "

"That's great, Adrien! I'm actually here as a guest. Actually, while I'm speaking to you, what's with all this drama about you?"

Adrien dropped his smile, "Oh. My wife -- ex-wife -- is spreading rumours that I cheated on her with Marinette. Crazy, right?"

Luka's face softened, "Yeah, crazy. If you want I could help you out?"

"Could you, please?"

.....

Luka walked over to where Lila was standing with the girls from her class, sans Rose, Alix, Juleka and Chloe.

It seemed she was telling her story, again. "And then I saw that homewrecker, Marinette, on top of him! While the baby cried in the other room! How cruel could she be?"

Luka stepped up, "Forgive me for intruding, but when exactly was this? I heard you only filed for divorce recently, I couldn't imagine staying with a cheater long after finding out."

Lila perked up, she recognised Luka, of course, he was a famous musician and to have someone so famous wrapped around her finger, she could feel the admiration already

"Oh, it was only 2 weeks ago. She looked exactly like she did back in school. I can't believe Marinette would do something so spiteful. She was always jealous of me."

Luka grinned, "I can't believe it either. Did you say two weeks ago?"

Lila nodded.

"That's weird, because Marinette was on tour with me for the last 4 months until two days ago."

Lila sputtered, "Wh-why would she be on tour with you?"

Juleka who had been listening in to the conversation said quietly, "She's his wife. They've been married since she was 19 and he was 21." Luka held up his hand to show the ring.

Lila widened her eyes, she looked considerably panicked, "Oh you poor thing, she married you only for the fame and money, didn't she?"

Luka darkened, "Grasping at straws, now are we? We've been married since before either of us were discovered. We both love each other very much. I can't say the same for you."

"Either of you?" Alya spoke up, "What do you mean either of you? We were told Marinette was a failing designer."

This time Chloe laughed, "Are you blind? Even I could see how talented she is! My own mother hired her as a designer before she even finished university. The girls been successful practically since we graduated lycée!"

A small voice came from behind everyone, "What are we talking about?"

Luka brightened, "Marinette! We were just talking about you! Especially your old friend Lila," he pulled Marinette in front of him, "She looks just like she did go in school doesn't she?"

In fact, Marinette did look exactly the same except for one big difference, she was very heavily pregnant.

Luka continued, "What was that story about Marinette, again? That she was spiteful, having an affair and looked exactly the same as in lycée?" His eyes darkened, "If you're going to lie about your husband, leave my Marinette out of it!"

Lila was suddenly being ganged up on by everyone, questioning her previous lies. She felt overwhelmed, but when she caught sight of Marinette all she felt was anger.

"YOU! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! IF YOU HAVEN'T COME TONIGHT EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE BEEN FINE!"

Then Lila lunged at Marinette, blinded by her anger. She was able to get in one good scratch on her face, drawing blood, before being punched and flipped over onto her back, by none other than Marinette herself.

Everyone was shocked to see the pregnant woman fight back against Lila and win despite the fact that she had to waddle while walking.

.....

Soon the police had to come arrest Lila for aggravated assault on a pregnant woman. After interviewing all witnesses and asking Marinette if she wanted to press charges (to which she denied), the police left.

Suddenly, all of Marinettes old friends that didn't believe her were beside her asking for forgiveness for believing the liar. She of course forgave her old classmates but told them that she couldn't be friends with them anymore, at least not until they regained her trust.

However, as soon as everything started to calm down, a wet substance fell into the floor under Marinette.

"Luka? My water broke."

.....

On the way to the hospital Luka held Marinettes hand, "I can't wait to meet my little girl and boy!"

"I think little Apolline and Fabien can't wait to meet you."

A squeaky voice called out, "What about me?"

Marinette smiled, "I bet they can't wait to meet you either, Tikki, they'll love you!"

Tikki giggled and flew back into Marrinette's hair to hide as they were approaching the hospital.

Luka kissed Marinette's hand, "I love you, Buginette. And I love my babybugs, as well."

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous season 3 #ladybug and chat noir #tales of ladybug and cat noir #chat noir #adrien agreste #hawkmoth #marinette dupain cheng #luka x marinette #luka couffaine #lukanette #lila rossi #alya salt #ml alya #alya cesaire #ml salt #miraculous fic #miraculous fanfic #ml fic #ml ficlet #ml fanfic #babybugs #pregnant marinette #future au #ladybug #Chat noir #lila salt #salt fic #ml salt fic

[cybrfang]

3 Wishes for the Blood Suckers Part 2

Anon asked: Bro what if a djinn became a lost boy? 

So here is my part 2 to the story, this one is a bit longer than the first one, so don’t worry. You’ll get more interactions and hopefully my writing got better. Here’s the link to the first part.

https://fanged-lostgirl.tumblr.com/post/188350083878

The sun set over the bustling city of Santa Carla, allowing the pink sky to darken and fill with stars. The darkness seemed to call every living person out and into the open. But, it wasn’t just the living that seemed called out into the night. Of course, no one questioned that anyone was anything but living. The low rumble of bikes ran through the town. Passing by the boardwalk, bright rides, and screaming people. The feeding ground.

People heard the bikes coming and would stop and stare at the mean, sick - sexy as hell- young adults riding by. David sat up on his bike and let out a yell. It wasn’t derived from any singular feeling. No, it was from all of his feelings smashed together. The wind running through his hair, the cold night, a fine mist in the air, remembering the way Star would wrap her arms around his middle and sigh, and Laddie’s shrill little laugh. He could faintly hear Marko chuckle from his bike behind him.  David looked back with a shit eating grin, knowing he would be feeling the same things. In doing so, he noticed two tiny headlights behind Marko.

At first he thought it was from a car, and he wrestled with the thought of slowing down and making Marko move up beside him. That way they could somehow trap a meal on the go. But, when the lights got closer, and larger, they seemed to break a part just a tad bit. David caught the smell of seductive decay and speed up, feeling more comfortable now that he knew it was just the rest of his boys.

Marko seemed to find that out on his own when Paul and Dwayne pulled up beside him on both sides, caging him in.

“Damn! Where did you two get the time to untangle!” He laughed like a hyena, only spurred on from Paul’s barley noticeable griping and groaning.

David rolled his eyes, spying Dwayne pull up on his left with a soft smirk on his face. If he was on David and Marko’s side or Paul’s side, he didn’t let on. That was alright with David, seeing as he was preoccupied with something at the moment. The weight on his shoulders seemed to sag a bit, like he added more bricks onto the pile. Marko and Paul grew silent, each enjoying the night time ride, each dreading what was coming up in front of them. David drew forward a bit more, letting out a breath, turning on the broken and beaten path to his dead sires old lair.

No one turned off their bikes as they pulled in and stopped beside one another, each one afraid of what the silence in the night would bring. Finally, David pulled his key, signaling to the others that it was okay. As each bike went off, the world became alive around them. The trees were swaying, letting the leaves on their many arms whisper among themselves, gossiping about the familiar strangers that were parked and waiting under them. Paul could hear an owl, hooting in the distance, but he could tell it was closer than it let on. The wind, yelling before, grew quiet with the tumbling engines, wondering what will happen next. Marko stared at the beach house for a moment, before breaking the ambiance around him and the others.

“So what are we waiting for?

“I don’t know,” Dwayne slid off his bike, “Max to come out and ask us were we’ve been hiding or something.”

David followed Dwayne’s lead, hopping off his bike and freezing. He was surprised when Marko wanted to come here earlier, but now he was just confused. Had it really been just a month ago? He could still see the bat kite he threw at Max just to fuck with him. It was tied to the gate post, he assumed Max placed it there before he and Lucy went to the Emerson’s to amuse her or something. The small things bothered him. Don’t get confused or anything, Max bothered him too and he and the boys are glad the asshole is dead. He just felt wrong… to be happy about it.

“Alright, let’s go boys.”

Opening the door, it felt like he stepped back into time. He let the rest walk in past him as he stood by the door, memories slamming-

“David, I want you t-”

-into him.

He let out a shocked laugh, causing Dwayne too look over at him with a confused smile.

“What’s good brother?”

David shook his head, walking up to Dwayne and clapping him on the-

“David I want you to do something for me and Lucy.”

-Shoulder with a gentle force.

“Just having memories of how this all started with Michael. It felt weird.”

“I get that, I just had this weird chill down my spin like Max was tossing me shirts he found in my size again.”

Paul snorted, while falling on the couch.

“Man he never got it in his head that you were just gonna keep using that shit for the fires.”

The three of them laughed, thinking about all the fights that would come about after they warmed up the cave with all the t-shirts Max gave him.

“Or for when Laddie grew up.” Marko said.

The laughing stilled, the wind outside growing louder. As if it knew that people were hurting. As if it wanted to be the thing the focus was shifted to. But the wind wouldn’t get it’s helpful wish as a crash came from Max’s room.

David’s eyes were glued onto Marko, who had jumped and leaned forward towards the noise. But Paul slammed a hand on Marko’s shoulder, pulling him back against his chest. Marko whipped his head around, his face already morphed and he looked like he was about to strike at whoever was holding him. But, when he saw who it was he let out a shaky breath and sagged against Dwayne. He didn’t morph back though, looking back at the hallway where Max’s room was.

David narrowed his eyes, sniffing at the air. The aroma wasn’t that of a vampire, but it wasn’t of a human either. He looked over at Paul, who looked like he wanted to charge the room without hesitation. He wasn’t thinking with his head, he probably only thought it was a street rat, squatting in Max’s house. Paul caught his eye though, signaling that he knew more than he let on. David shook his head in a warning, which earned him an eye roll in exchange. Before David could stop him, Paul walked into the room with what looked smug pride. Or stupid was more like it. David’s eyes didn’t leave Paul’s back, but he could hear Marko’s breathing getting faster.

The room was quiet, except for Marko’s labored breathing. Nothing could be heard from the room where Paul disappeared into. The wind outside wouldn’t even speak up to pull the teens minds away from what they were thinking. The room itself -normally so bright with all of Max’s neon lights on- seemed to get a dark red hue to it. Not even crickets were screaming their little legs off. A loud bang sounded, making Dwayne grip onto Marko tighter and to keep himself in check. Both he and David had morphed though, just in case. They hadn’t heard Paul’s voice yet. Finally, after 3 minutes or so -more like forever- Paul’s head popped out of the doorway with a happy smile on his face.

David sagged with a sigh or relief, changing back at the look of pure bliss on his friend’s face.

“You look like a fucking golden retriever man. What the hell did you find in there?”

Marko pulled himself away from Dwayne, still taking short, but not as quick, breaths.

“A B.C dildo or something mounted on the wall?”

“No I- dude what the fuck is B.C?

"Before Chr- you know what, nothing. What did you find?” Marko sighed.

Paul’s eyes widened and he disappeared behind the door again. Not a second later did he kick the door open and out ran a short fury beast.

Dwayne was the first to react.

“Thorn?”

David let out a shocked laugh, dropping to his knees and placing both of his hands on each side of Thorn’s face.

“He’s just been here since M-”

“Yeah, but I think it hasn’t just been Thorn here on his own. The tv’s on, but it’s on mute.”

David raised his eyebrow, feeling lighter than he did earlier.

“Oh, what’s on?”

“Nightmare on Elm Street.”

“Which one?” Dwayne asked.

“The third one I think.”

“Oh yeah? That wa-”

“YO?” Marko shouted, his face had an incredulous look on it, like he could believe what he was hearing.

“There’s someone lurking around this place and you all just wanna chat about what’s on tv?”

David looked up, wrapping his arm around Thorn’s collar, holding the struggling dog still.

“So what someone’s squatting, we’ll find them at some point and wrap their neck with their small intestine, I just don’t smell anyone at the moment, so maybe they haven’t been here in forever.”

“Well a spot on the bed was still warm, so maybe they left a few hours ago.” Paul shrugged.

Dwayne looked down at Thorn, watching the dog struggle against David’s hold.

“What do we do with that? It loves Max and when it finds out that homie isn’t coming home? He’ll flip. He might even try and kill us.” Dwayne noticed Marko’s confused stare. “We didn’t technically protect it’s master did we? What does it care that we were almost dead.”

Paul took a few steps back away from the growling dog, “Why did you say that with it in the same room? Hounds of Hell can understand you man!”

David remained quiet, holding the dog’s collar with more force then he started with. It seemed they could do at least one thing about it.

“We could just drain the thing.”

David looked around at the shocked faces of his friends, almost chuckling.

“Look if what you said is true, then maybe we should just kill it.”

“But Thorn’s j-”

“Thorn probably isn’t really the hounds real name Marko.” David looked down at the dog, it had started barking, trying to pull away from David, snapping it’s jaw at him.

David let himself morph into a vampire again, biting of his right handed glove and letting his nails grow to full length. He wasn’t going to just put his face near this crazy little Cujo. He held his hand out, holding still and staring at the dog. Don’t get him wrong, he felt a tiny bit sad, but you gotta do what you gotta do. It was almost weird, watching the dog try and get away from him. Most hounds of Hell protected themselves, spilled blood if they had to. Maybe this thing… maybe Thorn didn’t want to kill the boys after all. I mean, they were all family, weren’t they? In some sort of weird way? Maybe they could take him home in the cave with them.

Just as David was about to loosen his grasp to let the dog go, Thorn slipped through his fingers. More like misted through his fingers, and into the air, making a large shadow on the wall. It looked almost-

“Human?” Marko mumbled, trying to process watching a dog he’s known for years literally poof into a fine dark mist.

“No,” Dwayne said, watching the shadow move as if it was heavily breathing, “That’s no human.”

“What is it then?”

Before anyone could respond though, the shadow seemed to grow wings, and a face. Hell it looked like it was almost 3-D. It didn’t even look like it was on the wall anymore. Whatever this thing was, it shifted in form, and color. It looked like a human now. But if you looked hard enough, maybe as hard as a vampire, you might’ve noticed that instead of flesh, it was just a fiery shadow on this things body.

Standing in front of 4 morphed vampires was a fire shadow of a dark skinned man. He had long black braided hair that came down to his rear, held in a ponytail. His beard wasn’t large, but it was long enough to still allow it to be braided up and tied. He wore no shirt, except a large red scarf and wrist shackles that could be passed off as bracelets. His pants were black and baggy, ending mid-calf. He wore no shoes, but if you tried to stare at his feet too long, they almost appear to disappear and meld together in a fire like way. He looked like he was around David’s age, yet his eyes held a knowledge that convinced the boys that he might’ve been older than their uncle Vlad. They were thinking of the word he, but this thing didn’t fully look like a he, or she really.

David was the first to speak to the explosive looking thing.

“I may be going crazy, but I’m pretty sure you were just a dog.”

The thing gave a cocky laugh in response, it’s voice deep yet quiet at the same time. Like thousands of whispers melding together to form one voice. Or like a fire burning strong.

“I might’ve been a dog, same as you might’ve looked human to your last meal. We merely pretend to blend into the world. All at the will and might of my late master Max.

Paul perked up at the name, his eyes held a distrust though. "You knew our sire?”

The thing nodded, it’s hair seeming to bounce like a Disney princess who had just been underwater or something in David’s eyes.

“What and who are you then?” Dwayne asked with an air of false confidence.

The thing smirked, as if it was issued a challenge.

“I am Zaqij.” It’s voice snapped like a log in a fire.

Paul tried the name out on his lips, looking almost apologetic, before he asked if he could still refer to the thing as Thorn.

“You may, it is just another one of my chosen names.” It was avoiding Dwayne’s second question, almost deliberately.

“What are you?” David repeated, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up, this thing in front of them was powerful and they all knew it, they could feel the electric coming from it in shock waves.

Thorn let out a sigh and turned it’s head toward David, gracing him with a burning smile.

“I am a djiin.”

#david the lost boys #kiefer sutherland #marko the lost boys #alex winter #dwayne the lost boys #billy wirth #paul the lost boys #brooke mccarter #star the lost boys #jami gertz #my story #the lost boys (1987) #the lost boys #the lost boys imagines #djinn #djinn au #lost boys au #multi chapter #multi couples

[tysonrunningfox]

Ripped: Part 17

Hey so this took forever because I had to edit it a bazillion times because...this chapter does some real heavy lifting.  If none of you hate me just a little bit after this...I’ll be shocked...

Ao3

Astrid (2:37pm): yeah, sorry Fish, I’m not going to make it in to close tonight, I’m still at the station

Fishlegs (2:38pm): thanks for letting me know

Astrid (2:38pm): and I know I owe you, I’ll cover two of your shifts next week  

Fishlegs (2:39pm): it’s slow anyway, just worry about keeping yourself out of jail

Astrid (2:39pm): not worried about that at all, I’ve barely been talked to

Fishlegs (2:40pm): that makes sense, given all the reasons to focus on Hiccup

Astrid (2:40pm): what reasons?   Astrid (2:41pm): did eretson call you? What did you tell him?  What reasons? Astrid (2:41pm): aside from the obvious bad luck, but they already know about all of that   Astrid (2:42pm): Fish. Astrid (2:43pm): Fish. Legs.  Answer me.  

Eretson steps out of the interrogation room where he’s been talking to Ruffnut for what feels like forever, according to Astrid’s fully comatose ass and she stands up to hope for an update.  Snotlout is leaning rigid against the wall across from her and he pretends not to notice Eretson until the detective addresses him.  

“Jorgenson, the suspect says you were with her the night that she threatened the victim, can you attest to that?  How serious did her threats seem?”  

Snotlout scratches behind his ear and winces, “uh, I wouldn’t really say I’m a reliable witness for this one.”  

“What do you mean you’re not a reliable witness?”  Eretson’s face doesn’t move, Astrid half wonders if it still can.  

“I mean that I’m…” Snotlout looks at her for help and she glares back at him, willing him to say something—anything—helpful.  “Yeah, no, we fucked.”  

“You slept with the suspect.”  Nothing in Eretson’s miserable deadpan is a question.  

“Yeah,” Snotlout snorts, quoting around his words with his fingers, “that’s what we did.  ‘Sleep’.  Uh-huh—“

“You slept with the suspect,” Eretson booms, his voice filling the sterile hallway and reverberating in tune with the throbbing in Astrid’s head.  “The one time you were in the right place at the right time.  The one time you could be fucking useful to an actual case—“

“I’m useful a lot, just because my life doesn’t revolve around you—“

“Not a reliable witness,” Eretson scoffs.  

“It wouldn’t be ethical.” Snotlout crosses his arms, looking to Astrid for support, and her helplessness blooms into anger and she smacks his arm.  “Hey! Assault on an officer—“

“I didn’t see anything,” Eretson shrugs.  

“Not funny, that’s going to bruise.”  He makes a big, stupid show of rolling his shoulder and Astrid glares at him.  

“I’m not a reliable witness at this time,” Eretson sighs at the interrogation room door like it’s an obstacle he has no real interest in overcoming but he has to try anyway.  

“Dude—“

“I think the soundproofing works both ways if you need to hit him more,” the detective whispers conspiratorially to Astrid, finally driven to something like humor, and she hates how much she wants to like him even when he has Hiccup on the other side of one of these doors.  

“I will if it gets me out of here sooner,” she glances at the clock, resolving to get an answer from Fishlegs in person if he doesn’t text her back soon.  

“Yeah, if you want assaulting an officer on your record, go ahead.”  Snotlout is a familiar kind of antsy and furious and Astrid can’t help but relate to it after seven hours spent pacing a hallway and trying to put together all her friends’ futures out of barely overheard scraps.  

Tuffnut’s credit and bar inheritance linking him to Gruffnut, Ruffnut’s too specific threats, and Hiccup’s knack for being at the wrong place at the wrong time are all spiraling, condensing on something Astrid feels looming even if she can’t see it.   It’s like she’s looking at the sun, trying to find the source of the shadows while the answer hides in a dark spot in her vision.  

“You aren’t even on duty, Jorgenson,” Eretson glares at the uniform Snotlout wore to look more official, and shakes his head, unimpressed.  Maybe it’s Eretson’s sleeveless tee-shirt under his usual suit jacket or the dark circles under his eyes, like he spent all night working instead of planning his appearance, but his tolerance for Snotlout is even lower than usual.  

Astrid has that in common with him.  

“Why am I never on duty when things happen?”  Snotlout snaps, forfeiting the staring contest and throwing his arms in the air.

“You aren’t, are you?” Eretson freezes, eyes narrowed, shoulders tense in clothes that suddenly look too small as his jaw flexes.  “What are the chances of everything happening when you’re off duty?”  

It’s a rhetorical question but Snotlout starts to answer anyway, counting on his fingers and rolling his eyes, “well considering two nights off a week, non-consecutive because fuck me, right? And you multiply that by three creepy murders and one gross foot, carry the—”

“In here, both of you,” the detective swings open the interrogation room door and practically tosses Snotlout inside with a firm grip on his upper arm.  He ushers Astrid after him with a dash more patience, and then shuts the two of them in with Ruffnut.  The sound proofing doesn’t go both ways, because Astrid can clearly hear the thud and squeak of Eretson stomping down the hallway in motorcycle boots that clash with Snotlout’s shined shoes even through a wall.  

“Apparently if Eretson is in a bad mood, I get interrogated for being bad at math,” Snotlout stands by the table instead of sitting and Astrid stares at the stack of chairs in the corner, willing herself to get one.  

The one-way mirror on the unfamiliar interrogation room wall sends chills up the back of her neck, triggering her rarely used flight response.  There’s no fighting this, the lock on the door clicked automatically when it shut, and the looming feeling verges on oppressive.  

“Why would he be in a bad mood?”  Ruffnut snorts, “we’ve been having such a stimulating conversation.”  She wiggles unperturbed eyebrows at Astrid and points to a bicep, mouthing something like ‘oh my God’.  

“You realize you’re a murder suspect right now, right?”  The shrill edge introducing itself into Astrid’s voice echoes off of the silent, watching walls.  

“And that I’m right here,” Snotlout flexes anyway, his voice tight.  

“All of you,” the door opens and Eretson shoves Hiccup and Tuffnut inside before turning and blocking Grisly in the doorway.  “Not you.”

“How can I aid in the investigation if you shut me out of the interrogation?”  

“Like he hasn’t been hassling me all day,” Hiccup mumbles, standing easily next to Astrid and twisting to stretch his back.  She’d think he was being cavalier too if it weren’t for the straight, steady set of his shoulders and his never still hands hanging placid at his sides.  

“Maybe we need some space to do our jobs without your creepy face butting into everything.”  Snotlout doesn’t help anything and Eretson’s back stiffens as he forces his hand to relax.  

“Shut up, Jorgenson.” He exhales and turns back to Grisly, white knuckled grip on the edge of the door, “this is still my case, Grisly, and I need the room.”  He doesn’t wait for an answer before slamming it shut and this time, the click of the lock is a defensive measure.  

“That’s basically what I said,” Snotlout huffs under his breath and Eretson ignores him except for an audible grinding of his teeth as he tosses a thick manila folder down onto the table.  

“You,” he points at the twins, “have motive for Gruffnut Thorston’s murder.  Jorgenson here has been off duty for every murder—”

“Consider this, maybe they knew if I was on duty, they wouldn’t get away with it—”

“Hiccup here finds the bodies,” Eretson plows forward, ignoring Snotlout’s interruption, “and sometimes takes Astrid, his alibi, along with him.”  His sigh is heavy, exhausted, and Astrid hates the feeling of being engulfed by the slow expanse of his words, the truth of them filling every corner of the too small room.  “Where’s the connection?”  

“It’s The Venerable Grimdouche, obviously—”

“Shut up, Jorgenson!” Eretson starts pulling pictures out of the folder, some of them bloody, some of them blurry.  Some of them streaked with sharp lines of glare from the too bright overhead light that must be in the evidence room.  “One more sound out of your mouth not in direct answer to one of my questions—”

“But—”

“Sound, Jorgenson, not even word.  Sound.”  Eretson sits down but doesn’t look any smaller.  If anything, he grows, joining his own bulk to the walls surrounding them. “And I’ll arrest you for obstruction of justice.”  

Snotlout thinks about that for a second before gritting his teeth and waving Eretson silently on.  

“How do you all know each other?”  

“Well, Mr. Detective, sir, it all started twenty five years ago when I was a tiny little baby,” Tuffnut starts, “actually technically it starts like twenty-five years plus nine months ago, but I don’t remember that, thank God—”

“We’re twins, obviously,” Ruffnut, as always, caves to rationality only when she’s worried about her brother.  “Astrid was my college roommate.”  

“And like I said, I met Astrid when she moved into 324 Harbor Road and I was giving a tour to that address,” Hiccup says like he’s rehearsed it so often it’s boring now, a pneumonic device for a test he passed ages ago.  

“How did you meet Miss Thorston?”  Eretson makes a note and directs his next question at Snotlout in particular, who points silently at his chest and raises an eyebrow.  “Do you need me to use shorter words?”  

Snotlout’s jaw twitches as his red cheeks verge on purple, “I was just checking you weren’t going to arrest me if I made a sound.”  

“Of course not, I asked you a question.”  

“I met Ruffnut when I went over to Astrid’s apartment to…” he looks nervously at Hiccup, who shrugs, defeated, and waves Snotlout on, “well, you see, after Astrid learned that Hiccup was giving tours to her house, she started saying it was harassment, and I went over there to cool things down, you know?  Let her know that Hiccup is the harmless kind of weirdo, which is still absolutely true, by the way, you think that string bean could kill someone?”

“I’m asking the questions here, Jorgenson.”  Eretson turns to Astrid next, looking at her like she’s a panel of wall he’s only recently been told hides a secret passage.  “What did you know about your apartment when you moved in?”  

“That it was cheap?” Her blood rushes in her ears as she anticipates the next question.  

“Were you aware of the Viggo Grimborn connection to that address?”  

“Viggo Grimborn?” Tuffnut perks up, “wait, you guys think this has something to do with Viggo Grimborn?  Why didn’t you say something?”  

“I just did,” Snotlout crosses his arms, “I just said that Venerial Gono—”

“Jorgenson!”  Eretson points at the cuffs hanging loose from the corner of the table.  “What do you know about Viggo Grimborn, Mr. Thorston?”  

“Only everything,” Tuffnut scoffs, “what does Gruffnut have to do with Viggo Grimborn?”  

“He was found exactly at the second victim’s murder site,” Hiccup says gently and Astrid feels another jolt telling her to run.  “The second victim was at the third site, the first was at the fourth.”  

“Alice Roosevelt didn’t die in Berk, everyone who knows anything knows that,” Tuffnut laughs and looks around, surprised no one is laughing with him.  “Come on, the secret fourth Grimborn victim?  The Bright’s disease connection?  Astrid, did you even read the dossier I gave you?”  

The dossier.  

“Roosevelt?”  Eretson is good at his job.  He’s competent, as Astrid noticed immediately when he appeared in her hallway, stony faced and professional with a video of her trespassing. It seemed like a good thing then. “Are you suggesting you know something about a theory concerning Theodore Roosevelt, future president of the United States, and the Grimborn murders?”  He doesn’t wait for an answer to the question, digging through his folder for a picture near the bottom.  

It’s Tuffnut’s binder, the one Astrid hasn’t thought about since she realized she and Hiccup had overheard a murder on their midnight tour.  The one she’d given to him as punishment for making her read the Admiral Hiccup Haddock book.  

“That’s it!”  Tuffnut nods, “I’m so glad it made it to the proper authorities, I’ll assume you’ll get right on the suggested action in Appendix AB, the sweeping of national park memorials?”  

“This binder was found at the scene of Jennifer Franklin’s murder.”  

“That’s my bad,” Hiccup talks too fast, hands finally flailing, but it’s too late.  “Astrid gave it to me when I dropped her off at her house after our tour and then when I was walking back to my place and—you know, found the—I dropped it.”

“I’d like to talk to Miss Hofferson alone for a moment,” Eretson gets up and opens the door, waving out towards the lobby, “the rest of you can wait outside.  Give the front desk any updates on your information, we should be about done for today.”  

“I’ll stay,” Hiccup volunteers, looking back at Astrid with wide green eyes.  

“No, I should,” Snotlout insists, squaring up against Eretson in the doorway, like he’s going to shove his way in, but Astrid shakes her head.  

“No, it’s fine, I’ve got it.”  

All four of them are still peering through as Eretson closes the door.  

“Sit down, Miss Hofferson.”

She takes Ruffnut’s chair and folds her hands on her lap to stop them from shaking.  

“I talked to Fishlegs Ingerman,” Eretson starts, frustration melting away from his expression as he finds himself oriented on a new path, “and I’d like to run a timeline of events past you.  First, you move into your apartment at 324 Harbor Road, then you’re startled by someone giving a Viggo Grimborn tour past the property.  As I learned from Jorgenson tonight, he came by your apartment to protect Mr. Haddock from yet another trespassing charge and at that point, met Miss Thorston.”  

“That’s all correct so far,” Astrid nods, torn between letting her mind rush ahead or focusing on every nuance coming out of Eretson’s mouth.  Then again, she knows better than anyone that his perspective is the only one that matters now.  

“At the Berk Archives, where you work with Mr. Ingerman, you asked him to help you solve the Grimborn murders as a way of stopping the tours.”  He drums his fingertips on the table like he’s keeping a beat for his thoughts.  “At some point, Mr. Thorston gave you his compiled theory—”

“Dossier.”  She doesn’t want to hear the next part but can’t think of how to stall.  

“Mr. Haddock took you on a private Grimborn tour on the night of Jennifer Franklin’s murder, there is video evidence placing the two of you near the murder site at the approximate time of the event, and now I know that the binder found at the scene was until recently in your possession.”  His voice ramps up, more confident than loud and scarier for it, “the only previous evidence for Mr. Haddock not being at the scene of the crime was that he was walking you home.”

She nods, ‘previous’ floating like a ghost of the situation an hour ago.  

“Then, the night of Dave Ralston’s murder, you were not only with Mr. Haddock on the tour you loathed so much, but you’re his alibi for where he was the hour before his tour, the window of time in which the murder was committed.”  

“Fishlegs was there too.”

Eretson flicks through his notes and his jaw works silently for a second before he looks up at her, eyes narrowed to read the fine print on her forehead.  

“You joined the tour in progress because Mr. Haddock was struggling to keep it moving.”  

“I did,” she tells the truth because she doesn’t know what else she’d say.  Some detached part of her is fascinated with this narrative, wondering how else the truth can twist around these moving benchmarks and warp into an unrecognizable picture.  

“Dave Ralston’s foot was mailed from the archives on a day you were working there.  Jorgenson and Mr. Haddock frequented the bar that Gruffnut Thorston had fraudulently bought under your friend Mr. Thorston’s name. Miss Thorston had been looking for him for months but hadn’t had any luck tracking him down.”  

“Ruffnut put that together herself,” Astrid swallows hard, “she was with Snotlout and he mentioned something about Gruff’s and she took a risk—”

“They wouldn’t know each other if it weren’t for you.  And you were leaving Gruff’s bar when you discovered Gruffnut Thorston’s body.” Eretson slides a picture across the table then.  A picture of an alley with a disjointed body and blonde dreadlocks smeared across bloody concrete.  

Astrid’s nose is numb as she looks steadily at the detective, “all of that is circumstantial and beyond that, none of it is forensic.”  

“I’ll be in touch,” he stands up and opens the door, waving her through with frosty professionalism, “it’d be best for you to stay in town.”  

The twins are nowhere to be seen, but Hiccup and Snotlout are talking by the front door.  Snotlout sees Astrid first and taps Hiccup’s arm, nudging him to look up.  Astrid forces her chin up at their instant worry, swallowing hard against the paralyzing fear trying to well in her throat.  She’s not scared of people or places or things, but institutions are different.  Institutions built on ideas that are grounded by fear.  

It doesn’t feel particularly strong to be scared of fear right now.  

“Hey, what’s up?” Hiccup rests his hands on her upper arms and rubs like he thinks she’s cold.  Maybe she is, she definitely doesn’t care right now.  “You know, he didn’t have to kick me out of the room if he wanted to make fun of Snotlout.”  

“Apparently being an alibi is actually a kind of a shitty alibi to have,” she sighs and lets Hiccup pull her sideways against the wall to make room for someone passing.  

The crisp footfalls pause, leaving the hallway in eerie silence until Snotlout speaks up, louder for having been silenced in the interrogation room.  

“What do you want, Grisly?”

“Eretson is trying so hard to shut me out,” Grisly shrugs as Astrid turns to face him and the cold hits all at once, “I have to search for my information elsewhere.”  

“Right,” Hiccup’s arm lands reassuringly across her shoulders, “you probably didn’t get much from making me look at mutilated corpses all day while describing how they got that way.”  

“I mean, he probably got hard,” Snotlout mumbles under his breath and Grisly’s falsely pleasant expression shatters for an instant into a wolfish glare, more starving than his usual malignant patience.  “Big weekend plans?”  

“I don’t know what conclusions Eretson jumped to, Astrid,” Grisly says her name like a brag, “but rest assured, I’ll set his misgivings straight soon enough.”  

“Really?  We didn’t bond today?”  Hiccup snorts, “you don’t want to chat about our weekends?”  

“Well, I’m sure you two will be together,” Grisly laughs, poison dipped nails on a chalkboard, “however young Hiccup here managed to convince you that he’s a good idea.”  

“Yeah, we all have eyes, Grisly, we can see she’s way fucking hotter than him,” Snotlout crosses his arms, “Get to a point or go start skinning cats or whatever you do off the clock.”  

“Thanks for summing that up,” Hiccup nods at Snotlout and Grisly and then looks at the door, “I’ve had about enough police station for the millennia, how about you?”  

“Fair,” she tries not to feel the chilled pinpoints of Grisly’s eyes on her face as she nods, “I just want to go home.”  

“Oh,” he lowers his voice and even Snotlout has the social grace to look away, but Grisly’s still listening, frozen in the hallway with his gray uniform casting all of the walls into grayscale, “I was thinking, given the circumstances it might make more sense for you to come back to my place.”  

“Given the circumstances,” she parrots, tone dull like ‘dossier’ interrupting Eretson’s interrogation. “I’m not scared to be at my place, Hiccup.  It’s not like the locks haven’t been updated since eighteen-eighty-three.”  

Astrid has never been one to swerve.  Swerving implies losing control somewhere between this course and the next one. Astrid pivots.  She finds one thing she trusts to stay still, one anchor in an otherwise unwieldy situation and she plants her heel, relying on the friction until she has a new direction.

“I didn’t say you were scared.”  Hiccup is scared, she can see it and it makes her want to be stronger.  To ground herself even in the midst of all these impossible, too clear theories spinning around in her head.  

She told Hiccup that he didn’t seem to have much choice how involved he is in all of this, but maybe that’s not the same for her.  Even if it is, she’s not ready to accept that yet.  

“I’m fine at my place.” If she knows anything for sure, it’s that swerving is how people fall.  “Where are the twins?”  

“They’re talking to Johnson about the wrong name on the bar, it’s going to take a while,” Snotlout interrupts, ushering them away and glaring at Grisly one last time, “let’s ditch the creepy, nosy audience.”  

“Oh, Jorgenson?” Grisly calls before Snotlout can get the front door open and he reluctantly turns around.  “I talked to your superior officer, we agree it would be best if you were suspended for the remainder of this investigation.  I’m sure you understand.”  

“What?”  Snotlout and Hiccup snap simultaneously.  

“Given your friends continued involvement, we can’t risk any leaks.  You can turn in your gun and badge at the front desk.”  Grisly nods condescendingly before turning and disappearing into a back room.  

Snotlout has to stay to fill out paperwork regarding his suspension and Hiccup offers to walk Astrid home, but she can’t accept.  Not because she doesn’t want to or because his falsely blasé presence isn’t comforting, that would be easier, but because she has to go find Fishlegs and figure out what he told Eretson.  

It's the truth, of course, just colored wrong and on an edge, like an Enquirer through a standard lens. She doesn’t tell him what happened at the station.  

Hiccup texts, making fun of Grisly mostly, and maybe that’s what feels normal enough for Astrid to sleep after checking the deadbolt a third time.  In fact, she oversleeps and somewhere between rushing to work and settling into the monotony of sorting through probably useless scraps of paper, she forgets to dwell on every detail of Eretson’s realization.  Worse, she starts working through them, trying to see how they fit.  

She hates that she’s still thinking about this logically, like she’s studying a case from afar instead of sitting vulnerable in the middle of one.  She hates that she doesn’t blame Eretson for the targeted round of questions after her unfortunate circumstances clicked in a room full of suspicious people, all of their connections orbiting around her.  

Above all, Astrid resents that she expects handcuffs when someone knocks at her door a little while after she gets home from work.  

Her umbrella is still by the door and her hand hovers above the handle as she looks through the peephole.

It’s not Eretson. It’s not handcuffs at all, after yesterday.  

It’s Hiccup’s top hat sitting a few inches lower than she’s used to on Snotlout’s head and she forgets the weaponized umbrella and opens the door.  He claps his hand over his eyes and she cocks her hip, arms crossed.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re not flashing me or anything, right?”  He peeks between his fingers with a shit-eating grin, like he just invented humor with that inane statement and Astrid almost slams the door in his face. “Kidding, geez, I know you’re into the hat, so I was worried it would be like reflex to—”

“Again, with less patience this time, what are you doing?”  She sighs, caught between inviting him in and enduring the twitchiness that sets in whenever her front door is open for too long.  

“I thought we could hang out,” he holds up a six pack in his hand and she narrows her eyes, scanning his expression.  Usually, he doesn’t look much like Hiccup.  Not nearly as much as Astrid looks like her own cousins, anyway, but right now, when he’s worried about her and lying badly about it, the resemblance is obvious.  

“You’re here to guard my apartment, aren’t you?”  She huffs, “I told you, I’m fine—”

“Yeah, you were really insistent about that at the station,” he rolls his eyes, “made you look super innocent, Astrid, good job.  You know who wouldn’t be afraid of a murderer coming to their apartment?  Someone who is the murderer.”  

She bites the inside of her cheek to hold back a useless, childish retort, but her nostrils still flare with the desire to blurt it out anyway.  The standoff lasts until Snotlout breaks eye contact to look over her shoulder into her place and she steps aside.  

“Come on in.”  She shuts the door behind him and locks it, double checking the deadbolt with practiced fingers.  “Was Ruffnut busy or something?” She asks and his shrug is unconvincing as he messes with the top hat on his head.  The hat and the curtains are the only things that seem like they belong in the space right now.  “Or did Hiccup ask you to keep an eye on me?  Because that is such—”

“Hey, Hiccup doesn’t tell me what to do,” Snotlout opens a bottle on the edge of the countertop like he’s never had to worry about a security deposit, but he at least he offers it to her first. She takes it, waving the rest of his explanation on. “And Eretson is a pompous, tall dickhead who thinks he knows everything, but all of this creepy shit has been happening nights when I’m off duty.”  

“I thought you were suspended,” she swallows back her flippant tone as soon as his face falls, “not—that’s not the same as off duty, that’s all.”  

“No, suspended with pay is different than being off duty, since I’m suspended without pay it’s the same thing,” he opens another beer and grumbles under his breath, “if I’d shot someone on accident, keep the money coming, but make friends with Hiccup’s new, equally unlucky girlfriend…”  

“If you were just going to get suspended anyway, maybe you should have vouched for Ruffnut when it mattered.”  

He shakes his head, like he has grounds to be disappointed in her.  “Oh, you mean before you came from behind and took the top suspect spot?” He says plainly and she appreciates the candor. “And I was serious, it would be kind of shitty for me to act as a witness here, especially because I was with her when some psycho gutted Gruffnut.”  

“You couldn’t have just said that she wasn’t actually threatening him?” She fiddles with the soggy corner of her beer bottle’s label.  

“Not in uniform,” he sighs, “not knowing what she’d do to convince me say something like that if she was the psycho who gutted Gruffnut.”  

“She’s not.”  

“I know that,” he scowls, “and Eretson knows that and he’ll find something that doesn’t make me one of those crooked cops who can be sucked off—“

“I don’t need to know that,” Astrid hits him again with less intent this time.  

“I never get any appreciation for trying to do the right thing.”  

“Why should you?”  She frowns, “yet.  Maybe I’ll appreciate your…near decency later when everything’s done turning out ok.”  

“Right, like it’ll take that long before I do something heroic and win you over.”  He winks and it’s all wrong under the brim of Hiccup’s hat.

“So you came over here to befriend me?”  She raises an eyebrow, leaning back against her only chair and crossing her ankles. Having him here is comfortable enough for her to prod the conversation along.  Not necessarily familiar, but better than being alone and jumping at every creak outside her door.  

“I already told you, you’re my bro by extension.”  He’s too sincere, which makes it awkward that they’ve discovered murder victims and been suspects together.  “Plus, if we’re going get this friend-group going without Eretson tagging along or Ruffnut…” The sincerity deepens, uncomfortable, and Astrid bites back an apology on Ruff’s behalf.  “Anyway, we’ve got to form cross-group bonds.”  

“Right,” she nods, “for the good of the friend-group.  That’s what I’m really concerned about right now.”  

“Why do you think I’m taking this upon myself?”  The bravado is back as he leans back against her counter, taking off Hiccup’s hat and twirling it on his finger.  “You and Hiccup have been so preoccupied being Virgin Gorgonzola nerds—”

“Virgin Gorgonzola?”

“The first creepy killer guy, whatever, I don’t listen to any of the shit Hiccup says about him.” Snotlout is purposefully stupid in a way Astrid could never manage, even when it would have been convenient or even kind.  

“Let me get this straight, you’re saying Hiccup and I are too preoccupied with Viggo Grimborn,” she enunciates carefully and he rolls his eyes, “and it’s bad for this ‘friend-group’ concept you keep mentioning?”  

“It’s what he did with Heather,” Snotlout pauses and Hiccup’s hat tilts to one side, “you’ve met Heather, right?  Black hair, really hot, works at the geeky bar where Hiccup’s weirdo tours start?” Something in her expression must prompt him to rephrase because he continues, “not that you’re not hot, you’re super hot, it’s just different kinds of hot.  She’s like ‘stab me when I’m not looking, and I have no idea what I did’ hot and you’re like ‘punch me in the face in public and I know exactly what I did’ hot.”

She doesn’t expect to laugh, but that’s the first statement she hasn’t had to take seriously in what feels like forever.  

“Not sure what that says about you, but thanks, I guess.”  She weighs that and wrinkles her nose, “maybe I get you and Ruffnut a little more now.”

“Whatever, that’s not what we’re talking about,” he scowls at the new mention of Ruffnut, “when Hiccup was first starting to give his tours he met Heather and it was nice until Hiccup was too obsessed with Grimborn,” he says it right, pointedly humoring her, “to notice that Heather had a raging crush on him and everything got weird.”  

“Didn’t Heather steal his research?” The concept of Heather having a crush on Hiccup settles off-kilter in Astrid’s stomach. Like that time Snotlout gave her a ride home after the second body was discovered, she feels silly to care about kisses and insignificant little spikes of jealousy when people are dying, but she can’t help it.  

“Right, his research,” Snotlout quotes with an outturned pinky, holding his beer like he’s ready for tea with the queen.  “Is that what you’re after?  His research?” The protective but still suggestive way that Snotlout asks the question is perversely sweet, like he’s a doting chaperone who cares more about Hiccup than the concept of virtue.

“I can do my own research,” she diverts diplomatically and Snotlout frowns.  

“I was using research as slang for di—”

“I’m aware of that,” she cuts him off, “I just don’t really think it’s any of your business.”  

“You’d think that, but given our apartment’s thin old walls, I’ve heard plenty.  None of it complaining.”  He raises his beer in a toast five feet away from her and she wonders how shame is distributed among people and how Snotlout’s got lost.  “Not that I’d listen to a friend on purpose, that’s a dick move.”  His expression is more conciliatory than apologetic, offering to take honest responsibility for his delivery without promising to change.  

The first time she met Snotlout, she felt a flash of kinship, because he cleans up after Hiccup the way she does after Ruffnut.  His acceptance that he’s some shade of asshole deepens it further because lately she’s been struggling to walk the tight-rope between black and white.  

“It might be easier for us to be friends if you weren’t so involved in my hypothetical sex life.”  

“No,” he doesn’t even pause to think about that suggestion, “it’s way easier to try and get Hiccup laid than it is to come to terms with being friends with such a nerd.”  

“Hey!”  She looks for something to throw at him and settles for a box of tissues on her crooked coffee table.  

“Don’t spill the beer—”

A dull, sure knock in the courtyard reverberates through the old, heavy window, the sound dodging through pulled back curtains and stalling Astrid’s laughter in her throat.  

“And you said you weren’t scared,” Snotlout snorts, tone light but face serious as he goes to look out the window, shoulders stiff to fill a uniform he’s not wearing.  “Oh shit, that’s probably the pizza I ordered, looks like the outside door is locked.”  

“That door’s unlocked until ten,” she tries to shake off the startled tremor in her chest, “and you ordered a pizza?  How’d you know I was even going to let you in?”  

“I had the hat,” he puts the top hat back on his head, “I’ll go get it.”  

She’s not scared.  She’s balking like a horse who won’t cross a frozen river, caught between fear and stubbornness.  She should offer to go with him, but that would be admitting it’s a two-person job to collect a pizza from the front door and she’s been too righteous to back down now.  

The only thing worse than being scared is getting used to it, adapting to it, living with it like a roommate she never wanted.  

“Sure,” she nods and the knock echoes again, the sound magnified by the narrow hallway as Snotlout opens the front door.  

“Don’t worry, if it’s the murderer I’ll just bore them to death with my Hiccup impression,” he tips the top hat at her with a nasal ‘milady’ on the way out.  

Outside, it looks like the pizza guy is giving up, disappearing behind the ‘Al, I. Safe’ wall on the way.  Snotlout sees him though, jogging to catch up, the hat casting a long shadow in the sallow circle of the street light.  There’s a pause just long enough for her to feel stupid.  

The door is old, it probably locked behind Snotlout or was stuck shut with some mud and the pizza guy didn’t want to yank on it.  She really needs to stop jumping at every little sound, especially given that she knows the other murders respected modern structures.  They weren’t in the condos, they were out back at approximated locations.  Hell, even if some crazy person is targeting her place, it’s more likely there’ll be a body in the courtyard.  

The courtyard is hardly even her place.  It’s her building, her sphere, sure, but off-center.    

The sudden pop is so loud it rattles the window and Astrid flinches, sure the glass is about to shatter. The second pop comes before she has time to breathe or think or restart her heart.  

Gunshots don’t echo like fireworks do.  

Gunshots pulse, singular jolts of force against the wall of air, shifting reality a meaningful increment where fireworks just fizz and pop, making a scene for no reason at all. Gunshots echo off of old courtyard walls like flickers of remembered violence, and the throbbing leaves the pause between Astrid’s heartbeats feeling like dead silence.  

She grabs the umbrella and runs outside.  

#ripped #hiccstrid #modern au #serial killer tour guide au #coplout #gun tw #ngl i've been looking forward to this one ever since I had the idea like two months ago #working towards this moment

[jiggly-rough]

Untitled

I started this story a few months ago & honestly don’t know how to finish, so I’m just going to keep writing until that happens.

  My name is Tanya. I’m a 20-year-old college student trying to make something of myself. I go to the local university because leaving my family right now, even if it is for my education, is just not an option for me. I’m majoring in business and communications is my minor. Now with finals coming up, me and my friends decided to plan a little getaway over the break. Nothing to crazy, just something to help us unwind & take our minds off of things for a minute. We wanted to do something different, get out of our comfort zone a little bit so we decided to go stay in a cabin in the woods. You don’t even have to say it, we already know. It actually turned out being super cliché & corny. But I’m sure we’ll all have a good time. It’s going to me, my boyfriend James, his cousin Toby and her girlfriend Stacey, my classmate and right-hand man Amanda and her flavor of the month Jackson. Don’t get the wrong idea about Amanda, she’s a good girl at heart, she just gets tired of these dudes after a few months. It could have something to do with the fact that they’re all hot garbage. But that’s another story. I and James have been together going on 1 year now and time has literally flown by. It’s actually Jackson’s lake house that we’ll be staying in, it’s right on Lake Tahoe. This would be all of our first time doing something like this. Well except Jackson, his family is LOADED, and this is just another week for him. But for us? We were all excited & a little terrified. Because this is the perfect set up for a horror movie. “Hey Tanya, how prepared are you for this trip?” Amanda asks. It was almost like she didn’t really want to go. “Girl, we’re leaving in a week, I have plenty of time to pack. Why are you asking? Are YOU prepared for this trip?” I ask in a ‘what about it’ type of tone. “I mean I know what I’m bringing or whatever. I just don’t know about Jackson.” “Here you go with your bullshit!” I said. I knew this was coming. They’re coming up on 6 months of dating & I’ve honestly never seen this girl so happy. Compared to the hot garbage she would usually choose, I actually liked Jackson. I know exactly what you’re thinking because I was thinking the same thing. A super rich black man named Jackson just screams pretentious, jock, dumb. But he’s surprisingly none of those things. Although he comes from money, he doesn’t act like it. And all I know is that he’s treating my best friend like the queen she is. So he’s alright in my book. “Um you do realize that he’s the reason we’re even able to go on this FREE TRIP anyway, right?” “Yea, yea I know that Tanya. It just seems like he’s too perfect, you know what I mean. It’s scaring me to be honest.” “Of course you’re scared, hell I would be if I were in your shoes too. But you now focusing on what could happen instead of what is happening is always a bad idea. And he hasn’t given you any reason to think he’s going to do anything to hurt you so just chill. To me it seems like he wants to take your relationship to the next level. I would just live at the moment Amanda.” I said. It’s no secret that the majority of guys are age are trash. So for her to have something real is scary for her. I just have to make sure she at lease gives him a chance first. “Oh I have to go, James is calling me.” I hang up with Amanda and answer for James “Good morning beautiful!” He says in a very enthusiastic tone. “Um.....good morning babe, what’s got you in such a good mood this morning?” I ask. In the 4 years that I’ve known him, he’s never ever ever been a morning person. “Well I just logged in and saw that I aced my arch final which brings my average up to a 3.5 which I never thought I could do so hell yea I’m excited. I’m talking to the most beautiful girl in the whole entire world & it’s Friday, so that means we are definitely going out to celebrate later. ”Aww babe, I knew you could do it! I’m so proud of you!!!” I practically screamed because he’s been working super hard. “I did have you on my damn neck about it so I had no choice. I just want to thank you for always being there to push me when I didn’t feel like doing it.” “You damn right I am boy! The same way you’re always on my ass about me getting my degree, I have no choice but to be on yours.” I love the way we’re basically both best friends who can fuck from time to time. “So we gotta talk about Stacey.” I could hear the smile from his face. But I had to butter him up before bringing the mood down. Listen, I try to be as open minded as possible BUT, that girl is a few crew members short of a full deck if you catch my drift. See Toby didn’t even know what to tell us. It looks like she practices Wicca but some of the things we’ve seen or overheard her doing are completely out of that realm. Almost like some occult type shit. Anyway, we welcomed her with open arms. Even if they were shaking a little bit. “Awww man, what is it Tanya? Just talking about her makes me feel like she’s putting a curse on me man.” He did sound a little concerned. Like he was looking over his shoulder as he spoke. Not gonna lie, this made me giggle a little bit. “That’s exactly why we should have the conversation. All I’m saying is 7 days in the middle of nowhere seems like her type of party, not ours. I just want to make sure everything goes as smoothly. I’ll give Toby a call & see if we can meet for lunch or something.” “Alright man, just remember last time we tried talking to Stacey about how weird she was being & that damn near sent her to the hospital” “I know, I know. But I remember Toby mentioning something about her seeing a doctor so hopefully that won’t happen again. I’m heading into class, I’ll talk to you in a bit.” I hang up & sit through an amazingly slow 2 hour lecture class about Human Resource Management. Mind blowing. Really. I texted Toby about the whole double lunch date & she sounded like she had something to tell us as well. So yea, I was just a tad excited. “Do you know what you want to eat, like REALLY know what you want. Cause you know how you get.” I sensed a bit of annoyance in Toby’s voice. She has a right. I’m the definition of indecisive. “You already know she’s going to want Chipotle!” Amanda practically screamed from the backseat. We decided to make the lunch a group thing since we were all free anyway. Amanda was riding with us and Jackson was going to meet us there. And yes, Amanda was right, I wanted Chipotle. Toby came alone, which was a little strange but I know that Stacey has a super busy schedule so I didn't think too much into it. "So you guys, I think I want to propse to Stacey." Toby said. We were all pretty taken aback by this, seeing as their relationship hasn't exactly been the greatest. "Are you are you really want to do that?" Amanda asked. "I mean yea, we know y'all have been good for a about a month or so but we all remember a time when it was something going on every other day with you two." There was nothing we could say in rebuttal to that because it was the truth. One time Toby called me at 2am because Stacey just started flipping the hell out on here because she thought she was sleeping with her study partner. It got pretty hectic. The cops were called & surprisingly enough Stacey almost filed a restraining order against Toby. They made up 2 days later though. "You know, Amanda, you're right. But like you said, we've been good. And I've somehow fallen in love with her all over again." Toby said, proudly I might add. Hey man, if my cousin is head over heels for this psycho, I guess I could put everything else aside & learn to be ok with her too. "Well, I'm happy for you Toby. Let me guess, you want to do it on the trip, don't you?" I said. I swear I saw her turn red. It was so adorable. She rummaged around her backpack for something & pulled out an old Victorian style ring box. It was beautiful. It was purple crushed velvet with a gold trim. The ring was just as stunning. It was a gold opal ring with diamonds around it. "Goodness Toby, you're setting the bar pretty high for the rest of us, huh?" said James. I just looked at him & giggled. "Well I want her to know that I'm serious. I know you guys don't like her all that much but if you just got to know her without the weird stuff, you'd like her too." I'm surprised she actually acknowledged that we didn't like her. It had been kind of a taboo subject since they've been together. “Is there a her without with the weird stuff though?” Amanda asks sarcastically. I just looked her, kind of surprised, and trying not to laugh. Toby must have found it funny too, because the laugh she chortled out broke the awkward silence. “Of course there is Manda, I think she just acts like that around people as some sort of defense mechanism.” She explained. “Ohhhh, ok. Well I’m happy for you Toby, really, I am.” Amanda said. We all got our food, ate, joked, and sighed when we realized that we all had to get back to our lives.

#story #writing #rough draft

[tuanyiems]

The Space Between Your Fingers 16

Mark Tuan x OC Genre: Fluff, angst, slice of life Words: 2.1k [Masterlist] [Series Masterlist] - [RECAP] She blushed, turning the knob of the door, while trying to keep composed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Wow, what a lie,” Yugyeom laughed, entering the house. “You two were—” “Hey kids,” Yugyeom’s mom interrupted. “Ahnmi,” Yugyeom’s dad added solemnly. “We need to talk.” Ahnmi watched as her aunt and uncle shuffled in their seats on the couch, her aunt’s hands nervously folded in her lap. “It’s about your school enrollment.” - Ch. 16: Walls Up “We talked to your parents over the phone today,” Mrs. Kim started, her eyes glancing towards her husband for reassurance. “They suggested you study abroad and—” “Why would Noona transfer schools again?” Yugyeom cut in, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “She did nothing wrong!” “We know that,” Mrs. Kim quipped back though her eyes softened when they returned to Ahnmi. “We really do know that, Ahnmi. But maybe this might be the best for you.” “Wow, I can’t believe you two!” Yugyeom yelled back. “Yugyeom,” his father reprimanded quietly.

“You know how it is in a small town,” her aunt went on. “People talk. I was at the market this evening and even the granny at the fruit stand knew about what happened.” “So what if people know? It’s not like she did anything wrong.” Yugyeom defended. Ahnmi fingered at the ends of her sleeves uncomfortably. She was suddenly feeling sick to her stomach. She didn’t want to come between Yugyeom and his parents. Suddenly it felt like watching her mom and dad argue with each other. And all because of her. “We know you did nothing wrong,” Mrs. Kim took Ahnmi’s hands in hers. “We just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable living here. The marketplace people,” her voice dropped to a whisper. “They know about the scars on your arms too. They’ve been talking about it.” “We’re suggesting this because we want to protect you,” Mr. Kim added. “It’ll be better for you to leave to some—” “You’re kicking your own niece out,” Yugyeom scoffed in disbelief. “What kind of aunt and uncle—” “Yugy,” Ahnmi spoke softly, hand placed firmly over his arm. “It’s okay, I understand.” She forced out a smile to her aunt and uncle. She knew they were only trying their best too. They had lived in this neighborhood for so long but all of a sudden she spends a few months here and they’re the talk of the town. She didn’t want to do that to them. She looked at the gentle eyes of her uncle and the nervous hands of her aunt. “Can you give me more time to think about this?” And with a quiet nod, Ahnmi got up and disappeared behind the door of her bedroom. The next morning Mark watched as Yugyeom exited his house alone. “Where’s Ahnmi?” Yugyeom only huffed in annoyance, shaking his head. “Tell the guys we need to meet up. My parents are being idiots and now Ahnmi won’t leave her room.” “They did something to her?” Mark arched his eyebrows with concern. “Maybe I should go talk to her.” Yugyeom shrugged his shoulders. “You can try. She hasn’t left her room since we got home last night. She’s pulling an Ahnmi.” “Pulling an Ahnmi?” Yugyeom sighed, “When bad things happen she just closes up and stops responding. Goes out of order.” Mark gave Yugyeom a look but held his tongue. Even if that was a thing she did. Why did he have to phrase it like that? Maybe Ahnmi had reason for closing up. Or maybe everyone around her was just not trying hard enough to get in? “Anyways,” Yugyeom went on as they made their way to school. “Tell the guys we need to meet during break.” Mark walked on silently, wondering why Yugyeom was being so mysterious. Even when his first period lesson began, he couldn’t shake off his worry. “You okay man?” Peniel nudged him after the class ended. Mark answered with a quiet sigh. “Did you see her yesterday?” “Who?” “Go Ahnmi.” Mark’s ears perked up as he jerked his body towards the voice. Two guys he didn’t recognize were standing outside the classroom. “Fuck, really? She came to school?” “Yeah a bunch of people saw her coming in around the end of the day. Said she was sitting in the garden by herself. Looked like she was waiting for you.” The other guy laughed. “Liar, you’re just trying to make me feel bad.” Mark’s face darkened as he watched the boy’s face spread into a derisive smile while the other egged him on. “Fuck yeah man, people said she was holding onto your letter!” “Piss off dude! You know I only wrote that cause I lost the bet.” “Yeah right, you guys were literally squealing about her just a week ago.” The guy sighed, chuckling to himself. “Good thing we found out about her before yesterday then. I dodged a bullet.” His friend laughed, pulling him into a headlock. “Yeah, it’s the pretty ones that are the craziest!” Mark bit his lip, his hands clenched in fists so tight his knuckles were turning white. He stood up from his seat, ready to fight those two guys when Peniel grabbed his wrist. He looked at Mark, shaking his head. “Don’t waste your time.” “I hate this whole school,” Mark groaned under his breath as he sat back down. He was so angry his eyes were beginning to water. He admittedly first felt dread at the idea of other guys trying to confess and date Ahnmi. He was being selfish. He wanted Ahnmi all to himself, wanted her to only look for him and smile for him. But when he saw the look on her face after reading the letter, she was puzzled and surprised but ever so slightly, her lips had raised into a hint of a smile. That was all he needed to let go of his own selfishness. If a love letter would bring Ahnmi happiness, despite his own jealousy, he resigned to be happy for her too. As long as it was just a letter of course. Even when she was coming out of the hospital, the letter had been on her mind. Even in that state, Ahnmi was still worrying about others instead of herself. And to think those guys were messing with her emotions, with her sincerity, as a joke! Mark wanted to smash their skulls. Maybe that would knock some sense into them. But it wasn’t just those guys Mark hated. He hated the silence of the whole school. Everyone was so quick to turn their backs on Ahnmi. A part of him was glad Ahnmi took a few days off from school. This building was so full of idiots. He just couldn’t understand the fickleness of everyone. The day before the festival students were literally vibrating in their seats at the thought of socializing with class 2B and meeting Ahnmi. Suddenly it was like a curse to even say her name. Where did their logic go when they decided to make Ahnmi out into the enemy? That shit just didn’t make sense. He didn’t even want to think about the silence from the teachers either. Mark grumbled in his seat, burying his head in the crook of his arm on top of his desk. Why did he even go to school today? He should’ve tried talking to Ahnmi. Even if he had to sit outside her room all day, it would’ve been better than having to be here. - “Why did you want us to meet?” Jaebum asked Yugyeom as all seven guys gathered in the student council office. Yugyeom sighed. “Do you guys know if anyone’s doing anything about Ahnmi’s perpetrators?” There was a moment of silence between all of them as Jaebum and Jinyoung sat with their eyes on the ground. Mark felt his anger flaring up again. “Faculty has been avoiding our inquiries,” Jinyoung finally admits. “We’ve had a history of bullying. All schools have it, it’s unavoidable,” Jaebum added. “But it seems the teachers have always been turning their eyes away because we’ve been an all-boys school until now. Now that the population has changed, and the severity of this case, nobody seems to know what they’re doing.” “So they’re going to just fucking ignore what happened?” Mark spoke up angrily, filling the room with even more tension. Only Jinyoung was able to look him back in the eye with a steady expression. “The student council is going to stand by Ahnmi no matter what, even if it means going to the police ourselves.” “But we’re trying to settle this internally before it can get to that point,” Jaebum interrupted. “The issue is that no one’s speaking up. There are no witnesses willing to give names of any of the perpetrators or even testify to seeing the bullying Ahnmi’s been receiving prior to the festival.” “Everyone’s afraid they’ll be the next target if they speak up,” Bambam spoke up dejectedly. “Well, whatever you guys are doing, you better do it faster,” Yugyeom mumbled, his brows knitted in silent frustration. “Ahnmi might be transferring schools again—abroad.” Mark felt his chest constrict with fear at the quiet confession, a chill running down his spine. “My parents were trying to convince her last night,” Yugyeom continued. His stoic expression broke into one of sadness. “I think she might listen to them this time.” “This time?” Jackson questioned, his brows knitted with similar sentiments. Yugyeom frowned, staring at his nervous fingers on the desk. “When Ahnmi transferred here from her old school, the original intention was to send her abroad.” Mark clenched his jaw, his finger nails digging into the palm of his hand from holding his fists so tightly. His eyes were tearing up out of anger and frustration again. All he could think about was why he was wasting his time sitting in an empty classroom right now? He should be with Ahnmi right now. “I have to go.” “We still have afternoon session.” But Mark was already running out of the room. - Ahnmi sat at the foot of her bed, staring blankly. She felt empty—like all her anxieties had been leading up to this moment so when it came it was almost like a big exhale. Except this exhale didn’t come with relief. It just felt never ending, like she would never be able to inhale again. She knew it was going to happen. Why did she even pretend to not? So she could keep false hope? So she could play pretend with Mark? Ahnmi didn’t want to think about Mark. It would only make her sad again. There was a knock on her door. Ahnmi just stared emptily at the lock on her door. She thought she was home alone but maybe her aunt left work early. “Hey,” the voice that filters through is barely above a whisper but Ahnmi’s heart pulses in surprise. “Can you open the door?” She only bites at her quivering lips, remaining at the foot of her bed. For what feels like the hundredth time since last night, Ahnmi’s eyes well up with hot tears. This was why she didn’t want to think about him. “Please,” he utters quietly behind the door. The tears slip from her eyes but she makes no move to get up. For a while things are just silent as Ahnmi cries to herself and if it weren’t for the shadow beneath the crack under her door, she would’ve thought he left. “Don’t cry, Mi,” he finally speaks up again, but his voice cracks and she knows he’s crying too. It makes her chest hurt even more. “You don’t have to open the door,” he begins again. “Just listen to me. I’m sorry. We’re all sorry we couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry Yugyeom’s parents and your parents are doing this. What they’re telling you really isn’t a solution at all. You can’t keep running away. You shouldn’t run away. There’s nothing you should be running away from. You did nothing wrong. You know that right?” Ahnmi shakes her head, wiping at her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater. She did so many things wrong. She shouldn’t have come to stay here in the first place. She shouldn’t have been so selfish. The biggest one seemed to be getting Mark involved. In the end, she just hurt the people around her. “Things won’t be the same if you leave,” Mark mutters. “Just…Just stay, okay? Don’t listen to anyone else, okay? Me and the guys, we’ve got your back. We’ll protect you this time.” Ahnmi’s heart longs to trust in his words. All she wants is to remain in his world. But her phone vibrates beside her and it brings her back to reality. A text from her dad is all she needs to pocket her hopes in the dark closet of her mind again. Ahnmi we’ll come get you tomorrow. - Thanks for reading! This series updates every Friday and Saturday 8PM EST.

#got7creators #got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #mark tuan fanfic #got7 imagines #kpop scenarios #series #the space between your fingers #ch 16

[robotslenderman]

Content warning for weight talk in doggy context.

So. Here’s what happened this morning:

We went up to the central coast and met with with two vets and a gentleman -- one of the vets is Mum’s friend who fostered JJ, the other is the vet (nurse?) who was looking after Skye, and the gentleman is the grandson of the bloke who used to have Skye, before he got put into a nursing home.

(So I was wrong -- not a woman and her daughter, but a man and his grandson.)

Brooke, the nurse, met us at the door with Skye and pretty much jumped us with a bag of treats immediately imploring us to give her treats. I was the one who was first to get the bag of treats, and in Skye’s book that makes me her new favourite person.

Because it turns out Skye is a nervous nipper. And I mean very nervous. That’s why Brooke immediately had us bribe her -- she wanted to get us off on the right foot ASAP, and because I did I didn’t get growled at.

Mum and Dad both made the mistake of trying to pat her without treats, and both of them got growled at and snapped at.

Cue Brooke immediately laughing nervously and telling us everything is fine. Brooke, it turns out, is a nervous talker -- she pretty much chatted endlessly throughout the whole meeting.

The grandson is a lovely bloke, the polar opposite of the dude Skye used to be with.

This is Skye’s story: 

As a puppy, his granddad took her in and pretty much tied her up in the backyard and left her there for four years. Occasionally he’d hit her with a cane. As a result, Skye is very easily spooked, has not been socialised with people, and is very nervous of strangers. She seems to be OK with dogs so far -- every time the grandson went over he’d take Skye off the lead and let her play with his dogs, but he could only go up so often (it turns out he lives twenty minutes away from us, so almost two hours from his granddad) to play with her.

So Skye’s weight went up. And up. And up.

She’s 35 kilos.

For context, JJ is was 25 kilos and was considered chubby and “could do with a bit of weight loss”, but not so bad that anyone ever made anything more than a passing comment. But Skye is very slow to move around, though she does like to move around. While everyone was talking, I took a walk with the grandson and Skye and he told me her story. We wandered partway up the block, then back a couple of times, just getting used to handling her.

Mum was very, very nervous around her. Dad got snapped at at least twice and yelped at once. Dad was very chill about it but Mum got jumpy, and I don’t blame her. I was beginning to think we wouldn’t bring her home. Even Mum’s vet friend was concerned.

The vet who looked after Skye then suggested we have a four week trial, to see how she gets along. Mum and Dad talked about it and I took her for another small walk. A bit after we came back (and Skye snapped at Dad again), Mum and Dad agreed with it. Four weeks seems long enough to see if the nipping will be an issue we can’t deal with.

Because she was nippy, I was not comfortable with the idea of going back home with her in the car with me, as I’d be in the backseat with her and she’d literally be a cornered, anxious animal, and we’d be on the expressway. As we’d just found out the grandson lived very close to us, he offered to take her back in his car and drop her at our place, which we accepted.

When we came back, we quickly found a new issue:

Skye cannot Stairs.

She’s never seen stairs before.

She’s seen steps, but not stairs. Even as I type this, over two hours later, she still hasn’t gone up the stairs.

Our house has a spiral staircase and is designed weirdly, so the lounge room, kitchen, etc, are all upstairs, so most people are upstairs most of the time. To live with us long term, Skye has to be able to go up and down those stairs.

We suspect part of it is that her weight has damaged her hips -- she can put her front paws on the stairs but she won’t put her back paws up, and after I made this observation out loud the grandson said that they’d had trouble getting her into the car because “she’d put her front paws in, but not her back paws, and she yelped when we tried to pick her up to put her in the car.”

So that is interesting.

But we’ve got four weeks. So we just moved her bed downstairs. Maybe she’ll make it up the stairs in the next month, maybe she won’t. We do not know if we will keep her beyond the four weeks, but living downstairs for now means that Ginny the ferret is now upstairs and Skye has taken over the bottom floor. She also tried to take over the bathroom (her bed was in a bathroom while she was staying with the vet), so we’ve had to kick her out of there and keep the door shut because if she’s lying down somewhere she gets antsy if people try to get past her. (She claimed the spot in front of the front door and her hackles went up when poor Dad had to leave to get some milk, poor buggers.)

Right now she’s lying down outside my door. Took her out for an amble around the garden and she enjoyed that, and when she’d had enough she headed back inside on her own. After that she actually tried to go up the stairs after me, but then she realised she’d have to move her back legs up and stopped, again.

Bro isn’t talking to any of us and hasn’t given the dog more than a passing glance when he had to get past her to go to the bathroom.

We will see how the next month goes.

#Dusty's doggus #weight cw #Skye chronicles

[arrowdaily]

Monday’s installment of Arrow ended with Curtis Holt, aka Mr. Terrific (Echo Kellum), bidding adieu to Star City for a job in Washington, D.C. With that onscreen move comes Kellum’s official departure from the CW superhero show as a series regular, EW can now reveal.

In ‘Star City Slayer,” Curtis received a job offer from the Kohler Humanitarian Institute in DC because of the technology he’s developed. As he weighed his options, the team started tracking a serial killer, which led to Curtis using his tech to save Dinah (Juliana Harkavy) after the killer slit her throat. That feat helped him make the decision to take the job, because it would allow him to help as many people as possible. Diggle (David Ramsey) tried to get him to stay by offering him a promotion at ARGUS, but Curtis turned him down and handed Helix over to his partner in crime Felicity (Emily Bett Rickards) before leaving.

Kellum, on the other hand, made the decision to leave Arrow after four seasons because he wanted to spend more time with his family in Los Angeles and is interested in pursuing other ventures in music, writing, and directing. However, both Kellum and executive producer/showrunner Beth Schwartz assure EW that this isn’t the last of Mr. Terrific.

“I love working with Echo, who is an absolute delight and joy,” Schwartz tells EW in a statement. “Echo has always brought humor and heart to Arrow. Curtis is such a fun character to write for and he’ll be greatly missed. We haven’t seen the last of Mr. Terrific.”

Below, Kellum opens up about his decision to leave, his favorite moments on the show, and what’s next for him creatively.

Entertainment Weekly: How did your exit come about? Was it your decision, the producers’, or something mutual? Echo Kellum: I had a conversation with [then-showrunner] Marc Guggenheim in season 6. It was my idea. I have kids—I have a twelve-year-old kid—and it was just starting to feel like I should be back home more. First of all, I love working on this show. I love the cast, the producers. It’s the best cast I’ve ever worked with, the best studio. They’ve taken such great care of me and made me feel like I’ve been there since season 1. So all of this has been very bittersweet because I actually feel very crestfallen, because it’s so tough to leave such an amazing show. But I think for me, it just boiled down to family, and also I just wanted to try a couple of creative ventures in my life. I’m working on music, directing, and writing now. I still love acting, but it’s something I’m not looking at as the top thing of my career anymore. I’m looking at my career in a different light. So, I approached Marc. We had a long conversation about family and fatherhood and all those things, and he totally got where I was coming from. You know, Warner Bros. and the network were so generous to be able to let me exit gracefully. What I will say, this isn’t the end of Curtis. I’ll definitely come back as much as they want me back, and visit and guest-star and whatnot. So, it’s not the end of him. I guess it’s really a family decision overall, just to be a little closer to my kids. I’ve been around my kids more during the school parts of the year the most that I have been in the last four years, even in the past month. It was definitely not an easy decision.

Both Arrow and the Arrowverse as a whole have this sort of open-door policy where actors have the flexibility to come and go as they need. Did that make it easier for you to approach Marc and Beth about this? EK: Absolutely. I’ve know things that have happened with actors in the past, so that was definitely something that made it easier to broach the conversation. I went to them just to have a conversation—not being like, “Hey, I want off!” but just to gauge where they were, how they felt about how I was feeling, and all I got was full support. They didn’t want me to leave. I’m so thankful that they wanted me to be part of the show in the first place, and they still want me to be part of it. So, it’s definitely an open-door policy for me. I’ll come back any time they need me to come back, for sure, but right now? It’s really nice to be around family more and take care of these creative ventures that I’ve been working on in LA as well.

The episode ends with Curtis deciding he can put his tech to better use in Washington after he gets his job offer. How did you feel about the way Curtis was written off? EK: I liked it because it’s still innately Curtis wanting to help other people. He’s leaving in a way where he can try to have a bigger impact in trying to help other people in the world. I really appreciate that, because I hope it leaves open the door for him to pop back in every once in a while until they get to their 300th episode. [Laughs]

What was your last day on set like? EK: It was very emotional. I definitely cried. Everyone cried. It was really difficult because they are my family and all of us have such a great rapport, on-screen and off-screen. The last day was really tough. A lot of tears, a lot of cakes. But the last day, we shot in this spooky house, so it was very interesting. I feel good about my decision overall, but I’m going to miss all of them, miss being the trenches with them every day and laughing on set and just being silly, and then also just telling this amazing story that our amazing writers are crafting. So it’s just definitely very bittersweet. I’m exited for what’s in the future, but it’s tough to leave such an amazing show.

What do you think you’ll miss about Curtis, this character you’ve been with for four years? EK: I just like his charm. He’s so silly and he brings a lot of levity to a lot of the darkness that the show can permeate. I’m gonna miss that about him—that he just has a great outlook on life, like his positivity. It doesn’t mean he hasn’t dealt with hardships and doubting himself and whatnot, but I think I can pull that from him, of just being positive and looking at the bright side of things, and trying to do the best I can for my fellow man. I’m really going to miss playing those parts.

Looking back at these past four seasons, what was your favorite moment or episode on the show? EK: One of my favorite moments was getting to put on the Terrific 2.0 costume. That was such an hugely empowering moment for me personally as an actor. It was so great. But as you say that, the moment that comes back to me again and again is in episode 2 of season 5. Me, Rick Gonzalez, and Madison McLaughlin, who played Artemis, we were all having a scene. We’re training, Oliver’s got the bell. Oliver and Felicity have a moment, and we’re just in the background just kind of chilling and improvising some banter in character. Then, Rick says, “Hey, we on a TV show.” We are all still in character. [Laughs] It was just such a perfect moment from Wild Dog. As the character, I thought he would say something like this. “Look, there’s cameras everywhere,” and we’re like, “Dude, what are you talking about?” That moment was so funny and so meta. We talk about that moment so often. We’ll be shooting a scene and I’m like, “Rick, we on a TV show, man,” and then we just start laughing and cracking up. That is really one of the moments that touches my heart. Honestly, the moment that I really think about is the first moment when I got to meet Felicity and came in that first day. I just remember how amazing it was to feel welcomed and a part of that universe from the jump. That’s a moment that really holds true to my heart. Honestly, there are a couple of episodes from this season: The episode where I got to speak French, that was so much fun. The episode where I got to flip the script on Diaz (Kirk Acevedo) was so much fun too. I really like where they were going with him. I hope there can be some type of a future for him Arrowverse. It won’t be on an episodic basis, but I’m really proud of the work I got to do with this character and thankful that they let me play with him for four years.

Have you started talking to the writers about when that potential return might happen, or is that still far off? EK: We’ve had some discussions. Nothing’s been finalized at this point, but we’ve definitely discussed that aspect and they definitely made sure and clear that they want Curtis to come back. I can’t give you any definitive episodes or storylines, but it’s definitely something I’m 100 percent open to doing, and I believe they’re open to doing it too, so it should definitely work out at some point in the future.

If things aligned where you were available and they wanted you back, would you want to be involved in next year’s big “Crisis on Infinite Earths” crossover? EK: Of course, 100 percent! That’s going to be so epic and amazing! I would love to be a part of those crossovers.

Is there anything more you can share about what you have planned post-Arrow? EK: I’m working on music right now. It’s been a labor of love. I’ve been working on an album for the past two years, but now I’m afforded the time to actually focus on it and really get into the studio and bang some stuff out. I’ve been shooting some things. I just shot a short; got some financing for it and shot that. And writing a bunch of scripts. I have a feature that we’re out trying to sell right now and a pilot we’re out trying to sell right now. Everything is very irons-in-the-fire, but I’m just very confident in my future and my work ethic. I know it’s only a matter of time before things fall down.

What can we expect from your first album? EK: I mainly do hip-hop. I love being an MC and rapping. It’s something I’ve been doing since I was in high school. My brother was a hip-hop artist, and we lost him in 2006, unfortunately, so I’m trying to make something to honor him and everything he was doing. My music has always been a passion. I’m not doing it to make a million bucks. I’m just doing it for the love because I just want to put out my own creative venture in music and still getting some of the pieces together is just exciting.

Is there anything else you wanted to add? EK: I think the only thing I want to do is just thank all the fans for giving me a shot. For all the fans that loved me and for all the fans that didn’t love me so much, thanks for watching, thanks for caring, thanks for making me feel like I was part of something special, because it is a special show. I will see you guys in the future on other projects. And excelsior!

#echo kellum #cast #s7 #interviews #news

[emerald-equ1nox]

Décalcomanie || 9

Summary: He needed a job done and the only people who could do it hated each other. Well as they say, you have to crack a few eggs to make an omelet.

Series Trigger Warnings: violence, cursing, drinking, possible smut in later chapters

With a smile, (Y/N) pulled a hoodie on and grabbed Yoongi’s keys. “I’m taking your car!” she called.

“I’m sorry what?!” Yoongi exclaimed, poking his head around the doorframe of the bathroom.

“Your car, I’m taking it. I need to go to the library.”

“Um, I don’t think so. There is no way in hell that you’re taking my baby, take the bus.” (Y/N) shook her head.

“I’m taking the car and you can’t stop me.”

“Yeah I can.”

“Have fun chasing me in a towel bitch.” (Y/N) grabbed her wallet and hurried out of the apartment. She heard Yoongi’s footsteps on the hardwood in the apartment.

“(Y/F/N)! Get back here with my keys!”

“Nope! Go take a shower, you smell!” (Y/N) hurried outside to the car, unlocking it as soon as she saw it. Once inside she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. The drive to the library was uneventful and when (Y/N) got there she locked the car and went inside. She made a beeline to one of the open computers and logged in. After that, she plugged in her usb and printed out her acting resume before printing off a copy of the sheet music for A Guy That I’d Kinda Be Into from Be More Chill. She grabbed the two things from the printer at the end of the row of computers she was sat at and then returned to the computer to sign off. Once she did that she spent some time browsing the shelves but decided against checking anything out. A tap at her shoulder as she stood looking at the small pin board on the wall caused her to jump. She spun around to come face to face with the redhead from the gang. “Oh! Um, Wonho right?”

“Call me Hoseok,” he said. “Wonho’s my nickname.”

“Well, Hoseok then, what are you doing here?” He held up a large book. It looked to be the first Game of Thrones novel.

“Returning this monster.” (Y/N) chuckled. “You?”

“Printing out my resume, I’m auditioning for a musical in about a month.”

“That’s cool.” Just then, (Y/N)’s phone began to buzz.

“Oh, that’s probably Yoongi,” she said as she pulled her phone out. “I’ve gotta go, but it was nice seeing you.”

“You too.” Hoseok looked like he wanted to say something else but simply waved as (Y/N) left.

“What’s up?” (Y/N) asked as she answered.

“You done yet?” Yoongi asked.

“I haven’t even been gone that long.”

“I know, but I miss you.” (Y/N)’s eyebrows furrow.

“Yoongi?”

“Could you swing by the store on your way home though? We need beer.”

“You just finished that six pack, you’ll be fine for a couple more days.”

“‘Scuse me,” Yoongi said quietly. The sound of hushed footsteps reached (Y/N)’s ears. “They just showed up.”

“What? Who?”

“Shownu and them. Well, not all of them but most of them. They said that Wonho would be here soon.” (Y/N) climbed into the car and sat the stack of papers in her hand on the passenger's seat.

“Yeah, I just bumped into him.”

“Seriously?”

“Mhm.”

“Damn.”

“I’ll head to the store right now. I’ll get a twelve pack and be there in a bit.”

“‘Kay. See ya.”

“See ya.” The sound of another, less quiet pair of footsteps reached (Y/N)’s ears.

“Love you baby,” Yoongi said quietly, fondness saturating his voice.

“Love you too,” (Y/N) replied in case whoever had walked over to Yoongi could hear her. She hung up and pulled out of her parking space before making her way to the convenience store down the street. She grabbed a twelve pack and a bottle of Coke and took it to the cash register. She pulled out her credit card and her ID and slid both across the counter to the cashier. After grabbing her purchases and returning her cards to her wallet, (Y/N) exited the store and went to the car. She noticed a small scrap of paper under the windshield wiper and cursed. “Please don’t be a ticket, please don’t be a ticket.” She hurried to the car and plucked the paper up. The words scrawled across the paper chilled her to the core.

The same handwriting from the bathroom mirror stared up at her. You’re not fooling anyone, the note said. “Motherfucker.” She unlocked and opened the car, placing the twelve pack in the passenger’s seat on top of her papers and placed the Coke bottle in the cup holder. She closed the door forcefully, sliding the piece of paper in her pocket and putting the key in the ignition. The drive to the apartment was filled with (Y/N)’s nervous mumbling. It seemed all too obvious that Hoseok was the one who did this, way too obvious. When she got to the apartment, Yoongi was stood outside. He pushed off of the side of the building and strode over to the car. He opened the door for (Y/N) and grabbed the twelve pack as she handed it over to him. He watched as (Y/N) grabbed her soda and papers before climbing out and shutting the door. He held his hand out to her once the car was locked and (Y/N) grabbed it. She pressed the slip of paper into his palm with a sigh. “We have a problem.”

“What?” he asked.

“You’ll see when you read the note.” Yoongi frowned slightly before pressing a kiss to her temple as they started walking down the hallway to the apartment. When they walked in, they were greeted by six smiling faces. “Okay, that’s creepy.” Yoongi chuckled.

“Look at Wonho,” he muttered. (Y/N) searched for him and when her eyes landed on his face she almost snorted. The best way to describe his expression was constipated. Yoongi sat the twelve pack on the coffee table before grabbing himself one. He pulled (Y/N) behind him to the arm chair to the right of the couch. He then sat down and pulled her down into his lap. (Y/N) sat across his lap, one arm around his neck and the other in her lap. Yoongi took her papers and sat them on the floor before opening his beer and taking a drink of it, watching as the other men all grabbed one as he did so. His arms wrapped around (Y/N)’s waist and he tapped at the can in his hand, feeling the slip of paper he held become damp. He discreetly slipped it into (Y/N)’s pocket under the guise of simply letting his hand rest on her thigh.

“So, what brings you guys here?” (Y/N) asked as she leant into Yoongi’s chest.

“Just wanted to get to know you guys better,” Hyungwon, the one that Yoongi and (Y/N) had dubbed “Shōjo man,” said simply. Yoongi hummed quietly.

“What d’you wanna know?” he rumbled.

“How’d you guys meet?” Minhyuk piped up.

“High school,” Yoongi and (Y/N) chimed.

“Junior year,” (Y/N) said with a smile.

“Best day of my life,” Yoongi said. The look in his eyes was extremely believable and even (Y/N) felt like she believed his fictional statement.

“I thought that was the day you got the car.”

“Okay, second best day of my life.” There was a collective chuckle from the men in the room.

“How long have you guys been together then?” Jooheon asked.

“Since our last year of high school,” Yoongi said, “so seven years.”

“Damn,” Shownu laughed, “where’s the ring man?” (Y/N) blushed lightly when Yoongi grabbed her hand and squeezed tightly

“Someday dude, someday.” A small chuckle left (Y/N)’s mouth.

“Yeah,” she said, “twenty years down the line when we’ve got two kids, a house, and a mortgage.” The other guys laughed as Yoongi frowned slightly.

“Rude.” (Y/N) laughed and leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips.

“You love it.”

“True.” There was a beat of silence before Kihyun piped up.

“Where are you guys from?” he asked.

“I’m from Daegu, she’s from Seoul,” Yoongi said. “I moved up here back in the summer before junior year with some friends to pursue my music career but that obviously hasn’t panned out yet.”

“Which is bull,” (Y/N) spat. “He’s hella good.”

“What do you do?” Changkyun asked, perking up.

“I rap,” Yoongi said simply.

“And?” (Y/N) egged.

“And play piano and produce my own stuff. Doesn’t really pay the bills though.”

“No, but we are lucky in that Dad was willing to help you with your music.”

“Yeah, still think he hates me though.”

“Bullshit! He loves you, he thinks of you as the son he never had.” Yoongi shook his head.

“Sure.” (Y/N) smacked his chest lightly.

“Stop doubting yourself.” She pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before leaning down to set her soda on the floor. Her head dropped into the crook of his neck and she glanced lazily at the others out of the corner of her eye. Yoongi began to rub his hand up and down her back as he conversed with the other men in the room. The conversation revolved heavily around Yoongi’s music, Changkyun being the most interested.

“Could I hear something?” Changkyun asked, giddy smile on his face. The chuckle that left Yoongi’s lips was a very real one.

“Maybe later kid,” he said simply, the soft smile on his face betraying the happiness that simple question had brought him.

“That’s a yes,” (Y/N) stage whispered as she brought her hand up to thread through the hair at the nape of Yoongi’s neck. Yoongi pinched her side slightly, soothing over it with his thumb after wards. (Y/N) stayed perched in Yoongi’s lap, watching the men across from them with lazy eyes. She would occasionally let out a small laugh or give her two sense but she found it much easier to simply observe. When their seven visitors decided to call it a night, Yoongi pushed on (Y/N)’s side lightly to get her to rise. The two saw the others to the door and waved as they left, sighing exhaustedly when the door was closed.

“I need a drink,” (Y/N) exhaled as she made her way to the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of wine and leant up against the counter, watching as Yoongi walked in holding a beer. He leant against the counter across from her, studying the way she sipped from her glass. No more than a few seconds passed before he pushed off of the counter and crossed the small distance between them.

His hand fished into her pocket and he pulled out the slip of paper. He unfolded and read it, eyebrows furrowing. “It’s gotta be Wonho, he was the only one not here when the others showed up.”

“Yeah, but that’s too obvious.”

“Well how could any of the others have done it?”

“They’ve got people under them, it’s not hard to tell one of them to tail me and put it on the windshield after they realized that I wasn’t here.”

“Yeah but how would they know what the car looked like?”

“They could’ve been following me since I left.”

“And not put it there while you were in the library? They had the most time then compared to what they had when you went into the store.” (Y/N) sighed heavily before shaking her head.

“What have we gotten ourselves into?” Yoongi frowned slightly before smoothing a hand over (Y/N)’s hair.

“A gang Sweetheart.” The soft way that Yoongi said the pet name felt like something akin to home, something (Y/N) hadn’t had in awhile. And it scared her. Yoongi wasn’t someone who was supposed to make her feel at home, he was the one person standing between her and her father’s favor and she was supposed to hate him. She did hate him. But then why did she giggle at the pet name that had lost its meaning after everyone decided to call her it more than they did her actual name? Why had she leant into the light kiss he had placed on her temple earlier as they walked into the apartment building and why had she felt a sense of loss as she left his grasp to see the others to the door? And most importantly, why was it that everything Yoongi did to make the relationship seem real actually felt real? This whole thing was supposed to be an act, just like all of the other missions like this that Yoongi had been on and all of the past musicals that (Y/N) had taken part in. So why was it starting to feel real?

#bangtan bookclub #yoongi au #mafia au #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [437]

Mid-way through dinner Ellana reaches across the table and puts her hands on his. Bull obligingly puts down his utensils and takes her hands and waits as she stares at him.

“Yes?” Bull says after about half a minute. “The food’s going to get cold, you know. I’m good with that, but you hate cold pasta.”

“It’s disgusting and the person who thought pasta salad was a good idea was depraved,” Ellana agrees. But she just holds his hands and stares at him all the while their lasagna is steadily cooling.

“Are you okay?” Bull prompts.

Ellana takes a deep breath.

“I’m moving out.”

Bull’s first instinct is to be hurt.

He’s confused. She’s not - she’s not mad at him. He knows when Ellana is mad at him. And she isn’t. They haven’t argued over anything at all in the past few weeks, the last argument he can remember moving out worthy was maybe almost a year ago and it was because he got mad at her for doing something stupid that almost got her arrested and if anyone would’ve moved out it would’ve been him.

Is - maybe it’s because they haven’t fought at all? Is she upset because they don’t disagree more? That doesn’t sound right. But somehow his brain says it’s a possibility that maybe she’s gotten bored.

But he’d have known that too.

He hasn’t noticed her being stressed or upset over anything recently, either. She’s been talking a lot on her phone with her brother, but that’s not too much of a change since they’re always messaging each other anyway. The discussions do go on for a while and can get kind of heated, though - which is unusual because Mahanon hates talking on the phone and Ellana is rarely heated. Was it about this?

“Did I hurt you?” Bull asks because he has no idea where this is coming from and it’s like she’s come at him from his bad side and he’s floundering for an idea of what the hell just happened and is currently happening. “Can I at least know what upset you?”

“No! There’s nothing - you didn’t do anything. I swear, it isn’t on you.” Ellana replies quickly. “No, babe, no - you didn’t. I’m not leaving you. I’m moving out because I inherited a house from like…my great, great, great grand something something I’m not even sure if it’s aunt or grandmother or whatever at this point. So I need to go fight for my inheritance.”

“You need to what for your what?”

“I should start from the beginning.”

“You absolutely one hundred percent should.”

“So like. You know how my family’s connected to so many people that we’ve become an elven cliche?”

“Yes.”

“And some parts of that family are obscenely rich?”

“Yes?”

“And those parts of the family usually intersect - in a Venn diagram - with the circle that would read crazy?”

“Absolutely.”

“She’s right there in that cross section of rich, eccentric, and buck wild out there,” Ellana says. “So she like. Left her house to six people and she told them to fight for it.”

“You’re going to fight for a house?”

“Listen,” Ellana squeezes his hands before letting go and walking around the table. Bull pushes his chair back to turn his body towards her and she climbs onto his lap and takes his face in her hands. “Listen. Listen. It’s a three story house with attached four car garage. Combined we don’t even have two cars but think of all the arts and crafts we could do in a four car garage. And like. There’s a drive. A full on drive to the house itself. And there’s a green house. And a basement. And the three stories? Does not include the attic. Did I mention it has a fucking ballroom?”

“Why,” Bull asks, voice slightly garbled because as she was speaking the pressure she was applying to his face was increasing with her excitement, “Do you want a house like that?”

“Because I don’t want anyone else to have it, duh,” Ellana replies. “She named me as eligible for the house because I’m the only one who signed up for and actively talked to her about her news letter.”

“Alright. So how do you win the house if it’s been willed to you?”

“She named eight people in the will as eligible to claim the house if they follow certain rules. They can’t leave the property once they step foot on it. The contest starts in one month from now so I have to have all my shit in order. All necessities will be paid for by the estate, so I can quit my job or like. Go on leave. Whatever. But I literally cannot leave the property until I’m the last one standing. It’s me versus the other seven. Aside from that? Not many other rules. One of them is only the eight of us can go in and live there, so I can’t bring you with me. But, aside from that? Like, I guess no killing is an unspoken rule but I’m creative. I can do other stuff.”

“Who else, exactly, is eligible for this house?”

“Alim, Darrian, Theron, Neria, Kallian, Lyna, Mahanon, and yours truly.”

“Neria is going to slaughter all of you as soon as you set foot on that property,” Bull says immediately. “I love you. I’m going to miss you when she kills you. There is no way for me to prevent that from happening other than going down with you and honestly? I would. But someone has to live to tell of your…story. Why are you competing against your brother?”

“Honestly? Mahanon and I don’t really care about the house so much as we think it’s going to be fun messing with the other six. Like? Theron? Cool dude. Lyna? Amazing. Kallian? Kind of like…so fucking stressed it makes everyone else stressed so that could be fun to tinker with. Darrian is such a fucking hippie that it’d be buck wild to see him in a house like that.No one has seen Alim in thirty years. That’s like. An event right there, and Neria said he’s coming so I believe her. I don’t think Alim is going to break Neria’s word like that.”

“I can’t believe Neria can make promises for other people and compel them out of fear into completing them. How did you guys make that list?”

“I was on her mailing list,” Ellana ticks off, “Mahanon helped her with chores around her house a lot when he was on this side of the country and I think he still sent her care packages when he moved? By care packages I mean interesting shit he thought was hilarious and I guess she thought so too. Uh…Theron’s the guy who sorted out all of her technology? Like. She’d call him to fix her DVR or update her passwords for her when she forgot? And Theron’s such a stupidly nice guy he’d do it for her even though there’s a literal eighteen hour time difference. Lyna’s real sweet and is also a medical professional so she was always there for whatever ailments great, great, great, great something something had. Kallian helped her sue a guy who cut down one of her trees. Darrian’s overall a really chill dude who makes people want to see him in weird situations by sheer power of his personality. I think Alim and Neria are actually directly related to her and since the house has been in their family for about seven generations she probably thought she should give them a fighting chance.”

#heartsfic #gather your party and venture forth

[ofmontys]

“ —  and if you’re just tuning in now, you’ve made it just in time for our ‘ sleep with me ’ segment. nightfall has sufficiently fueled my ego and i’m reared and ready to go, compiling a playlist curated to get one lucky, hand-picked bastard in bed with me. tonight’s submission comes from camila, age 18 2/3, from two towns over. ” rustling paper. a delighted scoff. “ tonight, as per camila’s request, i’ll be attempting to seduce vincent van gogh.  vince, this is acid ghost’s ‘ the artist’s high ’, also known as what i hope i can be for you. ”

or, alternatively :   yo yo, my dudes! the name’s linc (19/est/she&her) and you just witnessed an excerpt from bez holmes’s  radio show quite appropriately named, ‘ fuckin’ hell ! ’  that airs weekdays and sundays from 7pm to 8am! 

i am absolutely stoked out of my mind to write with all of y’all! beneath the read more you’ll find a very unapologetically messy introduction to my strange son, killian beelzebub holmes !

* TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET & CISMALE / / here we’ve got KILLIAN BEELZEBUB HOLMES , the TWENTY-ONE year old LOCAL RADIO HOST. with a reputation for being + SLY, + ANOMALOUS, - OSSIFIED, and - RECKLESS, it’s surprising we haven’t heard more about him. BEZ has been around faulk hollow for TEN YEARS, but they ain’t leaving anytime soon. you hear ME AND MICHAEL by MGMT? that means you’ll see ‘em soon. 

“road work ahead? uh, yeah, i sure hope it does!” ( alternatively: bez holmes, a roadmap. )

so bez is… kind of a nutcase. he’s just… he’s that guy in the bar who seems so desirable. voice like warmed honey, a smile that could kill – but dear lord, don’t get close to him. he’s fucked in the head. and unless you’re prepared for that, friendships/relationships with him can get... pretty darn overwhelming.

he’s a host at the local radio station, so he curates the music and talks through little segments throughout the day. well, i should say night -- because the show he’s known for occurs weekdays and sunday nights from 7pm - 8am. weird hours. weird guy. so it all clicks right into place! people tune in for the music ( a lot of indie eclectic vibes ) but also his personality. bez tends to veer off-script a lot, which both aggravates and amuses his superiors. he’s basically the only reason the tiny radio station is still alive & kickin’, so what are they gonna do to him, huh? fire him and take the whole station down with that bullshit move? not likely. so bez’ll keep doing and saying whatever the hell he wants on air, thank you very much.

can he get... a mfing... cinnamon raisin waffle???  dude’s friggin’ obsessed. don’t mess with his waffles, man. waffles don’t play.

has a knack for stumbling into stupid situations. y’know how there’s two kinds of people in this world? the kinds that act upon the universe and the kinds the universe acts upon? bez is that guy in textbook math probelms who has 42 apples for no apparent reason. he’s the dude in on top of spaghetti all covered with cheese whose poor meatball fuckin’ rolled out the door. things happen to bez holmes no matter how much he might try to convince you otherwise. his whole life is just a string of varied ( and usually nonchalant/unbothered/troublingly chill ) reactions to crazy shit.

case in point:  why did the holmes family move to faulk hollow? well. their old house had like... a freakin’ meltdown. yes, the house. it swallowed their dog. and their mom. casual... house-y things. but when people ask, bez and his father like to say they just wanted to “ see the sights ”. and apparently faulk hollow was one of those.

[ tw: death, murder mentions ]   basically, faulk hollow offered a place for them to disappear, since the disappearance of bez’s mother couldn’t exactly be explained to and/or believed by police. bez’s father is wanted for her murder. so they friggin’ skrrt skrrted out of iowa and plopped down here, under the radar. “holmes” is an adopted last name.

so bez has been here since his 11th birthday! honestly, he probably earned a reputation pretty quick for being that kid who’d, like, “hey buddy!” at all the insects on the playground.  “ do you believe in magic? ” was often his best icebreaker.

so... fun fact. he accidentally inherited his dead dentist’s vintage jukebox. yes, i know how that sounds, and it’s exactly that. but dear lord, that thing has just been infinitely fucking with him since the day it showed up on his doorstep three months ago. more about that later!

an example of a normal occurrence in bez’s life: “hey. so, uh… i know we just met, and maybe this is moving fast? but i saw this keychain in walgreens and it made me think of you. so… yeah. here. tell anyone i did anything nice for you and you’re dead to me tho.”

he seems smart. he seems so cunning, you guys. like, holy shit, he makes these deep ass statements on the air and curates music that makes people feel things. but don’t be fooled. he’ll drive wearing shades at 10pm just to look cool, all while bumping 80′s glam rock from his blue ‘67 impala. he’ll do that cliché head bop at stoplights, encourage other drivers to join in.

don’t call him killian!! killian who?? his parents gave him “beelzebub” as a middle name to be funny and fuck with his mother’s father, who was a pastor. what they didn’t bank on was four-year-old bez insisting on being called by it – you can guess how well that went over with his teachers and his peers. so to appease them, he accepted the nickname “bez” and has gone mainly by that ever since. most people probably don’t know his true first name, since he goes by “bez” on the air. but close friends and trusted individuals might occasionally call him “kill” or something to that effect.

pets are not bez’s thing. every houseplant he’s had has died. succulents wilt in his presence too, and he thinks maybe at this point, it’s a running joke among plantkind because his birth name has the worldkill in it. still, even with his track record, he has a fish named nigel. nigel dislikes affection and bez. they engage in staredowns and silent mental warfare. bez often “forgets” to feed nigel or change the water in his tank, but that fish just will not die. nigel’s probably just truckin’ on to spite him.

aggressively writes the wrong date for like… 8 months following new year’s. so he finally gets it right for the final ¼, and then the cycle begins again. additionally, cannot keep the days of the week straight. he’s started a multi-song alarm campaign in an attempt to rectify this situation. bez’ll report his findings in a week. if he remembers.

one time he got pulled over for speeding back from the radio station at 7 in the morning, and you know what he did? he freakin’ offered the cop some hard shit from his flask and some of his opened bag of funions. so the two of them got tastefully buzzed in bez’s car and talked about the kardashians for two hours. and it was through that very conversation that bez learned he’d been doing a very shit job of keeping up with them.

scared of birds. yes. those things? with the wings? terrified. how dare they occupy space above his head. how dare they swoop and swerve all around. no. his neighbor in iowa had a parakeet. maybe that bird finally went missing one day, while they were on vacation. maybe it escaped. to like, the afterlife. maybe bez helped. maybe.

he’s really bad at like … taking care of himself? funions, candy, and takeout forever.  what do you mean raisin bran crunch isn’t a wholesome, well-rounded meal? you mean you’re not supposed to pour the entire carafe of syrup on your waffles every time? someone… pls fix that.

hella prone to bullshit! like… did you know aliens are real? yeah. really. hey did you check your horoscope today? what zodiac sign are you? he’ll pretend to know what zodiac he is like: hey, uh… listen .. . if your zodiac is asparagus don’t even bother being my friend… i’m a caprisun & it’s just not gonna work out. sorry.

memorizes commercial jingles. will sing them to prove points.

“what the fuck’s a kanye” - bez holmes, 2k18

“a mug shot? i don’t even drink coffee.” ( alternatively: more pointless headcanons because apparently i think this is necessary. )

don’t be fooled by the title of this section. he drinks coffee. a lot of coffee. with a lot of sugar added to it. could probably kill a horse, tbh. he’s not sorry.

his signature half-smirk drives folks mad. he also has a collection of faithful listeners who like to call in and tell him how soothing his voice is.

lowkey writes his own music? lowkey was in a band called ashes when he was 13; it lasted about 6 seconds. lowkey has a few things recorded on his laptop? but he’ll never actually do anything with ‘em.

owns an unironic walkman! enjoys it immensely! i know!

catch him in the local 24 hour diner spending his life savings on cinnamon raisin waffles and dimes for the jukeboxes! because LMAO, he’s not using the old one at his place!!!

convinced said old, stupid, 1947 jukebox in his apartment lays host to goblins. that thing shakes and quakes at odd hours. it’ll play shitty pop music that isn’t even in the dumb catalogue. sometimes it lights up when he trips over his own feet or accidentally burns his microwave popcorn. the fuckin’ thing is possessed and it’s mocking him. so, naturally, what is there to do but appease the tiny beings inside it?? he makes biweekly sacrifices to it – mainly consisting of snack foods, candies, a casual sprinkling of his own blood. y’know. casual.

super into space? honestly would love to grab sushi with an alien sometime?

uh…  he’s convinced everyone he sleeps with kind of mysteriously dies exactly 53 hours after. maybe that was inspired by like... two isolated incidents. but you can see how this is… kind of a problem, for a guy who likes to sleep around from time to time. is he a murderer? uhm, no, not exactly – but he’s grown kind of immune to the guilt at this point. he stalks obituaries a couple days after his one-night-stands, just to check. so far, it hasn’t been a 100% consistent thing, but... he’s worried. he’ll still leave the bar with you tho. ;)

he’s trying out this whole new thing of like… not going all the way? trying to save lives? but it’s really difficult and he’s losing resolve. he also can’t exactly tell his buddies, “ stop introducing me to your hot friends; if i fuck them, they’re dead. ” that probably wouldn’t go over well. he’s got enough crazy on his plate trying to appease the damn goblins.

consistently blindsided by genuinely liking other people? so if he’s into you... he’s gonna look awestruck and baffled like 99% of the time your face is within a 1-mile radius.

he’s always running his hands through his hair, which just adds to his #indiegrungeaesthetic, if i’m honest.

“girl, you’re thicker than a bowl of oatmeal!” (alternatively: wanted plots.)

childhood neighbor / best friend.   i would love to have a person ( or several )  who knew him growing up (from age 11 on), and kind of got to bear witness to how strange he’s become? maybe even be weirdos together? i dunno, let’s talk. we

past relationships.   i imagine he’s had his fair share of flings in the past. he’s made many mistakes for sure. let’s uncover them.

close friends.   #squadgoals. but really, though. i’d love for bez to have a tightknit group of 3-4 people who he just clicks with. they wreak havoc, but it’s all in good fun.

enemies.    i would love to have an enemies plot that’s actually hilarious? like one tiny thing catapulted these two into a mutual, deep, to-the-bones kind of hatred. it’s irrational, but they’re so infuriated by one another’s presence that all they can do is think of stupid quips and glare from afar. i imagine their public interactions bring onlookers a lot of poorly stifled laughs, because it’s just like… they’re so obviously trying so hard to hate one another with absolutely zero grounds.

miscellaneous.  maybe they got his mail and returned it to his door, and it sparked the beginning of a beautiful friendship. maybe they met in the park when this person’s dog peed on bez’s shoe. maybe they’re a frequent listener to bez’s show and they bonded over that? or perhaps they both enjoy engaging in semi-friendly grocery store competitions to see who can get to the ripest apples the quickest? anything’s possible!

chris! is that a weed?!  smoke with him, my dudes!! or like, anything? my guy’s not shy about investing in “life enhancements”.

but yes come message me on here for plots or hmu for my discord! so hype!

#faulk:intro

[actual-oracle]

OKAY SO HERE WE GO, buckle up this is a long story. It was Halloween night and me, my friend, and her brother were chilling after getting a bunch of candy.

We had talked about possibly drinking, but nothing was concrete. We get back to her house and a few hours later after her brother leaves I have one beer. At this point in time I did not know she had an alcohol problem, and she didn't even drink while I was there. I have one beer and get very tipsy, we go to sleep, I leave. Nobody ever knows, right? Wrong.

Turns out, my friend develops a drinking problems and one fateful night a month later drinks all of her mother's Rosé. Her mom finds out and texts my friend asking if she took it and if we had a "party" over the weekend (we didn't actually, three of us hung out but none of us had drunk any alcohol). Her mother tells my friend she's locking up the liquor cabinet and telling my friends therapist, pretty standard stuff right.

WELL THEN her rat of a brother tell their mom that I had a beer (not sure about what he told her specifically), and in all my wisdom my first thought was "I have to tell my mom before they can." So basically I texted my mom telling her I had one beer on Halloween, that it was completely my choice and my friend was really nervous about pressuring me, that I haven't had another one since, and that it tasted gross and I wouldn't recommend it. All of these statements are true.

What I expected was for her to yell at me and ground me for a few weeks. I kind of got that, she just asked if I told my dad and that we would talk about it tomorrow. What I was not expecting was for her to ask if said friend could spend the night, if she wasn't grounded. What. The. Fuck.

I can't tell if this is like- a weird twisted trap or something. I am so confused, my anxiety was so bad I was vibrating and then I just... got that??? I'm going to go to bed now, I'm absolutely exhausted.

My new favorite friend is K because he is so unproblematic and nice, plus he doesn't tell people to kill themselves! I thought our Discord server would be nice but people keep getting Into shit with each other. My alcoholic friend is fixating on this dude right now and he's an absolute ass but I love her so I've tried not to be too mean. I know he's bisexual and it's kind of my fault because I was spamming him with 🥵 but he called me a faggot (I mean I am one) and it made me kind of uncomfortable at first until I realized what a fucking ass hole he is then I laughed. The only reason I tolerate him is because she told me he's the only one who hasn't tried to take advantage of her hyperfixating on him so....

For as much as I hate the asshole I love his best friend 100x. He's my catboy and emotional support himbo, plus his mom has the cutest accent ever. His mom is so nice she told us about how back in the 90s kids at her school would make xs with pins/paint to show they were against drugs 😭😭 I love her.

Back to the asshole, he kept spamming faggot in chat and making sexual jokes which made me very uncomfortable and I had to go play IDV. Buckle up for another long-ish story but basically my alcoholic friend was drunk and was trying to ask me where the bathroom was (I wasn't there, and it's the only time I haven't been, I've taken to staying up late until she falls alseep) and another one of our "friend" Told her it was on the roof. AF (alcoholic friend) has a window in her bedroom that leads to the roof, which is at a very steep angle that you could easily fall from. AF took this seriously and said she was going to climb out the window and kill herself. Asshole thought that the "friend" Was telling AF to kill herself, so he told "friend" To kill themselves. This resulted in a huge fight that I ended up having to deal with in the morning. AF was very stressed and BF + "friend" (British friend) kept yelling/cussing at them. AF got very stressed and I got very concerned so I stepped in and said I would be taking AF's place for this discussion. BF made a comment about AF turning tail and hiding, and that we're all stressed so it doesn't mean you can't handle this. This made me very pissed because they have no fucking clue what AF is going through, and have no right to say what she can't and can't handle. Anyways everyone ended up ignoring me like usual and the issue was kind of resolved.

The only reason I wasn't crying and screaming was because my dad was right next to me, but I was shaking a lot and I felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest. Anyways "friend" Left, asshole got some warnings and a slap on the wrist (I personally would have banned him but I'm not the owner, and the owner gets panic attacks when he's angry at them), and I cried.

Not to like- over share (as if I haven't done that already lol) but now that I think of it I've been fixated on AF for over 7 years- they're the only person I've ever immediately clicked with and they're the only person I ever feel fully my self with. We were seperate for three of those years and those were spent reminiscing on the time spent with AF. Fuck I even have a crush on her, which can never come to fruition. We wouldn't work well together at all, not until we've each dealt with our own issues. Even then I think they'll only ever see me as a friend. Most nights I spend with her on a car while drunk she's always crying about asshole and telling me to get him and that she wants him and... It hurts, like- a lot. I would say it's just my jealousy issues that make me not like asshole but nobody else likes him so it's not just me.

If I'm completely honest I don't trust him at all. He told her that he's in love with her, but she's a lesbian so he doesn't know how to feel. He saw her nudes (on accident) and her cuts. I just- I hate him so fucking much. I don't trust him one bit. Luckily I know an approximation of where he lives because I have his bestfriends address (the one I like, it's really creepy but I saw his address once and had it memorized. I still get the numbers for mine mixed up lol) and I know they live near each other. If he ever tries anything I'm going down there and ripping him a new asshole <3

Speaking of catboy (best friend I like) him and asshole might be flying down to visit in December! I'm honestly super excited to see catboy because he's going to let us do his makeup!!! Plus we'll have matching cat ears!!! Also I know that both of them are real people lol, I've met catboys mom and I've talked with him on facecall so many times. But anyways I was thinking we could maybe walk around our city and hang out :)

Anyways this was super long so sorry about that lol, I'm glad to end on a positive note!