#literal paint ball. no gun just balls of paint they throw

[kitawolf12]

I don't know if people consider 10 Things I Hate About You to be like problematic or bad but I just finished it and you know what? If my partner bought me a guitar anytime they screwed up I would absolutely stick around. Do you know how many guitars that could get me? So many. I could have enough guitars for all the picks I have. That's the dream, baby.

[autumnaaltonen]

RE ALUCARD REQUESTS okay okay hear me out: Alucard escorting a human Reader to a spooky fancy vampire ball or some shit and the fact that they'll be the only human there is freaking them out bc hi hello they don't want to get eaten or worse and Alucard responds by getting POSSESSIVE.....

We 'bout to get GLITZY up in here. Making Reader androgynous here, but there isn't too much to hint either way. Enjoy!

Rating: M

Warnings: General Alucard-esc violence.

When Alucard first asked to bring you on one of his annual visits to what can only be described as Vampiric NATO, you were extremely hesitant.

He assures you that Integra has attended with him many times over the years before meeting you, and that she was able to handle herself just fine. But you reason, "THAT'S INTEGRA."

The powerful she/they were the living authority on whether every vamp in that vicinity would continue their unlife or be blown to smithereens by her loyal servant.

You were human too, but Alucard was not your weapon, he was your lover.

Alucard reasons that this very fact makes you even more of a threat to his fellow freaks, as his having not courted a human for centuries made you a very rare and invaluable asset. He assures you that he will keep you safe, and who could say no to that handsome face? So you cave.

When you reach the castle of unknown European territory, Alucard morphs partially into his Vladcard form, wearing his ornate armour, cape, and fantastic sword, but keeping his modern facial features and hair.

In order to match, he dresses you in the finest garments of his mortal Romanian era, adorning you with jewels and holy relics from the Hellsing archives that only the most elite Vatican members could ever hope of even viewing.

It doesn't make you as intimidating as Integra, but it definitely sends a clear message that you were OFF LIMITS to any unholy creature unable to withstand the very essence of God that grazed your skin in the form of blessed silver and religious symbolage.

In Alucard's eyes, you were already royalty, worthy to stand by the side of the No-Life King and former Voivode of Romania, but your current visage only cemented that fact.

When he finally sees you after you return from your dressing room, the man literally fans to one knee, taking your ringed fingers in his own, kissing your knuckles lightly.

"Your Majesty," he smiles. You laugh at his theatrics, before realizing he was entirely serious. That fact makes your very knees tremble in affection, before you throw your arms around his neck and pepper his pale face with kisses, which he happily returns.

When Vlad Alucard leads you into the ballroom, he loops his arm around your lower waist, keeping you pressed close to his side.

Obviously night out, the ballroom was lit with candles and moonlight, the stars twinkling brightly outside tall floor to ceiling windows. The floor was a pearl marble, walls decked out in golden wallpaper and detailed paintings of a bygone era. An orchestra of familiars plays exquisite classical music, perfect for dancing.

There must have been at least 200 people—no, vampires. All of them dressed to the nines in a variety of fashions, jewellery and weaponry.

The shine of swords, daggers and even guns adorning hips makes you stiffen, to which Alucard gently strokes your back in reassurance.

He leads you along as he greets and socializes with his kin. You notice that every time you approach a new group, they deeply bow towards Alucard, a gesture he does not return. Rather, giving a small nod in acknowledgement

Of course, he was the big dog. Why were you even surprised?

He introduces you by name, before adding the title of his "most treasured jewel and precious love." It makes you flush like crazy, not only from the love that fills your chest, but the surprised stares you earn from the immortal guests.

You were human, but you were far from stupid. You saw the blood thirst in their eyes, hidden behind polite smiles and welcomes.

Alucard was no fool either, taking the time to stroke your hair, caress your neck, and kiss your lips between every moment in-between pleasantries. He made you feel appreciated, but you also felt the stares burning into the back of your head.

Two vampires in particular had caught your attention, who you have been informed as a former Duke of France, and a German Knight of the Protestant Reformation.

The Duke and Knight spy on you and your lover for then entire night, exchanging whispered words and occasional glances that meet your mortal eyes, which they return with a smirk and a lick of their fangs. You attempt to keep your gaze on your King, but the burn of their ruby eyes never leave you.

Alucard eventually notices your anxiety, of which you've tried to hide as best you can, so he may enjoy himself, but he knows you inside and out, and pulls you to the side of the ballroom to inquire of your sudden change in mood.

When you finally admit to him of the Duke and Knight's thirsty stares on your visage, his caring eyes instantly turn furious and rageful.

You quickly take his face into your hands, reassuring Alucard that you know you are safe by his side, but he's having none of it.

Someone dares to look upon his love without his permission? To make them fearful with lustful gazes and belittle their status as his partner?

Oh hell no.

Alucard removes your hands from his face, kissing both of your palms with delicacy light as a feather, before leading you to a Princess he introduced to you earlier, a beautiful vampiress, and one of the few in the castle who offered you a genuine welcome. He leaves you by her side, requesting her watch of you (of which she obviously obeys) before he storms across the ballroom and towards the twinned source of unease.

She whispers in your ear, asking what has stirred the King so? You admit that he's about to cause a ruckus, which she smiles at fervently.

You hear the distinctive 'shink' of a sword being unsheathed, Alucard wielding his weapon casually in one hand as he stands in the center of the dance floor. The music stops, and everyone becomes silent.

Alucard's voice booms across the room, echoing off of the walls, he calls upon the Duke and Knight by name, daring them to approach.

They do so, bowing before Alucard with wide eyes, fully aware of the mistake they have made. As they rise, the Knight dares another tested look in your direction, to which you turn your head into the shoulder of the Princess.

The sound of flesh being separated and torn ripples in the air, Alucard grabbing the Knight by the throat and digging the tip of his blade into both of the vampire's eyes. He screams in pain, writhing in Alucard's grasp. The Duke takes a step back in fear, before Alucard raises his long sword towards the coward's throat.

"Let this be a lesson for all those foolish enough to gaze at my jewel with thirsty eyes. Any who dare challenge their authority here will answer to the steel of my blade, or the silver of my gun."

You realize he means this quite literally, as he forces the two vampires to choose their fate: either a beheading by sword, or a blessed bullet between the eyes.

Quite the party indeed, especially when Alucard ravages you the following morning for all in the castle to hear.

[thegroupofalltime]

Hello and welcome to our blog! This blog is run by five people :]

Here we will answer questions about our phighting ocs and chat as well (this is not in any way canon to the phighting universe and is purely for fun!!)

people running the blog:

truth (@truthdawn) (they/them)

v (@sinnerclair) (they/them)

mtd (@metdrantom) (any/he/him)

catt (@cattsarts) (he/him)

alt (@simpwhoneedsalotoftherapy) (any)

TAGS: p! oc art, ask, oc asks, murderers, phighting oc, important

LIST OF OCS YOU CAN ASK BELOW!! :D (warning: kind of long)

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

Truth's ocs

Crowbar (He / Him) tag

Bloxy Cola / BC (He / Him) tag

Witches Brew / WB (She / Her) tag

Tazer Gun (She / Her) tag

Oni (She / Her) tag

Frill (They / Them)

X (He / Him or They / Them)

KK (He / Him) tag

Pistol ( He / Him)

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

v's ocs

Dagger (she/her) tag

Interplanetary Light Sword (he/him) tag

Caution (he/him)

Heartbreaker (he/him)

Dorri Wittz {Ivory Periastron} (she/her)

Ghostfire (they/them)

Valentine's Throwing Stars (she/her)

Airstrike (he/him)

EMP Shockmine (He/Him)

Atmoshocker (he/him) tag

The Blade of Federation (he/him)

Quarterstaff (she/her)

Kerambit (he/him)

Trident (she/her)

Yamatorige (they/them)

Nagamaki (she/her)

Mythic Sword of the Tides (she/her)

Chui (she/her)

Redcliff Wings (she/her)

Redcliff Battleaxe (she/her)

Winter's Greatsword (she/her)

Paint Bucket (he/him)

Super Slash Cat Claws (she/her)

Record Player (he/him)

Gear Supressor 777 (he/him)

The Patient (she/her)

Poisonous Butterfly (she/her)

Throwing Knife Pen (they/them)

Goose (literally just a goose.)

Caltrops (he/him)

Noxious Chocolate (he/him)

Bladed Tutu (any)

Poison Emperor Blade (he/him)

8-Ball (she/her)

Sauer (she/her)

April Showers "The Contractor" (she/her)

Split (any)

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

Mtd's ocs

Broad (he/him) tag

Sled (he/him) tag

Volcanograft (they/she)

Falchion (he/him) tag

Boar Lantern (he/they) tag

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

Catt's ocs

Sniper Rifle (He/him) tag

Sickle (He/she) tag

Sai (She/her)

Scythe Of Singularity (He/him) tag

Naginata (She/her)

Lantern (Any)

Paintball Gun (He/him)

Arctic Fox Tail (She/her)

Battle Ax (He/him)

Artemis Bow And Arrow (He/they) tag

Kris (He/him)

Stravant's Lightning (He/him) tag

Grapple Hook (He/They)

Tranquilizer (He/him) tag

Gravitational Radiation Hammer (He/him)

Tessen (He/they)

Spear (She/he)

Tiger (He/him)

Luger (He/him)

Stormseye (They/them)

Sentry (He/him)

Flintlock (They/he)

Gravy (She/her)

Khopesh (He/him)

Blunderbuss (He/him)

Bo staff (They/them)

Moneybags (He/him) tag

Speed coil (She/her)

Gravity Coil (Any)

The Doctor (He/him)

Spellbook (She/her)

Cowbell (She/her)

Wrench (He/they)

Abyss (She/her)

Shotgun (He/him)

The General (He/him)

"Sol" (Any)

Hyperbike (He/they/she)

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

alt's ocs

FryingPan (they/them)

Pot (he/him)

Guitar (he/him)

Anchor (he/him

SoccerBall (he/him)

SledgeHammer (she/her)

SpikeBall (he/him)

BasketBall (he/him)

SnowBall (she/her)

Chain (she/her)

Cards (he/him)

PokerChip (she/her)

Arts Darkest Sword (he/him)

Spatula (she/her)

Big spoon (he/him)

Bucket (she/him)

Kusarigama (she/her)

Holy sword (she/her)

Party popper (he/him)

Hellfire shadowslicer (he/him)

Steampunk (he/they)

Dreadbone axe (he/him)

Sword of darkness (he/him)

Surfboard (She/her)

Water blades (he/him)

Holy Axe (he/it/they)

Dune cleaver (He/him)

Thunderous hammer (he/him)

Demon blade (He/she)

Glowy bone (They/him)

Prince blade (He/Him)

Love blade (She/her)

Nebula claws (She/her)

Yin-Yang scythe (He/him)

[dinitride-art]

Lighting and Stranger Things Season Four - Full Analysis (Pt.38)

Nancy’s got a gun. Let’s talk about that. Also more fire. And windows. And, actually, there’s a lot of things going on here. 

S4:E9 - FIRE!!!! (#2)

Vecna bursts into flames after Robin throws the second molotov cocktail at him. And Nancy’s heading in. Now we’re moving into some blue and yellow lighting, as opposed to the red and blue lighting. 

With the fire, more yellow is introduced and overpowers the red a bit. The blue doesn’t change all too much.

Then Nancy moves foreword with her gun, and she’s positioned so we see her red vest- or at least it looks red. Either way it looks like Will in season one. The gun, the vest, and the red are all Will.

As Nancy moves forward, we get some cool lighting. Red and blue and red and green. This reminds me of how Will’s been lit in season four. Soft and overwhelming. 

When Nancy shoots, it’s just more fire. This is Will the Wise’s whole thing- fireball. And that’s what everyone is doing. Except Will.

The light streaming in from the holes in the roof is blue. And now Nancy is red. When Robin threw fire at Vecna, we moved away from red for a bit- but now we’re right back where we started. Red and Blue. The Snow Ball. Mike’s shirt pocket pointing to ice instead of Will. Will needs to be the one casting the spell, but Mike and Will can’t get it together (they’re also not anywhere near Hawkins so. They’ve got an excuse but. If they were in Hawkins things would have been different.)

Hopper cuts of the head of the demogrogon with the sword. Like when Hopper cut off it’s arm, it’s shot in a way that emphasizes which specific part he attacks. His right arm wasn’t the right move, so his head probably isn’t the right one either. 

Maybe he should’ve stabbed it in the heart. Maybe they shouldn’t have confronted Vecna head on. Maybe they should’ve gone for his heart.

Because he seems to be doing alright. He’s not dead. Or like. Keeled over onto the floor and screaming because he’s on fire. So what they’re doing isn’t working and doesn’t seem to be having very much of an effect on him. They’re hurting him- but he’s still very much alive.

A close up of Nancy’s gun and her pink nail polish. Again, more Will.

And we’ve got more yellow and blue. But the red is a bit more prominent this time around.

They send him flying through the boarded up window behind him. Windows have been a thing this season. The windows in the van scene, the windows wuth the light behind Will at Suzie’s house, the window behind El with the yellow curtains when Mike and El were fighting, the windows earlier in the scene behind Max and El- there’s a lot of windows that hold meaning. And Vecna breaking through a boarded up window? Seems along the same lines as, “your dominos are gonna fall.” 

Hopper and Joyce are under a bluish green light. And are in blue and red. And are surrounded by bodies on fire as the snow falls. Snow and ice and water, all come up this season. Mike and the ice box at the gas station, Mike and Will being the ones to fill the pizza dough freezer with water, the bath literally being a pizza dough freezer. They’re putting out the fire, even though that’s what everyone is using to fight Vecna. Will being out of Hawkins during all of this seems to be a very big part of the reason they lost.

Red and green lights on the helicoper. Green as connected to Mike and Willl, adn red connected to red vs. green/covering up romantic feelings with green. 

Four points of fire. One dark spot in the middle. Four gates, but somethings still missing.

The blue Creel house. The vests. The door behind them. 

Vecna broke through the boarded up window. The door is open. They have the appearances and actions of Will. 

Hopper went for the head instead of the heart. Mike’s monologue being logical, but not from the heart. Will telling Mike he’s the heart. (this ones a little bit of a reach. Maybe. But it intrigues me)

The red and blue. The Snow Ball. Forced conformity. The monologue. The painting. 

The heart vs. what you’re supposed to think. 

Fire vs. ice.

Light vs. shadow.

Will vs. El.

There’s a lot of contrast this season, huh?

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 25.1 25.2 25.3 26 27 28 29 29.1 30 30.1 31 31.1 32 32.1 33 34 35 36 37 38 (to be edited)

[pbandjesse]

I wish today was better. It wasn't bad completely. But it wasn't as good as I had hoped.

It started with being exhausted. So exhausted I felt like I was disassociating. Like I was in the bathroom and I thought I was somewhere else and would just stop and stare at fixed points because I was so stupid tired.

James made me a very good quesadilla again. And I had no sour cream disasters. And the drive to work was fine but I was so tired I wanted to cry.

I got to camp and decided to set up my hammock. I spent a few minutes laying in that and it was nice to just be weightless.

I would eventually head to the office. Ran into another Towson student who was very nice but I wouldn't really interact with them again today. I was just to busy.

Because we had reset the boxes last night, after we went with Elizabeth to the Eyre I was able to just go to art and lay in my hammock and read my book for a half hour.

And that helped me feel a lot better. So once we had to go down to the field I didn't feel so bad. Still tired but at least functional.

And they were a pretty chill group. But it turned out that the were more. Underhanded? It would be kind of an upsetting day.

And it sucks because overall I had fun! But man was I disappointed in some of them.

I did a little better with time management. And I did have some good conversations and moments. Some of them were super sweet. The morning went well. We went to homestead and peeps mill and the gun range. It was a nice walk around. I had fun.

Lunch was nice not was getting warmer out. I enjoyed my lunch. I hung out with myself up in my hammock and read my book and I was feeling better.

Then the afternoon happened. A child was in my building (ostensibly to get the powdered clay I had measured out) and had made her seed bombs but they were sitting on the table so I asked her to go get a plate which she did. But when I came back through the building to get more water I found that her bombs were coated in silver glitter. And I was pissed. I went outside where she was and I was like. Why did you do that?? Why did you take my stuff?? And she tried to say that the glitter was already on the table. And I'm like no. I never use glitter, you are lying. But she kept saying no. I was disgusted by the behavior and just told her to throw them away because we can't throw plastic into the woods.

And then I come back in to tidy up and calm down because I was upset and saw she had poured glitter in my bowls of clay and she's like. Oh it was like that but her balls are the only ones with glitter and I never use glitter so her claims of it just already being like that doesn't make sense. And now half of the cups I had for the next three programs were ruined. I texted Elizabeth and I let her know how upset I was. And she came and helped me clean up. And I would later take it upon myself to tell their lead teacher because their chaperone was literally just reading a book and was not helping at all. So I was upset.

I had to take the 15 window between the next program to calm down because I was so upset. And I swept the art building and was able to get it together.

But during my next program Dachelle came with her group to get water and someone stole the stencil paints I just got and opened all the packages and not only got it all over themselves (and later the musuem bathroom) but also left the trash outside my building and took the actual container of stencil paint and it's just gone.

And it just. Sucks. Like why you got to steal from me? I am the first to say yes, to find a way to make it work, but tonight take something and disrespect my space. It hurt my feelings a lot.

So the last program felt kind of bad. But at least those kids were nice. And then it was time for dinner so I took them down there and things would be fine.

I helped hand out ziti. And we had lots of laughs in the kitchen. And it helped me feel a lot better to just bitch and moan but still love the job. Felt good.

And once the kids were gone we got to work cleaning and resetting. We had a good system going. With someone spraying, someone wiping, and someone putting those chairs and tables away once they were clean. It took a while but we did good.

I chatted with Joe for a few minutes. And then Elizabeth said we could take all the leftover food so I got a huge container for ziti and salad. Amazing. Lunch tomorrow.

And then she told me I could go and finish cleaning the art building. I said goodbye to everyone and headed up there.

I was to tired to do everything I wanted. But I got it tidy at least. And hung in my hammock for a few minutes. And as it became 7, it was time to go home.

The drive home wasn't bad. But the sun was in my eyes. I was very very happy to get home.

James was finished their podcast so we have just been sitting together and talking all night. Sweetp has been very lovey. I took a bath. Sweetp hung out in the bathroom with me and we swatted at each other in the candle light.

And now I am moisturized and in my jammies and ready to sleep.

I don't have to do anything tomorrow. Thank christ. So I hope to sleep a little later but get up and just enjoy my day. Alone and quiet.

Sleep well everyone. Be safe and take care of yourself. I hope you chose to be kind to the people around you.

[ringmyheart]

Could you do a lookism gun x reader where he’s sweet to them kinda like Mira and Zack 🥺

“You really don’t have to do that…” 

The way your voice wavered betrayed your discomfited, guilt-ridden heart. You weren’t normally sheepish. Despite your weak-mannered protest, he continued to tie and knot the laces of your shoe below you. A low hum reverberated in his throat, and there was a gap in the conversation before he finished tying the laces into a bow, straightening his back but not necessarily standing yet. 

“It’s fine. If I didn’t notice, you might’ve tripped.” The corners of his lips didn’t lift or falter, yet his countenance was still sunny and bright. Internally, you swooned, your mouth falling into an uncertain line. It’s not that you didn’t like him, no. You just felt unnecessarily rueful for being the receiver of his kindness. It’s not that tying someone’s shoes was such a grandiose act, but when done by him, it was like a leap upwards from his usual nature. 

With him not having that many acquaintances or friends outside of work, you were somewhat his exposure to everything else, including anything non-business related. It felt odd for you to be this connection to the world outside of his, because you felt ill-suited for the job. 

It felt like you were anchoring him down, and that his likeliness was only infatuation formed from you making yourself unattainable. You wondered if that was the case, and if you ever reciprocated the action in full, if he’d end up leaving… 

The only way you could receive an answer was through actual application of this wonder in real life. Maybe, some distance would actually do the two of you good… 

He stood to full height by the time you’d finished the thought process of your internal plan, and stood idly, as if awaiting your instruction. You were always deciding what you two would do, or where you’d go, and you felt even more like an anchor; a deep, heavy one, weighing him done. 

With a nervous glance around the park, you gulped. “Uhm…” fiddling with your fingers, you mustered it out. “I think we should have some space in between us for a while…” 

Your gaze was downcast, and with the silence engulfing the both of you, you wondered what he was emoting. Anger? Frustration? Wonder? Sadness? 

“Space?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Space, like space? Or space, like distance?” 

“What’s the difference?” 

“Space is when we don’t really see each other. If you ask for space, I’d take it you want to cut contact and refrain from seeing each other for a while. Distance is when I simply distance myself from you.”

The words he’d used had a hard time processing, and you chose the option with the plainer explanation. “O-oh, Uh, distance, then.” 

He gazed upwards in thought, with a ‘hm’, before looking at you quizzically, like you were asking for some alien request. “...Why?” 

“I just - I need some distance to breathe for a while...” That was a lie. You saw him nod as it registered in his head. 

“Okay.” 

“I’m so- oh, okay?” Your visage snapped up to him in awe. That wasn’t the reaction you’d anticipated. 

He nodded, grabbing your fingers with his and lifting them up and down with his. “Okay. I’ll give you some distance. That’s no problem.” His tone was chivalrous, but his face was still idle. 

“Yeah, uhm-“ you weren’t sure where you were going to go with that sentence, which is why you were glad he’d began to walk away before he’d heard you utter it out. While he walked, his retreating form wasn’t slumped over, and there were no hints to him being upset over this. 

“...” Well, looked like the date was over now. It rubbed you the wrong way somewhat when he didn’t express any sorrow, or even annoyance, to the two of you separating. You guessed it was for the better.

You lifted your foot to turn heel and begin to leave, when you saw Gun suddenly stop and turn to face you from a distance. Lips parting curiously, you waited for him to maybe shout something, or maybe send you one last glare or smile before walking away, but… no. He just stood there. You two engaged in eye contact from meters away, him indifferent, you bewildered. 

With a twinkle, he winked and sent you a thumbs up, conveying nonchalance and a prideful, elated look at the same time. 

It dawned on you. ‘By space he thinks I mean literal distance! Like, a few feet away distance!’ Your arms flailed around you in confusion. ‘What? Why would I even request that?!’ 

Meanwhile, across the park, Gun stared at you. He had a hard time catching on to why you needed distance, but if you needed some air - and him being so near you was disrupting that, he has no objections. Plus, he was glad this was what you’d wanted; if it was space, he didn’t know what he would’ve done. 

Your arms dropped to your sides in fists, and you wondered what to do. Should you just continue the hang out…? You wondered how he’d misinterpreted it considering he was usually scarily able to catch on to everything. ‘Crap, I shouldn’t have used the word in between! This is my fault!’ 

At one point, he’d waved across to you from afar, but you were too engrossed in your thoughts to catch on. He sulked. 

You were going to go and clear this up, when you felt a hand on your shoulder from behind you, and turned to face three strangers - all dudes, one scrawny, the other two burly.

“Hey,” the middle one said, nodding over in the direction of Gun. “Is that guy your boyfriend?” They inspected him from over here. 

You felt a wave of heat rush to your face. Your hands came up to cup your cheeks, flustered. “Oh, no… it’s not like that!” You exclaimed. 

The three seemed to nod amongst themselves, and you realized why they were probably here. 

‘Oh, do they want to be friends with him-?!’ You beamed. ‘This is great! I was just thinking about how he’d probably like more friends outside of work!’ 

You grinned mischievously, happily ready to introduce them. ‘Cant let them know he’s kind of scary, I was off out by that when I first met him… I’ll make him seem super sweet!’ You glanced over at Gun over your shoulder with a glitter in your eyes. ‘I won’t ruin this for you!’ 

“Well then, is he your friend?” 

You nodded vigorously. “Yep! Friend! He’s a great friend. If anyone else happened to want to be friends with him, they’d be in for a great time!” You said, conspicuous. 

The three guys seemed pleased by your answers so far, and you felt like you were rocking it. “Hmm,” a sudden dark air surrounded you and the three guys, and finally a crooked smile curved his lips. “And this friend of yours - you guys close?”

“Hm, I’d say so.” This time, they didn’t seem too happy at your answer. You found it odd how the three men kept glancing from you to your pocket, avoiding remaining eye contact for prolonged periods of time and seemingly more invested in your pocket than you… but you brushed it off. 

“Does this guy brawl? Does he have a good fighting ability?” 

‘Don’t scare them off, (y/n)! If they know he fights, they might run away! Tell them he isn’t, and throw in a lie in there that paints him in a good light! Maybe say he has a book collection? That kind of stuff doesn’t make anyone seem off putting.’

Your fists came to your chest as you excitedly ranted about him in a positive light, the three guys waiting on the balls of their feet for your answer. His eyes briefly darted to your pocket again, and you asked yourself why - it was just your wallet in there. 

“No, he doesn’t have a good fighting capability at all! In fact, he’s really bad at it! He’d never get into a fight! But he does have-“ 

Rob. They were going to rob you. Why you finally realized it mid-sentence was beyond you, but the entire conversation recited itself in your head as well as their weird mannerisms, and you realized you were about to get mugged. 

You leaned down and tried to emit an aura as threatening as you possibly could, changing the course of your sentence suddenly. “-skills. A very particular set of skills. Skills that make him a-“ 

“Hahaha! So you figured it out, huh? Don’t think we’re so easily fooled, you already answered us!” The ringleader of the group, you assumed, chuckled, the pick in his mouth sticking up. “Too late to change your answer now. Doesn’t matter how much that guy likes you,” he pressed his hand against your shoulder and pushed you back, “there’s not a thing he can do now. Cough it up.” He made a come hither motion with his hand, meaning your wallet, and you pointed over your shoulder to Gun as a last resort. 

“You don’t wanna mess with that guy.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, I’m serious - he kills people.” 

You whipped your head over your shoulder, turning to Gun with eyes screaming for help. He must’ve seen this all go down, right?! And he knew what the gait of someone looking to mug you was like, right?!

‘Cmon, show them the expression of someone ruthless, Gun!’ 

You waved at him, expression full of panic and terror. When his expression became dark thanks to the natural resting bitch face he had, and he waved back, surely they’d see it was true. Right? 

Meanwhile, across the park, Gun saw you pause your chatting with the three faceless people around you (albeit he was only fixated on you), just to wave at him. He raised his arm, and with an expression which screamed he was content and happy, he waved back. Earlier when he’d done it, you hadn’t reciprocated, so this made him giddy. He wondered what you were talking about... didn’t you need distance? 

And you watched, horrified, when the curve of his lips titled skyward slightly. 

‘He smiles?! Now he smiles?! If only I hadn’t asked for distance, this would’ve be happening…!’  A dark shadow swept across your expression. You were screwed. 

You cupped your mouth with your hands. “Gun! Heeeeellppp!”

Gun merely blinked. 

It seemed the distance you created between the two of you was far too great, for he couldn’t hear you. The robber behind you curled his fingers over your shoulder blade darkly, with a low chortle. 

You began to wonder if you could make it if you bolted to him, but didn’t think you had the speed in you. 

Eyes closed in a deep brooding, you weighed your options. You could break into a sprint, but if you didn’t make it in time you didn’t wanna take the chance. Even if you weren’t badly injured - being tackled mid-run because you were too slow... that’d just be way too embarrassing. 

Well, if you started running, surely he’d see and come help you out, right?

But was he fast enough? 

Your thoughts were interfered with a swift kick to your ankle, not enough to knock you over, but it certainly snapped your eyes back to the trio towering over you. 

“Well? You gonna give or what?”

“We aren’t gonna wait all day.” 

“Cmon, just give us your wallet and we can go! Hurry!” The last of the three seemed hasty, like he was wary for police officers or bystanders. 

You wished you’d had more time to think, but the pressure put on you felt dire. Like you had to come to a conclusion fast... 

Acting out on impulse, your hands defensively went to your pocket and clutched your wallet through the fabric. You narrowed your gaze. “No!” 

‘He gave my like half that money! Like hell I’m giving it.’ 

The one in the middle chortled dryly, and nodded his head. “Alright, alright - what’s your name, kiddo?” 

“Why?”

“Just spit it out, yeesh.” He scratched the back of his head in indignation. 

“... (Y/n).” 

“Okay, (y/n),” the lousy, crooked grin he’d placed on his lips fell suddenly, and he leaned towards you threateningly. “You think being stingy is cute? I’m gonna pluck your fucking eyes out.” His eyes were wide, and instilled terror. Your stance grew weaker, and you’d thought it was an exaggeration when people described someone being scared as “their legs shook,” but you were proven false when yours began to tremble beneath you. 

He grabbed the pick between his teeth and pulled it out, holding it with his index and middle finger and pointing it at you warningly. He spared his surroundings a glance, seeing if there was anyone around to witness besides your weak-willed (from your description), book-loving friend.

Not a single soul was present otherwise. 

You could hear the wind whistle in your head from the absolute silence and lack of people in the park, and at your lack of response (mostly due to fear,) he reiterated, placing one hand on your wavering shoulder, the other gliding his hand through the air towards you, the pick so close to you it confused your vision. You recoiled. 

“Can you hear me?! I said I’d pluck your fucking eyes out-!” 

A black blur obstructed your vision of the pick, originating from the side, and the situation progressed too quickly for you it to resonate with you. 

The pick held by your eye went flying, and with the absolute silence erupting in the atmosphere, you could hear it land on the ground beneath you. The leg Gun had used to kick it out of his hand was still lingering in the air, and the mugger grunted. 

“Yeah, I hear you all right. Loud and clear. Pluck their eyes out? (Y/n)?” He pointed to you with his thumb, “you wanna pluck their eyes out?” 

Gun grabbed the hand he had on your shoulder, and plucked it off with unnecessary strength, a fear tactic. 

The three were silent for a second, before the middle guy straightened up. “I’ve heard all about you, book-reader boyfriend. I’m not scared.” 

Gun’s brow crinkled with his grin - this time, lifted by a sadistic pleasure. “What a coincidence,” he bumped foreheads with him, “neither am I. I’ll fucking kill you.” 

The guy laughed in his face, and you saw him cringe at his breath in his face. “What are youuuuu gonna d-“ 

THUD

It was a rough collision when the robber fell into the ground, arms splashed out on either side of him, and by now your hands had thrown over your mouth in shock at the turn of events at least thrice. 

The bottom of Gun’s heel dug into the gaps between his ribs, and the guy wrapped his hand around his ankle fruitlessly. “You’re gonna get dirt on my shirt.” 

“You’re pretty unfazed.” He chimed. “You think I was kidding? Were you kidding when you said you were gonna pluck (y/n)’s eyes out? Huh? Huh?” 

Now face to face with Gun, who was previously GREATLY distanced, he noticed his black sclera, and scrutinizing gaze, and the scar which tore apart the skin around his brow. And upon seeing eyes which wanted to kill him, the guy below him shuddered. 

Gun’s foot lifted up, and then, a series of kicks were sent to his ribcage; and you saw him wheeze. He leaned down tauntingly, not pausing the flurry of attacks, with a large smile baring his teeth. “You wanna pluck their eyes out, huh?! I’d kill everyone in fucking Gangnam if you’d even tried!” He kept going, this time with more fervor in his kicks, and he began to press into the guys’ abdomen; and you winced behind him. 

“H-hey, it’s fine now...” you said, reaching a hand out to Gun from behind, but your words fell upon deaf ears. Eventually you decided it was your responsibility to intervene, seeing the other two robbers cower and the middle guy begin to lose consciousness with lack of oxygen. 

You threw your hands into Gun’s shoulders, and pulled him back. “Hey, it’s okay! If you keep going, you’re gonna kill them! You can’t have a criminal record, can you?” 

Gun turned to you, expression not shifting in the slightest upon seeing your face. “... I can cover it up. I have the money and resources.” He said with disdain directed to the three. 

“Well-“

“They were going to hurt you, weren’t they? Why are you interfering?” 

You huffed. “I just don’t want that for you.”

The other two watched fearfully when Gun turned to face you, the air around him still dark. And if their own leader couldn’t handle that guy, what would happen to you? Interrupting him in the middle of fighting? Pulling back that monster? 

It doesn’t matter how much a guy like that likes you, when they’re doing what they take joy in - shedding blood, it never ended well. 

They winced in preparation for whatever would happen next, expecting to see you go flying like their leader had. They shuddered, after that they’d be next... right?

“... Okay. Let’s go.” 

“WH-WHAAA?!” Their jaws dropped in unison when Gun pivoted on his heel, and began to walk, expecting you to follow behind him. However as soon as his foot stepped out, he faltered. 

“Ah. Ow.” He said with a dead voice. 

Your brow furrowed concernedly. “Are you okay?” 

Now by his side, you saw him glance at his ankle. “Yeah.” He cursed under his breath. “I think I twisted my ankle doing that... ah, shit.” He plainly groaned, no real hint to him being in any pain in his voice. 

“Are you gonna be alright? Oh, no.” You said, and he looked at you with a blank expression. 

“Yeah. You’re gonna have to help me, now...” 

You nodded. “Of course!” Frantically trying to hurry, you threw his arm under your shoulder and held onto it once successful, supporting his weight with your own and unaware of the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. 

The two watched shocked as him and you retreated so... casually, straitening their eyes at Gun. That bastard, the two thought in sync, his leg wasn’t injured at all. 

Whilst the two of you walked away - him limping, he apologized. “Sorry for coming so late.” 

Your eyes darted the opposite way of him, sheepish. “It’s fine... how did you not notice? I was clearly being mugged...”

“I was only focused on you. Of course I’m gonna smile if you wave at me... who do you think I am?” 

You felt hot in the face, and internally swooned, but externally huffed. “Oh... okay. W-well, that explains it, then. It’s fine. How did you end up finding out, then?” 

“Ah,” he said. “The keywords.” 

“Keywords?” 

He nodded. “Yeah. If I hear your name and a threat in the same sentence, of course I’m gonna notice. ‘I’m gonna pluck your eyes out, (y/n).’ (Y/n). Pluck your eyes out.” He looked up casually. “Of course I’m gonna come if I hear something like that.” 

You guffawed. “Wha- I screamed your name and you didn’t hear shit!” 

“It’s different when it’s your name.” When you sent him a glare, he shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

You signed. “... Thanks.” 

He blinked at you, before chuckling with a half smile. “Don’t mention it. Just don’t ask for space to breathe anymore. When you’re away from me, bad things could happen.” 

“U-Uh, yeah...” you scratched your cheek with your free hand. “I won’t anymore. Especially after today.” 

There was a natural lull in the conversation as you helped him home, until he simpered evilly. “Sooo... ‘book-reading boyfriend?’ Boyfriend?” 

From behind, like a happy dog with his tail wagging, even from the distance the two robbers could sense the elated feeling emanating from Gun. 

This was very fun to write nd I tried rlly hard to make their dynamic like zach’s and mira’s but can’t tell if I could. I rlly hope u liked it!! Thanks for the request 💘

[himaboroshi736]

IronDad fic recs

Here. I’m a french reader, but I’ve read A LOT (like...a lot) of IronDad, so, eventually, here my fic rec. (I tried to class it by categories, but well...) (it’s gonna be very long, guys)

 Peter Parker has anxiety 

Don’t let me get me, by hopeless_hope 

He picks up his phone and sends a quick text. "hey, happy! i’m not feeling too hot today, so i think i’m gonna have to cancel. tell mr. stark i’m sorry!"

He stares at his phone, waiting for a response. It never comes, and Peter sighs sadly. There was a part of him, a small part, that really hoped he was wrong. His insides burn, and he curls up tighter into a ball and turns off his phone.

(No one’s going to try to contact him anyway.)

or

Anxiety has a way of convincing Peter that everyone hates him. Tony has a way of proving him wrong.

Midnight Oil, by @jolinarjackson

After everything that has happened to Peter over the last year - or five, really - he shouldn’t be worried about something as mundane as the ACT. When he fails it, though it sends him into a spiral of self-doubt, which only gets worse when Peter realizes that he doesn’t seem to be able to fix whatever is broken.

Tony Stark has anxiety 

do you even remember what the world looks like ?, by @iron--spider

Tony’s heart has been working on overdrive since this whole thing started. Friday has a countdown clock plastered on the heads up display, but it feels like hieroglyphics to him at this point, like some ancient language he could never master.

Because when Peter Parker is missing, things start losing their meaning real quick.

“Should be around here,” Rhodey says on the com. May is still on the other line, listening in, because once a certain amount of time goes by without word from Peter, things move into Extremely Worried Aunt territory. They’re already in Tony Is Panicking territory, and when both of those territories overlap it’s never a good time for anybody.

Time? What the hell is time? His mind is blanking numbers out entirely. Minutes are seconds are hours are years.

not like megatron, by @iron--spider

“Hi! This is Peter Parker, I can’t get to the phone right now, so leave a message and I’ll call you back later! Hopefully not too much later, but don’t get your hopes up!”

Tony knows that message by heart. He’s heard it hundreds of times, in a greyer world, and it sends shivers down his spine as he climbs into the car.

He doesn’t think about that place. That half-world. No way, that’s done, that’s over, that’s history.

“Hey, kid, don’t you know it’s bad etiquette to go and disappear on your birthday? Not allowed, really, really bad vibes from the universe. What’s going on with your suit? I wasn’t watching. Nope. Just got an alert. What’s going on? Uh, call me back.” He clears his throat and hangs up like a moron, driving out into the street.

Hypothermia trope (i really like it so if you have any suggestions...)

i knock the ice from my bones, by hopeless_hope

Peter tries to move his legs through the water, dread filling him when they don’t move, and he just hangs there, doing anything and everything he can not to focus on the feeling of ice clinging to his bones. He feels sluggish, the world blurring around him, and he rests his head on the ice, not even registering the cold anymore.

He’s just so damn tired.

“PETER!” he hears someone yell, but it’s all muffled, and he lazily drags his eyes up to see a figure descending towards him.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he thinks, This is not how my vacation was supposed to go.

or

While on what's supposed to be a relaxing vacation with the Starks, things for Peter quickly go south, and he finds himself on thin ice. Literally.

Ice Ice Baby, by @wolfypuppypiles

If Tony, Bucky or pretty much anybody that knew Peter had seen him that morning they would have smacked him upside the head. Helping people was great, everyone should give it a go, but when helping people puts you in danger it’s not so smart anymore.

AKA Peter can't get from Avenger tower to the subway without giving his winter clothes to homeless people and ends up with a severe case of hypothermia

Candle in the Window, by @madasthesea

Finals are over and Peter just wants to go home. The weather has other ideas.

Burn This Out, by @ephemeralstark

It's summer and Peter is free to be Spider-Man all day which is great, but it's summer and Peter is out as Spider-Man on the hottest day of the year which is not great.

Or, Peter gets heat stroke because he can't thermoregulate and things could not go worse for him.

(yeah, it’s not an hypothermia, but it’s linked to the fact that Peter can’t actually thermoregulate)

Post-Endgame (really like this trope too lmao)

the first birthday after, by iron_spider 

(Endgame spoilers. But The Thing doesn't happen.)

The rain falls harder and Tony turns, his neck creaking and cracking, and he sees Peter asleep over by the window. He’s holding a small, flat box, and he’s slowly slipping to the right side of the easy chair he’s in.

Tony thinks about letting him sleep, but he finds himself speaking anyway. “Pete,” he says, his voice rough and raspy.

Peter immediately startles awake. “Happy Birthday,” he says, almost like he’d fallen asleep practicing it, planning to say it as soon as he woke up. He blinks at Tony, shivering a little bit, and then he smiles. “Happy Birthday. Happy Birthday.”

Tony snorts, smiling back. “Thanks, bud,” he says.

Second Best, by Rowan_M

Tony had adjusted to parenthood quickly when Morgan came along, and was always conscious of making sure Peter isn't left out ... Almost always. When Peter gets hurt while taking care of Morgan, Tony obsess over his daughter and takes his anger out on Peter, without even checking to see if he was okay. Steve finds Peter later that night in serious pain and in need of immediate medical attention.

Or, Peter gets hurt while taking care of Morgan and Tony basically ignores him.

when you’re feeling empty keep me in your memory, by JkWriter

after everything with thanos he forgets it's his birthday. he just assumed everyone else did too.

All For You, by @ironxprince

Three weeks after the snap that saved the world, Peter learns he was the reason behind it. He learns that Tony risked death, and now has to live with the ramifications, both physical and mental, all because of him.

This doesn't sit right with him.

you save everybody, but who saves you ?, by @iron--spider

Tony doesn’t sleep, because he can’t, because too many things are plaguing him, most of all where Peter is and what he’s doing. Tony has a good view of the hallway through the windows to his room, and he stares and stares until his eyes cross, until he hallucinates, until he knows he’s going insane.

He sees Peter sneaking into the med bay at about four in the morning.

The kid’s mask is off and he’s got two short, harsh slashes across his cheek, and he’s bleeding from a slice across his neck. His suit is ripped in a few places and he’s holding onto his middle, and Tony can see his hands are shaking.

It’s like something splinters in Tony’s already broken brain, like his world narrows and there are hazy edges, both weakness and strength entwining in his veins when he sees Peter struggle up onto one of the beds in the main atrium, starting to tend his wounds without calling anybody to help.

BAMF Peter Parker 

Pizza, a Movie, and... an Attempted Kidnapping ?, by Pogokitten

“Tony. We’ll be fine,” Peter tells the man for what must be the tenth time in the last half hour.

Peter’s sitting on the couch of his and May’s apartment and building Legos with Morgan as they both watch their father’s methodical, yet anxious, pacing. He’s dressed to impress, as is Pepper who is watching the scene slightly exasperated.

“Are you sure? We can ditch the gala, kid. Just say the word,” Tony offers, halting in front of his kids.

Or: Tony and Pepper leave Peter in charge of Morgan while they go to their first gala since the third snap. Peter is expecting a calm night in with his adopted sister, but some thugs throw a wrench in his plans.

he’s good like that, by @iron--spider

“Get the hell outta here, boy,” the man says. “Or you’re gonna watch your boss die in front of you.” Then he grabs Tony by the shoulders hard, and shoves him down to his knees. The gun is louder now, like it’s filled with words that are eager to be shouted, and Tony winces when he feels the barrel press against the back of his neck. His knees weren’t ready to hit the ground that hard, and he tries to keep the pain from reaching his face.

He must fail, because Peter looks pissed.

“You’re not gonna shoot him, mister,” Peter says, somehow still trying to maintain a respectful tone, despite the clear anger written all over him.

stark robotics and technology conference, by @iron--spider

Peter leans against the wall while Tony chooses their floor, and the doors close. “Do you, uh, want me to do some interning stuff? Like go and get you coffee? Make sure the, uh—programs are all ready? Make sure the paintings are straight in the ballroom? Make sure the chairs are—”

Tony snorts. “Kid, I just thought you’d enjoy this. May told me about when it came through Queens but you two couldn’t make it because she was working and didn’t want you to go alone, and I thought, after all the shit you’ve been through lately, that you deserved something fun. No interning for you. That’s just an excuse.”

Peter remembers that. It was six months after Ben died, and he wasn’t gonna bother May too much about the conference. He didn’t know how much tickets cost anyways, or if kids his age could even go.

He really hung onto the idea of Iron Man after Ben died. Peter held him closer than ever.

Peter and Tony fighting 

dinner and a jailbreak, by killerqueenwrites

“I’m not your kid!” Peter shouts.

“Don’t walk away from me, I’m not done–“

“You’re not my dad!”

Peter fitting in after the Blip isn't as easy as Tony hoped it would be. He wants his kid back, but they can't seem to stop fighting.

and then Peter goes missing.

my old man, by parkrstark 

"I just want to help you. I want to help you understand what's wrong here and how to stop it. I used to be the same way until my father showed me how to be a man." He glanced back at Peter to sneer. "He's old enough to know better by now, but it's not your fault you didn't know how to teach him." "Teach him what?" Tony asked even though he didn't want to know the answer.

"Discipline, of course," Junior said with a wink.

--

Tony takes Peter on a weekend trip to try and change his mind about college and things go wrong. Then, they go even more wrong.

Between how it is and how it should be, by @frostysunflowers

''Doesn’t Captain Rogers ever…wonder,'' Peter winced as he fumbled for the right word, ''where you are?''

Bucky smirked. ''Steve’s a regular mother hen. Used to be me that worried about him.'' He gave Peter a pointed look. ''Better question is, isn’t Stark wondering where you are?''

Soulmates trope 

presumed dead, by killerqueenwrites 

Tony gets his first soulmark when he’s fifteen, his second when he's thirty. He's forty-six when his third appears, and forty-eight when it fades to grey.

did you see the flares in the sky ?, by justt-ppeachy

‘hi’  

One simple word was displayed proudly on the inside of his right wrist. Tony wasn’t sure when this word showed up or how long it had been there.

A line formed underneath the word and Tony could almost feel the pressure on his arm from the marker his soulmate was using to push one phrase from their skin into his.

‘i loev yu’

The letters were written slowly and messily as they showed up upon his wrist while he watched in disbelief. Not sure if he was hallucinating or just going insane, Tony rubbed at the writing, wondering if they would disappear once he looked again.

The words were barely recognizable, but they were still the best thing Tony had ever seen.

IronDad Fluff (yeah)

peter wearing tony’s hoodie, by killerqueenwrites 

Tony’s used to his clothes going missing. His MIT hoodie doesn’t often leave his closet, though, which is why he notices its absence straight away. There’s a lifetime of safety and comfort in this old hoodie, for both of them, and that’s all Tony could ever wish to give Peter.

Career Day, by @superhusbands4ever

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Peter’s enhanced senses picked up the familiar voice from outside the door. “I had a meeting this morning and then I got lost looking for the class… anyway, I’m here for Peter? Peter Parker?”

He frowned at hearing his name, still unsure what exactly was going on. He watched as his teacher continued to stand and stare out the door for a minute before seemingly remembering herself and taking a step back.

“Of course! If you could just go sit next to him until your turn, he’s in the back on the right side.”

The man stepped through the door and Peter gaped with the rest of the class as Tony Stark, in his signature suit and goatee, sporting a pair of red sunglasses and carrying a suitcase walked through the door.

Kryptonite, by forensicleaf 

The kid is acting weird.

Tony tries to figure it out.

father’s day, by @iron--spider 

It’s Father’s Day, and Tony never really had a father. Not in the real sense of the word, not in the way that counts.

Peter Parker doesn’t have a father, either. Not anymore, anyway, not since he was little, and the amount of years that have passed since then outweigh the amount of time he got with Richard Parker.

Tony wouldn’t call himself Peter’s dad. He wouldn’t, he doesn’t, he doesn’t think of himself that way, no way, no way.

He stares at himself in the mirror. He pulls down on his cheeks, makes his eyes water. He runs his hands over the roughness of his jaw and sorta hates everything about himself right now, because he’s acting like a goddamn idiot. It’s Father’s Day and he’s not a father. He doesn’t know why the hell he’s pining for something that isn’t his, shouldn’t be his, can never be his. He isn’t a father, he isn’t Peter’s father, so there’s no reason on God’s green earth for Peter and him to do something for Father’s Day.

ain’t no valley low enough, by @iron--spider (yes, again, ‘cuz she’s the best)

Peter snorts. “You know I didn’t apply anywhere in Florida.”

“Please, kid, you know all you have to do is write a beautiful essay with my recommendation attached to it and you’re in. You’ve got the scores.”

Peter has a list. Of all the places he applied to, all the places he got into. A lot of it was encouraged by the adult role models in his life, some of it by Ned daydreaming about places like California and Colorado. Mostly, Peter just applied everywhere he could think of, because he’s known for a long time that Tony was gonna help May pay for it, and he didn’t wanna limit his options. Thinking about college has been strange for him, strange to the extent that he had a full blown panic attack about it in the middle of Avengers taco night last month. He can’t really understand it, doesn’t get why it feels like the end of the world—because he’s experienced the end of the world, and it’s not which campus has a bowling alley and which school has circus classes. But he nearly blacked out all the same, sobbed in Tony’s arms on the balcony until Tony proposed this. The road trip.

and when it’s hard, i’ll place your head into my hands, by hopeless_hope

“Tony,” Pepper sing-songs to get his attention. “Your mother hen is showing.”

“What?” he snaps indignantly. “I am not a mother hen. This is just... concern. Of the average kind. Perfectly normal.”

“Of course,” Pepper humors him, and he shoots her a dirty look as he types out a quick text to Peter.

or

It's been five days since Tony's heard from Peter, who's away at college, and Tony is not coping well. (Neither is Peter.)

Peter likes cuddles (and Tony too, but he always denies it... until he can’t)

my arms will hold you (keep you safe and warm), by parkrstark 

“So, you’re telling me your body...is going through Oxytocin withdrawals?” Tony asked slowly.

“Cuddle withdrawals,” Peter corrected him. “Mr. Stark cuddles.”

TW : Rape/non-cons

make me strong, by parkrstark 

It all started when Tony introduced Peter to Skip Westcott. He just didn't know until it was too late.

(There is a lot more, but I can’t find it rn ;-;)

5+1 

5 times peter clung to tony, by parkrstark 

... and the one time tony clung to him.

You are my Dad, you’re my dad, boogiewoogiewoogie, by Hittinmiss

“Peter? What’s going on kid?” Tony asked, him popping up on the phone’s screen.

“Hey da-” Peter started automatically before immediately noticing his mistake, the look on Ned’s face proved that yes, he almost called Tony Stark dad. He needed to try recover quickly because the look on Tony’s face seemed confused, especially with his slight pause. “-aaaaaamn Mr. Stark I really like your shirt. Where’d you get it?”

Smooth.

---

5 times Peter called Tony Dad and the 1 time Tony called himself Dad

5 Times Tony Took Care of Peter..., by As_Clear_As_Crystal 

“Think if I coded a sign into your suit that says ‘Baby on Board,’ maybe criminals wouldn’t be so enthusiastic about murdering you?” Tony asks airily, poking at the bottom of Peter’s foot.

Peter halfheartedly kicks at Tony with his toe. (“That’s offensive, Mr. Stark.” )

- - -

aka: Five times Tony took care of Peter, and one time Peter took care of Tony.

5 times Peter is stuck with Tony, by @iron--spider

(...and one time he’s stuck alone.)

“I wonder if Pepper’s reported me missing yet,” Tony says, with an exaggerated sigh. “I wonder if this is some kind of scheme to kidnap me or something.”

“I think the ride’s just broken,” Peter says.

“Today of all goddamn days,” Tony says, exasperation clear in his voice and in his eyes. “Ruining our trip—”

“It’s not ruined,” Peter says. “Look, we’re hanging out."

“Real quality time,” Tony huffs. “Us, a few other trapped members of the general public, and a handful of animatronic pirates. Drunk pirates. Repeating themselves.”

5 times tony forgot peter was just a kid, by @parkrstark

...and the 1 time he didn't.

Or the one where it was hard for Tony to remember that the kid fighting next to him was still just a kid.

can i get a good night’s sleep ? can i PLEASE get a good night’s sleep ?, by peterstank 

The doors open and there’s Peter, perched on a gurney with his shirt gone and a whole lot of blood staining his side. He’s bent awkwardly, clearly trying to feel his way around whatever wound he’s got.

“Um,” Tony says, approaching, “What.”

Peter looks up and—yeah, he’s lost a lot more blood than Tony had originally thought. His face is completely fucking drained. “Hey,” he says, offering a jaunty wave before returning his attention to his side. “I got shot.”

“Oh!” Tony nods. “Oh, okay. What the fuck, kiddo?”

or: five times peter doesn’t sleep + the one time he does

Five Times Peter and Tony Had Each Other’s Back, by Sahiya

... and One Time They Needed Help.

Peter is Tony’s Biological Child

I Had the Dream Again, by Skeeter_110

Peter calls Tony in the middle of the night crying.

Congratulations, it’s a Boy, by capiocapi 

"Sir, I have the results.”

“Okay, Jarvis. Hit me.”

“It’s a match. 99.9% chance that he is your biological son, which is the percentage needed to be recognized by law as a biological parent.”

Tony’s stomach did a funny swooping dance. “Great. Congratulations to me then, eh? It’s a boy.”

You Are My Sunshine, by @iamconstantine

Tony Stark had always been a man of science and he always would be. It was his personal and fundamental belief that everything had an explanation. His eventual encounters with Norse gods, alien life, and sorcerers did kind of quake this a little bit, but still.

One thing that had always confounded him as the one thing that had no scientific explanation was fate. Murphy’s law, Finagle’s law, the butterfly effect, the domino effect, the snowball effect, and the wisest of all: “Shit happens.”

So how peculiar was it that one of the greatest things to ever happen to him began with a tray of champagne?

Serie i love you more than anything, by @iron--spider 

The highs and lows of Tony unexpectedly becoming a single dad at 31– from Peter’s early baby years, all the way past the defeat of Thanos

May’s abusive boyfriend trope 

A Peter Parker Problem, by @spagbol99

Peter Parker was back from the dead. At least that is what everybody told him. He'd been snapped out of existence until some sort of time travel and an active death wish by his mentor had saved him and the universe. Just your average sort of life for a 16 year old from Queens.

Peter comes back to find May has a husband and a kid. A new family he has to fit into. But he has done it before, he can do it again.

The only thing that feels solid is Tony: the Blip and fatherhood have mellowed him and Peter loves the bond they have now. He knows Tony would be there for him through anything. But Tony needs to focus on his own recovery - not small time Peter Parker problems. When things at home take a turn for the worse, Peter decides that he'll handle it himself. He is Spider-man. He's been to space and fought aliens. He can get through anything. After all, if May is happy, he is happy, right? Right?

(again, I’ve read a lot more but can’t find it...)

Peter Parker Whump (everyone’s favorite trope)

Danger Pizza, by alice_in_ink

The window was pushed open, and Iron Man’s head popped into his bedroom. “Here’s where I’m confused—why lock the front door but leave the fire-escape-accessible windows unlocked?” He clambered through said window. “Seems like a safety hazard.”

Peter eyed the metal suit as it straightened to a standing position. “Did you break into my window to kill me?”

The face plate lifted, and Tony’s eyes quickly looked over the teen. “Christ, kid. It looks like you’re halfway there.”

...

A wild night on patrol leaves Peter with a broken back, and boy, does he want to be able to move without dying. (So he calls Anthony Stark, obviously.)

If You Can’t Catch A Breath (You Can Take The Oxygen Straight Out Of My Own Chest), by @losingmymindtonight

"And I would hurry. Little Peter is about to be under quite a lot of pressure, and it might get a little hard to breathe.”

I’ve Got You, by @thedumbestavenger

Peter runs into a Copycat Vulture out on patrol, from there, everything escalates.

Meetings and Migraines, by AllThingsGeeky

Peter has another migraine at an unfortunate time and despite his best efforts he can’t ignore it forever.

The Most Important Thing In The World, by S0lstice

Peter’s door creaked and began to bend under the force of the crowbar and for the first time since regaining consciousness, fear began to press into him. Something very bad was happening and it was happening fast - too fast for his sluggish mind to keep up.

He went with his instincts instead, the first one always being, Help Mr. Stark.

Friendly Fire, by @jolinarjackson

Finding a careful truce with the government, the “rogue Avengers” are allowed to return to the Compound where they are put under house arrest. Peter coming to spend one week at the Compound during his summer break couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time as the opportunity to bond a little more with his mentor is overshadowed by a conflict he doesn’t quite understand. When he starts to develop a mysterious medical condition, however, the former team is forced to work together – not just to protect Peter’s identity from the DODC, but also to find the cause for his illness before it’s too late.

“He’s my kid,” Tony said, his voice hoarse. “He’s my kid and I failed him.” He covered his eyes and took a few deep, shuddering breaths. “All I ever do is fail him.” Natasha knelt down in front of him and cupped his face in her hands, waiting for him to meet her eyes before she said, “Right now, he doesn’t need you to fix this. He doesn’t need you down here. He needs you over there, in the medbay, by his side.” She thumbed tears from the corners of his eyes and ignored the ones running down her own face. “You haven’t failed him yet.”

alarm bells and panic levels, by @iron--spider

Tony lands heavy on the dock, the wood splintering hard under the metal suit. He’s having trouble breathing, his nose is bleeding, he most definitely has more than the recommended amount of broken ribs. But none of that fucking matters. The sky is clear, the assholes are down, but there’s one thing missing.

He looks over his shoulder when Rhodey lands too. His suit is dented in a few places but other than that he looks alright. His face mask flips up and Tony lets his mask retract.

“Where’s Peter?” Tony asks, his voice rough with the amount of yelling he’s been doing. Fuck these stupid assholes. They were supposed to go mini-golfing today. The kid had been looking forward to it for weeks.

Rhodey looks around, breathing hard through his mouth. “I thought you knew.”

there’s something wrong, by @iron--spider

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Tony whispers. “We should have checked you for something like this when we were resetting your arm and checking on the concussion. Goddamnit. We didn’t think.”

“He poisoned us both?” Peter asks, trying to open one eye to look at him.

“Yeah,” Tony says, brushing Peter’s hair back from his forehead. “He’s dying. He got the brunt of it, a nice fucking cocktail of bullshit, including mercury and a bunch of other toxic shit—”

“Am I dying?” Peter whispers, voice breaking.

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces), by aloneintherain

Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

“Spidey, they’ve got reinforcements. We’ve hit a bit of a snag here, and I don’t think anyone will be able to help you for a while. Think you can sit tight while we deal with this?”

The pressure on his lower back and legs was becoming too much. Peter swallowed thickly, fighting down panic. He could handle this.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I can do that.”

Collections/Series (’cause I could make an inventory of all @iron--spider stories, you know, but you have to read all of her work, if you haven’t yet) (God she doesn’t even know who I am)

iron dad bingo, by @iron--spider

stay at home, by @iron--spider

whumptober, by @iron--spider

Whumptober 2019, by @marvelous-writer

Day in the life of the Iron Family, by @marvelous-writer 

The Tumblr Archives, by @losingmymindtonight

Everything comes back to you, by @losingmymindtonight

Nice work, kid, by @madasthesea

Irondad Bingo 2019, by sahiya 

The Adventures of Spidy-son and Iron-dad, by eva7673

Tony adopts Peter (why everyone kills May, btw ?)

Accepting the Tides, by @emma--anacortes

Tony had dragged Peter from the depths of despair after May's death. It was normal that he'd grown to care a little about him, right?

Yeah, okay. He freaking loved the kid.

So naturally he would feel a little weird when Richard Parker randomly shows up in Peter's life. Naturally he'd feel protective, nervous, and confused because where has Richard been all this time? And why does Tony feel sick every time he sees him around Peter?

All he knows is if Richard hurts his kid, Tony's gonna give him hell.

Series Out of Darkness, by @starryknight09

“Is this Peter Parker?”

“Yes…”

“This is Dr. Nguyen. I’m sorry but your aunt’s been in an accident and we’re going to need you to come to Queens Memorial as soon as you can.”

Peter's life shatters with a phone call. The last person he expects helps him pick up the pieces.

[baby-cloud00]

AOT ICKS/HEADCANONS

because I said so.

A lot of these apply to a modern context, but take them as you will!

Sasha never cleans her mouth or fingers properly so there's always some sort of crumb or grease there

Ymir is not discreet AT ALL, if an old person falls in front of her, she's on the floor with them laughing, it's so embarrassing

Erwin has left the hub open on his laptop or phone on multiple occasions

He just forgets it's there; knows how to get there and that's about it

Marco constantly has paint or anything artsy on his hands, varying from graphite from pencils to marker

Sometimes leaves pencil smudges on papers from his fingers

Reiner is the one guy to lay explosive diarrhea in public restrooms

The stench suffocates the store, i wouldn't be surprised if he left skid marks on the toilet seat

Workers need a hazmat suit before they can even try to go in there

Hey, but when you gotta go, you gotta go

Hange most definitely has walked around all day with a piece of toilet paper stuck to her shoe without even noticing

Hange also has enough dandruff to cause a blizzard in Texas

It's probably due to the fact they wash their hair every 5 days or so but they really don't care

Oh, and they have greasy glasses too

Speaking about greasy, Connie's keyboard is SLIPPERY with the stuff

Mans has crumbs stuck in the cracks and everything

Connie tries his best but he really doesn't clean up well back there

I can imagine young Annie showing up to school in eyeliner thicker than Erwin's eyebrows

She hissed at people in the hallways

Mikasa acts like a pick me girl with Eren.

EW I HATED WRITING THAT

But seriously, she would do ANYTHING for his attention

Armin's nose is constantly runny, no matter how much tissue he uses

His books probably have food stains on them

Bertholdt constantly has eye boogies

Has scratched his balls in public on multiple occasions

Continuing with boogies, the crevices in Jean's chairs are FILLED with them

He might even have a wall dedicated to them too

Zeke has had lice for AGES but he refuses to do anything about it

"Oh, the bugs? They're my little friends. They make tasty snacks, too."

Pieck was a horse girl

She crawls up the stairs on all fours in the weirdest way possible

Porco uses 2 bottles of hair gel a day to get the perfect slickback

Thinks he's in a 50's musical and dances around the hallway with his leather jacket pointing finger guns at every girl in sight

When he's proven wrong in an arguement, he goes straight to insults

Eren doesn't shower for weeks on end even when he works out

Never lifted the toilet seat as a child, probably didn't flush either

Krista had a VSCO girl phase

Only wrote with glitter pens and glitter pens only for a majority of her childhood

Used to eat sugar packs for tea by themselves and has remnants all over her desk

Gabi doesn't brush her hair for weeks on end until Reiner has to intervene

Just throws it up in a ponytail, does not care

Types like a kindergartner

"where r u @? am lonley hurry"

Gabi smacks her gum, the loudest chewer on earth

Hands always covered in mud, never washes them

Falco, sweet, sweet boy

He has a sticky phone

No, tablet, and he plays cocomelon and talking tom on there too

Colt tries to help people that fall in public but makes it unbearably awkward

"are you okay 🧍"

A good thing, though, is that he'd be the one really cute barista at a cafe

Although he always drops drinks

Grisha takes so long to type and the sentence will literally be "are you here yet?"

Hair=greasy

Glases=greasy

Grisha=greasy

I physically can't bring myself to write anything bad about Carla

#milfcarla

[pricemarshfield]

don’t go

A post-canon/canon divergence Climbing Class fic. Read on AO3 here. Does not name the monsters from UD.

The thing is, Chris never believed in ghosts.

Past tense, because though Ouija boards are definitely still bullshit, flesh-eating nightmares who are his friends from beyond made his internal perspective change, a little. Less focused on Ashley (now happily dating Sam, who'd have thunk), less focused on cleverness, less focused on everything other than survival.

The problem with that is, survival is way, way less of a concern everywhere else.

No matter how much Mike asks, Chris won't go to the gym, won't go running with Sam. Instead, he goes to the gun range and shoots, practices with a dozen different guns until he can hit a target from as far as they'll let him try. Someone asks him if he wants to go hunting, and he says, "No, thanks. I don't have the stomach for it." With a practiced, self-deprecating grin and a little anecdote about getting sick in health class after watching Supersize Me (but hey, he'll still eat fast food!), they just laugh, clap his shoulder, and say, "Well, maybe next time."

Chris knows now how to hunt. He won't go because he doesn't want to go back to the mountain, but if something happens, if Jess ends up going on her expedition to find Emily's remains like she keeps talking about, if any circumstance happens that'll force him back out of his safety, he'll be ready. He has a dozen books on how to skin and prepare wild game, has a YouTube watch history that he probably shares with a future serial killer, is slowly working his way through quizzes on edible plants in the area he can forage.

Two weeks after the mountain, his friends all found it normal. Six months after the mountain, he worries he's the only one still caught up in it.

Sam's still going out in wilderness semi-regularly, albeit with so many protein bars in her bag that she could feed a small army. Mike throws himself into whatever the hell project he's involved with. (Chris and Ashley make a point of not asking about it, just to see his face turn red.) Jess rock climbs now, but however it started, now she just seems to be having fun, and Chris doesn't want to ruin the mood by asking why she's doing it. Ashley writes, poems and prose and articles, jumping on their fifteen minutes of fame to get a foot in the door of publishing.

Josh doesn't do much of anything.

They'd found him next to the bodies of Matt and Emily and Jack Fiddler, emaciated and staring at the bodies with a hunger that had caused all of this. (Chris assumes. He wasn't there, wouldn't have been there even if he'd known he would have found Josh okay. He wasn't brave before, let alone now.)

His parents won't let him keep a handgun in the house, so he moves.

Finding an apartment is hard. Nothing to do with the publicity or lack of options or even money; he just is picky. It needs good WiFi, because he's still Chris Hartley. It needs a room without windows, easily defensible and big enough to be able to stockpile food. It needs walls that aren't painted a sickly green color that he jokes is scarier than the idea of going back.

justgidding: Terrible joke!

justgidding: Even if it wasn't in bad taste, it's just not funny.

sn0wflakequ33n: I thought it was funny Chris

gogogadget: thank you jess

screamking: Oh bro is that that place on Hilda St?

screamking: I looked at that place when I was trying to find a place

screamking: Definitely the worst

ladykiller: why did you move out, rich boy? don't you have like six bedrooms in your old place?

sn0wflakequ33n: don't be a dick, mike

smartcookie: Eh

smartcookie: Not the most dickish thing one of us has done this year

justgidding: Okay guys, let's not bring this up over TEXT!!

sn0wflakequ33n: why do you hate the internet sam

smartcookie: I always forget how much of a Luddite you are, babe

ladykiller: i don't know what that means

gogogadget: i feel like we've gotten farther from the point

gogogadget: which is how ugly these walls are

So, yeah. Apartment hunting. Would it be weird to ask Josh what place he found? He needs to move if he's gonna get a gun, and while he knows logically it's not going to help and that he's not in danger, he's pretty sure just having it around would be great for his peace of mind.

Also in the case of monster attack, but at this point, preparedness for monster attacks and his peace of mind are pretty much one and the same. Not only correlational but causal relationship.

gogogadget: josh dyou mind sending me the address?

screamking: Why, you coming over?

gogogadget: trying to find a place

gogogadget: or are you still looking?

screamking: Nah, here

screamking has sent you their location!

---

Chris is sure that the place Josh's sent him will be too expensive, because Chris is comfortable, but Josh is. Well. His family owned a mountain (past tense). But as it turns out, if he moves in now in February rent is cheaper for as long as he lives here. It's still a lot, but it's at the very upper range of his budget rather than completely out of it.

They don't allow pets, but they do allow (legal) guns, and Chris signs the lease right after seeing the place. The property manager seems thrilled, but Chris doesn't really care why; he's just glad to have a place.

Sam and Ashley are the only two friends available to help him move, though Ashley mostly just picks through his books. Chris doesn't have a ton of stuff, and the only really heavy things are the one box of books and his PC. It takes one trip in just the one car and then he's in his apartment, alone.

Unpacking takes the better part of a couple days, but that's mostly just building furniture and setting up his food stores. The place doesn't quite feel like his, but he's alright with that. It feels safe, and that means a lot more.

His neighbor keeps thudding against the wall, though, and at 2am, when it wakes Chris up, he bangs back in annoyance.

"Sorry," his neighbor calls.

"...Josh?" Chris responds.

"Oh, what?" Josh says, and then Chris' phone lights up.

gogogadget: dude what the fuck

screamking: My bad, dude

screamking: Won't happen again

gogogadget: look as long as it's not ghosts i'm okay lol

screamking: I've got some bad news for you

gogogadget: JOSH WE TALKED ABOUT PRANKS

He can hear Josh laughing from across the wall, and Chris texts back a bunch of middle finger emojis.

screamking: If the ghosts do scare you, consider this an open invitation to come over

gogogadget: there are BETTER WAYS to invite me over dude

gogogadget: game nights

gogogadget: weed

gogogadget: just a straight up booty call

Chris doesn't really realize what he's said until after he's sent it, and then he briefly considers skipping out on his lease so he can go lie down outside and wait to die.

screamking: So if I were to do one of those now

screamking: You'd come over?

gogogadget: if you have someone over and that's what the banging's about i'll literally never talk to you again

gogogadget: just so you know

screamking: Nah it's just a tennis ball

screamking: Helps with anxiety

screamking: Dude?

screamking: If this isn't your thing we can still be friends, man

screamking: That better be you knocking on the door

---

justgidding: Chris, wake up!!!

justgidding: You said you'd go to the farmer's market today

justgidding: I WILL break this door down I don't care about your security deposit.

justgidding: Ashley says you're not answering your phone

justgidding: Josh is, though :)

justgidding: I'm texting the group chat

gogogadget: groupchat is one word

justgidding: Get dressed now we're going to the farmer's market!

gogogadget's phone can no longer recieve messages! This could be due to a loss of WiFi or the phone being turned off.

justgidding: Bitch?

gogogadget's phone can no longer recieve messages! This could be due to a loss of WiFi or the phone being turned off.

[ofmythsandmadness]

stop moving | d.h

you do diego’s eyeliner. 2k words.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

NOTES: gender neutral. long haired diego. i don’t know why i’m writing this and i kinda hate it lol, i rarely write this sort of thing but y’know. i’m going to check all messages, notifs & messed gems in the morning, i’m really only posting this and ghosting again, bc i know otherwise i’ll never do it. and y’know, i want to feel productive about something. take care folks <3

BUY ME A COFFEE HERE. | CHECK OUT MY OTHER WRITINGS HERE.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"CAN YOU PLEASE STOP MOVING?!”

Hot breath stings your trembling fingers as Diego huffs a laugh; it’s barely a sound, a mumble of a chuckle, but you feel it vibrate through your body and hit your hand and it almost does you in. You almost just give up and confess your undying attraction, right then and there. And as though you need more contact, even more of him pressing against you, egging you closer to the precipice that will surely be your infatuated doom. 

“You’re the one who asked to do this, you don’t get to complain.”

“Well, you wanted it. You agreed to this!”

“I--” another exhale against your hand, another peal of laughter following shortly. You've half a mind to clamp his mouth shut with it, if it wouldn’t ignite yet another ill-thought fantasy of yours. “This was still your idea.”

Your smile buds and blooms despite your brain begging your lips to be still. You can’t help it; he’s too good at weaseling into the cracks of your composure. One look, one soft chuckle and you’re set for life. It doesn’t help that you’re basically on his lap, cradling his face in your hands like he’s a baby, and his own fingers tap-tap-tap away on your hips, creating a rhythm no one else but you can make out. Honestly, you’re surprised you haven’t totally cracked yet, this close and this personal.

“Shut your eyes.”

“They are shut.”

“No they’re not!” you poke lightly at the fluttering lids. Your lip snags on your bottom lip; a poor attempt to hide a giggle. “I can’t do this with your eyes open.”

“D'aww…” his lids shut as he groans. “So I’m just supposed to sit here? Let you draw on my face in total darkness?”

You click your tongue, half in disapproval in his exaggeration, and half because you’ve won yet again against his stubbornness. “I won’t be long. Suck it up.”

“Sure. Y’know, I have siblings; I know how long it takes them to do makeup, and-”

“-stop moving, asshole!” Your free hand tugs ever lightly on a strand of hair, one of the many that’s slipped out of his ponytail. Repressed thoughts flash in sultry red across your thoughts and you swallow, quickly letting the hair go. “I-I need you to stay still, or this will take forever.”

Diego sighs and his grip tightens around your hips. Before you know it, he’s moving you. “Then stop wriggling,” he grumbles, flattening you against his legs. You’re basically straddling him, at that point, and your mind goes absolutely blank at how much more intimate this feels. Does he notice? Or is this just another friendly motion you’re yet again reading into?

Your mouth tastes of cotton balls and it’s dry as an Arizona summer. Still, you manage an ‘okay’ before readying your pen again. All you can hope for is a steady hand, though by the way he still holds your waist, and how your mouth lingers mere inches from his lips -- well, you’re coming undone.

It’s just eyeliner, you tell yourself. Your hand rises and swipes; black begins to pool its deep colour against his lashes, low and thin. The line builds taller, thicker as you work, extending out to the corner of his eye. As he breathes, and you try to remind yourself how to, the eyeliner pen works its shaky magic and draws the slightest tinge of a wing against his skin. 

“How’s it going?”

At least he’s kind enough to mumble it, though his face still shifts under your hold. Once more your tongue clicks. 

“It goes better when you don’t speak.”

He swallows his laugh; you know, because you feel his throat work as you hold his head steady. It’s strange and exhilarating, to be so close and still so far away. You want to cradle his cheeks gentler, to hold his face with the heart of a lover, but you’re terrified he’ll recognise your touch and realise your feelings. So you barely touch him and remind yourself to be professional about this.

It’s eyeliner, not a rom-com.

“I’m bored,” he whisper whines. 

“Shh.”

“It’s too quiet.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, patting his cheek gently. “M’working.”

“Y/N...”

You pull away and sit back on his thighs. His left eye doesn’t look half bad, but if he keeps talking… “You can’t talk, ‘else it’s gonna look bad!”

“Then you talk!”

You baulk. “What?”

“I’ll be quiet,” he swears, pouting up to you with eyes still shut, “but please, say something before I lose my mind.”

“Well, I-I-what about?”

“I don’t know. Anything.” He smiles softly. “I like hearing you talk. Don’t care what about.”

You could die right then and there. It’s a simple compliment, it’s really the bare minimum, but you’re already head over heels. And just a couple of soft spoken works are all you need to do you in and nearly keel you over, still straddling his muscular thighs.

“Uh…” you cough, forcing out the giddy tremble that threatens to take your voice. No lovesick teen voice today, thank you very much. “Okay. I don’t have much to...well, the other day, I saw my coworker totally wipe out leaving work.” You pause, expecting some reply, but he stays silent. “And he... he ate so much shit, he might as well dunked his head in a gas station toilet. And - and you know, normally I’d try to sympathise, but when you always make a point to park in my parking spot, I don’t care. Brett’s such an ass. And I don’t blame him, cause he’s got an asshole name -- Brett can’t be anything else but an asshole. So it's his parents fault probably but still, I…”

You continue on, slipping from the topic of your coworker to the free muffin you got with your coffee last week, to the prospects of buying a pet to keep your apartment less lonely, and to what probably felt like a thousand and one things ranted at him. All the while your hands continue, making neat work of a task that had just felt impossible.

And miraculously, aside from a chuckle thrown now and then, Diego stays silent. Maybe he actually means it. Maybe he does like your voice -- or he’s so bored he’s falling asleep, you don’t know. But it’s okay, you don’t let yourself linger on that, too content with taking in his relaxed features and the gentleness of the afternoon sun on the two of you.

“Aaaand….there!” With a triumphant shout, you throw the eyeliner to the side and your hands plunge towards the sky, fist-pumping like you’d just won the lottery. Your body bounces up and down on his lap like a child meeting Santa; in your excitement, you barely notice. “You’re done!”

“That’s it?”

“Yup.” You grabble for a mirror, looking away from him for a moment as you reach for the handle. Wiping it off, you’re focused solely on making sure the glass is clean enough for him to see himself in, and your brain is distracted enough to totally forget what you’ve even done, enough so when you look up, all you have is,

“Oh.”

Look, you know Diego is an attractive man. You’ve known since the day you met; he’s a beautiful guy, a handsome asshole who wormed his way into your befuddled heart before you could even learn his name. He’s pretty enough that if he wasn’t so set on his weird vigilante career, he could probably shoot for being a damn supermodel. He’s a catch! But all those years of knowing that and feeling like that could not prepare you for the sight in front of you.

Diego squints at you, cocking his head. “Is it okay?”

“I…” Delicate black lines his upper lash line, making his deep brown eyes stand out even more. He’s smiling still, full lips curving up to only make your heart pound faster. A strand of his hand falls across his face, painting the gentlest of shadows but it doesn’t bother his pretty face. “I...no, no, yea-ah…”

“Wow,” he laughs, jabbing a finger into your side. “Eloquent.”

“I-I-shut up,” you stammer. You force the mirror into his hands and look away. You’re still on his lap, still straddling his lap and the logical part of your brain begs you to get it together and fall off, already. But the stupid, foolish, absolutely idiotic part leaves you paralysed. “Just look for yourself.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for him in the silence. There’s nothing, though, for achingly painful seconds, until the mirror shifts down. “Huh.”

“Huh, good? Or bad?” 

“I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Really? What’s wrong?”

“It’s not bad,” he assures you, his smile evident in his tone. “Just different. Don’t know how to feel about it.”

“O-oh...well, if it makes you feel better, I think it looks great.”

“You do?”

Oh, dammit. That came out with way too much enthusiasm, didn’t it? Your legs are concrete as you shift, face angled towards the floor. Hopefully he’s strong enough to push you off him when your body literally catches flame from humiliation. 

“You look good man,” he mocked back to you. But he’s grinning, egging you on like a child who knows he’s got you twisted around his pinky finger. “Come on, say it like you don’t have a gun to your head!”

And maybe you do, maybe you’re holding the revolver to your temple, just asking to get screwed if you dare speak beyond the most stilted compliment you’ve ever extended to someone. He’s a friend, you remind yourself; friends are allowed to compliment the other. They’re allowed to say they look good and not make it a thing, even if they wish it was a thing, and--

“--hey? You in there?”

“Sorry,” you say to the floor. You swear a thousand curses before looking back to Diego. And, yeah -- he still looks impossibly good. The ageing afternoon sun falls just perfectly against his skin, flushing him into the being of a god, standing in your apartment while you, a mere mortal, remains stuck to his thick thighs.

You gulp in air desperately, trying to catch your gaze on something, anything else -- but nothing sticks. He’s still there, inches from you, desperately aching for you to stare at.

“No, uh, yeah. You look - you look hot.”

Wait.

That wasn’t--

“-I look hot?”

That isn’t what you were supposed to say.

“I,” you have literally nothing to save yourself. This is the end! You’re young Leo and Rose is shoving you off the door and into the icy waters, and you’ve just got one last look at pretty Diego to satiate the freezing burn before you succumb to it. “I...wasn’t...that wasn’t what I meant.”

He has no right to look so smug. But he does it anyway. He leans away from your hands as they flutter through the air on their own accord, looking at you through half-lidded pools of caramel. “You don’t think I look hot?”

“Don’t,” you warn, with little strength behind it. “Don’t twist my words.”

“I’m just asking.”

He leans back in. You’re almost touching again. 

Is this weird? This is definitely weird.

You swallow back the lump in your throat and stare back at him. This all feels like fifth grade all over again -- awkward, sticky and like every move is the wrong move. But you can’t stop yourself from playing into his hands, because that sly, shameful part of you wants this more than will ever be admitted. You want him to look at you like this, like you could hang the stars if he asked you to...and you want him to pull you closer, as he does, and mean it.

Could he?

“Would you hate me? If I thought you looked hot?”

Diego head cocks to the side as he seemingly contemplates your words. A nudge meets your side; you look down to see his hands once again reaching for you. Though it's on their own accord this time, gently landing on your left hip, then the right. You shiver.

“That depends,” he says slowly. His eyes narrow, black wings just barely crinkling in. “D’you mean it like, ‘oH, that’s so-oo hot, woW-’”

Your laugh is hardly a whisper. It cracks even before your lips. “Come on.”

“Or, do you…” his fingers dig in a little more. They nudge at the fabric of your top, daring it to move enough so they could cradle the flesh hidden underneath. “You mean it the other way?”

Heart in throat, all the courage you can possibly muster with it, you mutter, “the...other way, probably.” Then a second later, “is that okay?”

“Mm…” His fingers finally reach your skin. You shiver under his touch, warm and unflinching as they brush against the soft curves. Diego’s face comes towards your own and you force yourself not to move. But he doesn’t stop, instead he goes past you, brushing his plush lips against your earlobe. “I would say...that if all this took was making you do my eyeliner, I shoulda asked years ago.”

“I, okay...don’t play with me, here--”

“--I’m serious,” he protests lowly. His lips leave your ear but they don’t run far. Instead, you find them a brush away from your own, just as you were minutes before. Only this time, you don’t try to clamp your mouth shut and skirt away from the touch. You nudge your nose against his own, exhaling softly as more skin meets the heat of his own. “You think I just let anyone sit on my lap like this, without thinkin’ it could be more?”

You shrug like this is normal. Like you’re perfectly at peace with the universe and the way you’re wondering how his tongue would taste, pushing back against your own. “I mean...do you?”

“No,” he chuckles low. “No, I’m...not into friendly lap dances, actually.”

“O-oh. Mm.”

He pulls you closer. He wants you closer.

“Diego…” You’re unravelling. You’re fucking unravelling, unnerved by his voice and his hands and you’re putty in them, all inhibitions sliding away like you’re three drinks in. His hands by your sides leave their marks against your skin; you can feel the pads of his fingers, burning into your skin like they were molten iron and not just mere brushes. “I...”

“Tell me.” He sounds cocky. He has a right to be, even if you’re damned to admit it. “Tell me what you think.”

Your hands shiver up his forearms, clinging to his bare shoulders as he pulls you impossibly closer. Your mind’s going a mile a minute and you refuse to listen to a single thought. You’re only feeling him.

“Y/N…”

“Fine,” you huff, with a smile. Your noses brush again; your eyes flutter shut with his image imprinted against their lids. “I think you look...hot as hell, Diego.”

“Yeah.” He’s grinning; you can hear it in his voice, that smirk that makes your gut flip like a damn rollercoaster ride. “S’what I thought, baby.”

And then he kisses you.

A/N: i normally hate writing oblivious characters but this wasn’t even intentional really. every time i try to write something remotely sexual i just lead the reader into ‘oH tHiS iS jUsT wHaT fRiEnDs Do’ and ‘iT’S wEiRd rIgHt’. to my defense...i doubt you’re on this page reading this expecting good sexual tension. i’m not the tua writer for that; let me know if you want recommendations for that because trust me, there are better authors for that. for now, you get this. <3

[aceofspadegrass]

Roller disco night in the club at the beach

Can you imagine the absolute ✨flair✨ hatter would use to announce and participate in this soon to be beloved event?

Would participation be mandatory?

Would militants still be scary on roller skates?

You’re the only one with the answers we’re all desperate to know

Roller Disco

Characters: Aguni Morizono, Hatter, Chishiya Shuntaro, Niragi Suguru, Arisu Ryohei, Usagi Yuzuha, Kuina Hikari (Not named, but she's there briefly)

Genre: Fluff. Roller Disco, baby!

1.6k words

I have done it! I have made the rollerskating thing a thing! I tried my best to make it as fun as possible, and even if legally you can't build a whole rink in a few days or so, this is fiction and time is a construct! I am a Time Snipper! Hehe! >:3c!

Anyways I do hope you have fun reading this. :D

Being the higher ranking members to the Beach, the sole place that had a constant source of food, water, drugs, and electricity, they got the special privilege of having to deal with Hatter a whole lot more than anyone else in the Beach.

Sometimes that meant they were dragged into his silly schemes that Hatter would concoct on a sheer whim, out of boredom and the rule that stated they were allowed to do whatever they want whenever they want. It’s led to strange ideas and occurrences, but usually they were harmless.

Today was similar, Hatter rounding up the executives and militants to the meeting room, as well as Arisu and Usagi. The latter weren’t high ranking at all, left around the 40s in the ranks, but Hatter seemed to enjoy them nonetheless.

Everyone takes their usual seat around the table, save for Last Boss continuing to stand despite the perfectly normal seat, which was taken by Arisu instead. Usagi stood nearby him, everyones attention on the leader to this entire organization. Hatter grins at them, visually brimming with excitement and a new idea that he just had to get out to his inner circle, standing up and scanning everyones expression. It ranged from faces of neutrality, boredom, and slight interest from a few, nobody matching the sheer excitement that Hatter was holding in.

After a few moments of silence, Aguni speaks up, hands folded in his lap and eyes staring straight through Hatter’s favourite sunglasses. “ Mind telling us what this is about?” His voice was tired but inquisitive, Hatter grinning and straightening to his full height, holding his arms out like he was the next coming of a flying squirrel.

“ Yes, yes! Well, I have decided that we, as Beach members, should be allowed to have access to even more fun than ever before, and I hear one of the rooms here is perfectly empty and ready to be used as something that not every place has ever seen before! People here are allowed to do whatever, yes? But there is only so much you can do here without getting bored from the usual sights, so I thought of a brilliant idea!”

“ And that is….?” Aguni’s eyebrow raises up a little, overall not knowing where he was getting at. Hatter just continues to imitate a lowercase T while emitting his usual cheerful chaotic energy.

“ We’re gonna open up roller disco!”

There was several minutes of stunned silence, everyone looking straight at the still eager tomato waterfall, Chishiya’s lip quirking in a half-amused half-mocking smile. Niragi just squints at Hatter, a look of confusion clea on his face. The others were mostly just stunned to the point where their expressions didn’t really change much, give or take minute amounts of confusion.

“ Roller….. disco.” Aguni echoes, flabbergasted. “ You want roller disco." “ Yes! Yes! It’ll be a blast for the Beach! It’ll give them some extra steam to burn off, and it’ll be fun for everyone! Who doesn’t love a good disco?” “ Who likes dancing to disco nowadays? That’s fucking boring.” Niragi pipes up, his lips curled into a mocking sneer. He scoffs, leaning back in his seat. “ And think about it, not everyone would know how to roller-skate and not look like a fucking fool. Hell, I bet the cracked egg over there doesn’t know.” He snorts, glancing at Chishiya, who ignores his glare and keeps his attention on anything else of interest to him. “ Bet you’ll just eat shit and knock yourself out on the rink.” He imitates a person with a hand, crashing it into the table with an exaggerated noise from his mouth, ending it with his tongue sticking out and a bark of a laugh.

Chishiya glances at him, eyes flicking from his face down and back up again in a smooth manner, and his lips curl again, Niragi glaring at him. “ Perhaps it’ll be your fate too~” He chimes, Niragi narrowing his eyes at the smug vanilla eclair. Aguni has to wave him down before Niragi had the chance to leap over the table to strangle Chishiya, or even pick up his gun off the table and threaten Chishiya any more.

Hatter hums at the rebuttal anyways, taking it into consideration. “ Well, then they’ll just have to suck it up and learn if they want to roll with us! The more the merrier that loves roller disco the better! Say, who thinks this is a great idea!” He raises his hand in favour, and the others quickly discuss among themselves, Hatter still vibrating with sheer joy and the thought of going rollerskating with everyone and seeing how many people make a fool of themselves so he can talk about it later in his chambers.

Eventually, a few of them raise their hands in favour, taking the majority of the total group, Hatter’s lips stretching even wider as they agreed with him.

It takes a few days before the rink was ready, a few of them having to go around and look for people with any skill in architecture and craftsmanship to eventually renovate some old rooms into a large, functional rollerskating rink. It took a little bit, but eventually the rink was approved to be skated on. Hatter even took the time to make sure the aesthetics were perfect, setting up a real disco ball in the center and painting parts of the room with fluorescent paint and arming black lights everywhere.

Then came the announcement. It was during his usual game announcements, Hatter standing over the hundreds of Beach members with a proud grin. “ Hello everyone! I know we are all excited to go out and collect cards so that we may soon get out of the Borderlands as quickly as we can, but we have a very special announcement to make before I send you all on your ways to do your best in returning the cards!” Hatter throws his hands out to the crowd, a handful of confetti flying out of his hands, soon accompanied by Kuzuryuu and Aguni setting off the confetti cannons they had in their hands at the same time, raining confetti throughout the awed crowd.

“ Now, as people may have rumoured throughout our beloved Beach, there has been a special surprise coming to everyone for a while, down in the east wing! It’s been many days, many hours of long hard work done by a group of our hardworking people, but we have finally done it! As a gift to all of us, in celebration of still fighting onwards, I, Hatter, am proud to announce that we have built a rollerskating rink for everyone to enjoy at all hours of your time! And what’s more, it’s not just regular rollerskating, but the most greatest version of all: Roller Disco!” Hatter raises his arms out with a grin, people by instinct cheering him on and applauding, many getting excited off of one another and from the thought of a new place to hang out and play. Hatter looks down among his people, giddy from being able to reveal his newest thought baby, and starts his usual encouragement to the Beach about the games and collecting their cards, sending them into a positive uproar of pride and joy before everyone filed out the doors to their possible deaths.

By the time Hatter was back, having gone to a game with his good pal Aguni, people were already flooding the room for the new rink, people skating around in circles and having a good time. It settled a warm spot in Hatter’s heart, the man running off to snatch a pair for himself to try it. In the frenzy he lost Aguni for a bit, but when he comes back out in bright white skates with orange tips and black laces, he sees Aguni already on the rink slowly making his way around by himself. Hatter doesn’t hesitate to get inside and catch up to him, grinning at his long time friend. “ Having fun?” Hatter chirps through the disco music blasting through the speakers, Aguni slowly nodding as he gets comfortable and speed up, people trying their best to skate out of the way from Aguni skating past them with a rather concentrated expression. It only made Hatter laugh, watching Aguni scare off the more frightened skaters by sheer appearance. Hatter knew Aguni never means to, he just was a more serious guy and wanted to concentrate on not eating ass in the rink.

Hatter pauses, laughing to himself. He supposes there’s nothing wrong with that~

A bit later he spots a few of his cherished other high ranked members make their way onto the scene, a few missing from either him missing them entirely or not wanting to skate at all.

Among them was Niragi and Chishiya, of course, Hatter unable to hear the taller charred rock through the music, but still getting the feeling it was one of challenge. The smaller rock of the two apparently accepted as they speed off, trying to out-skate the other. From what Hatter got to see, Niragi was quite literally pushing everyone aside in his race around the rink in order to get past, Chishiya preferring the route of dodging and even disappearing straight form Hatter’s higher vantage point before reappearing meters away from where he was last seen. It was actually impressive.

That woman that Chishiya was always with was there as well, helping a very confused Beach member on the rink as they stumbled like a wee fawn with their proud and stable mother. Something like that, at least. Hatter chuckles, still cruising along as disco pounded in his ears and people laughed around him, some tumbling and others gliding as if one air. Hell, he might’ve even seen someone with bright pink Hello Kitty skates reading a book while they skated, which was fucking magnificent.

Yeah, he wasn’t regretting this idea at all.

Even when he sees poor Arisu immediately skate straight into a wall at hyperspeeds and flip over the wall while Usagi skates after him.

Yep, no regrets.

[chancelloramidala]

Staring at the Sun ➤ Evan Buckley

Chapter One: You’re Fucking Joking.

Warnings: shooting, gunshot, blood, hospitals

Masterlist

Injuries on the job, especially as a firefighter, was nothing new. You had to be ready to endure whatever came at you, it was apart of the job description to be frank. But nothing could prepare Marceline Pierce for getting fucking shot, not once, but twice. The first bullet hit her in the thigh, luckily barely missing her femoral artery and stayed lodged in there, while the second on swiped clean through her left abdomen.

The call was to an cocaine overdose at a suburban mansion, and whilst everyone else was helping the victim, Marceline and Buck searched the rest of the house for the person who dialed 9-1-1. They made the stupid decision to split up so they could more ground because when I tell you the mansion was huge, it was. That’s when Marceline found who they were looking for in the bathroom.

It was a white male, early thirties and completely coked up by the smudged white lines on the marbled counter along with the white power covering his nose. He looked severely disheveled and was waving a gun around, muttering to himself and pacing back and forth. Marceline tried to talk the guy down, keeping her hands up to show that no she wasn’t a threat but didn’t keep her guard down. If worse came to worse, she was going to try and take the gun.

After that, everything was kind of... hard for her to remember if you could believe it. There were certain things she could remember, like how she was carefully walking towards the guy, Johnny that was his name, when Buck suddenly entered the room in search for Marceline. Johnny then pointed to gun at Buck, the last person, she wanted to be near a fucking gun.

So she acted on instinct, her mind yelling at her to make sure Buck was safe. Marceline charged towards Johnny, and when her hands were wrapped around his wrists, it went off and her left thigh was on fire. But it didn’t matter, Buck was still in danger. She groaned, biting through the pain as she staggering towards Johnny when he shot at her again but this time aiming for her side.

That’s when she finally fell, sort of slow-mo like as she bled onto the tiled floors.

Bobby was suddenly hovering over her, so was Chimney. Talking was hard at the time, so she just stared blankly at her Captain as one of the paramedics tried to stabilize her for transport. Buck was suddenly there too, he looked angry and seemed to be shouting but to be honest, Marceline couldn’t hear what he was saying.

But... where was Johnny?

Was the gun away?

Was Buck safe now?

Her mind was spinning.

She was then inside of the ambulance, Bobby beside her and holding her hand as he and Chimeny told her to stay awake. And Marceline tried, she really did. 

But, fuck, her eyes were heavy, almost as if someone put bricks on them.

So against her Captain’s orders, she slept.

Later, much later, Marceline woke up in a hospital room to the beeping of machines she was hooked up on and a cartoon playing incessantly on the shitty TV. Sitting beside her was her best friend, roommate, and ex-girlfriend Nicolette Bishop.

Apparently, she’s been out for four days from a medically induced coma after the shooting incident. Her team has been visiting since then, leaving small gifts and reading to her until she woke up. Even Nic’s daughter, Gemma came to visit a few times and proof of that was her poorly painted toenails and drawings left by her bedside.

Even though she was glad to be alive, Marceline couldn’t help but wonder if Buck was okay. Her chest was tight with anxiety at that thought.

Were her efforts in vain?

Did she really get fucking shot for nothing?

“No, Buck’s fine.” Nic told her as she fluffed Marceline’s pillow for the hundredth time that hour. “He visited you while you were out, just talking about random things, I didn’t really hear him.”

She relaxed at that, inwardly smiling at the fact that he was here when she was asleep.

The doctor said she’d be out of commission for at least a month and a half to heal properly and then another for physical therapy and check-ups.

Marceline fucking hated that. She verbalized that to her doctor, who wasn’t surprised and just shrugged before leaving.

What was she supposed to do till then? Sit her ass on the couch in front of the television and watch shitty reality TV? Plus, she knew Nic was going to baby the hell out of her till she could walk by herself.

But Nic wasn’t the only person ready to help Marceline.

By the time Marceline was released from the hospital, the 118 had already prepared a schedule where they’d take turns to spend the afternoon with her when they had the days off.

The last thing she wanted as her team to step into her home, one of the few places where she could separate her work life with her home life. But it’s not like she was able to have a say in any of this.

Nic was absolutely thrilled for the extra help, knowing that she’d be a little preoccupied from her job as a caretaker to take anymore personal days off, when only the month before Gemma was sick with a stomach bug.

For the next two months and a half, Marceline was bombarded by Bobby’s cooking, Chimney’s horrible jokes, and Hen’s warm hugs. As for Buck? Well he visited a little less than the rest of them, continuously thanking her for basically saving his life. The poor woman didn’t know how to respond to this, only lamely shrugging and picking at her nails while saying, “I just did what anyone else would do...” for the one’s they love...

In between those heartfelt visits, Athena Grant came by to give her a stern talking to about charging at someone with a loaded weapon. For as long as Marceline could remember, Athena was the mother-figure she never had growing up in the foster system and always fretted when she did something a little too reckless on the job.

“What the hell were you thinking? That druggie had a gun pointing at you, Marceline! You’re obviously not bulletproof!” Athena would go on a tangent, wagging her finger at the younger woman. 

“But he pointed the gun at Buck too, Athena!” Marceline shot back with a type of ferocity that the cop never saw before. “I...I didn’t think at the time, I know that but... I didn’t care what happened to me.” she chewed at her lower lip as she stared at the older woman. “Buck was in danger, I just- I had to- I would never forgive myself if something-” happened to him.

Marceline broke down, her hands now shaking as tears spilled out of her eyes. She broke eye contact with Athena, covering her face with her shaky hands to hid how embarrassed and vulnerable she felt in this moment.

Athena watched the young woman that she considered one of her own as she was struck with a realization. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you sweetheart?”

Marceline whimpered, curling herself in a ball that wouldn’t break her stitches.

“Oh, baby,” Athena sat down next to her and wrapped her arms around the weeping woman before pulling her into a side hug. “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time, I was just worried about you.” she placed a kiss to Marceline’s hair. “But I understand. We do crazy things for the people we love.”

Marceline was finally cleared to go back to work in the next two weeks. Her confession was only known to Athena and Nic (the latter only learning this piece of information months beforehand with a drunk Marceline going on and on about why she loves Buck), and was never spoken about again.

But after her sort of near death situation, Marceline decided that she should tell Buck how she feels. Even if he was a self-diagnosed sex addict. It didn’t matter. Life was too short to have any regrets, right?

Marceline came to her first day back with anxiety settling in her bloodstream, her blue duffel bag hung over her shoulder. She was glad that there was no one greeting her or anything, it was as if she never got shot. All she wanted was to get back to work and have everything go by smoothly. Then she walked over to her locker, “PIERCE” written in neat, bold handwriting and stuffed her things inside.

“Mars, come up, breakfast is getting cold!” Bobby shouted over the railing.

She grinned. God, she missed Bobby’s cooking. Not that she didn’t have constant access to it because there were literally tons of leftovers currently sitting in her fridge, but it was different when Bobby cooked at the fire station. Now, it was actually a home cooked meal.

“Alright, Bobby, hold on,” she yelled back at him before ascending up the stairs, holding the railing because wow did these steps get bigger somehow?

And as she finally reached the top steps, she almost immediately wanted to turn around run away.

“Welcome back, Marceline!” everyone cheered and smiled excitedly underneath a large, brightly colored banner hung up above.

Fuck, this is not what she wanted. “Oh gosh,” she started, her hand finding it’s way into her hair. “You guys really didn’t have to-”

“Ba-ba-ba,” Chimney shook his head and stepped forward before slinging his arm around her shoulder. “Yes we did, we’ve missed your brooding presence inside the truck and had to celebrate your return.”

"Look, we know you didn’t want a big welcome back kind of party, so it’s just us, some cake, and pure vibes.” Hen looked at Marceline thoughtfully with a small smile.

It really was just Bobby, Hen, Chimney, and Athena. The presence of Buck was missing, but that wasn’t too surprising, he tended to be late to almost everything.

Bobby then held up a cake with a bright smile. “It’s ice cream cake, your favorite.”

Yes, ice cream cake is indeed Marceline’s favorite. And, yes, she really did not want to make a big deal about her return... but the hopeful and expecting looks on her teams faces made her throw away her previous reservations.

“Alright, fine.” she sighed before playfully shoving Chimney’s arm off of her shoulder. “I guess, I’ll enjoy myself until we have a call.”

“Ah, that’s the spirit!” Athena smiled and clapped her hands together. “Okay, here are the plates and the utensils-”

“Hey guys, sorry for being late,” Buck’s voice filled the air and Marceline almost instantly whipped around with a dumbest smile on her face. “But I wanted to bring Abby,”

Abby? Who the fuck was Abby?

Marceline’s smile wavered at the sight of a redheaded woman who was at least double her own age standing behind Buck. With closer inspection, they were holding hands.

Oh...

“That’s alright Buck, c’mon and get some cake before Marceline eats the whole thing,” Bobby smiled at the other man and waved the couple over.

"Well, I felt a little silly coming here without anything so I brought brownies,” Abby smiled lightly, holding up store-bought brownies as she walked over.

“All food is welcomed,” Athena replied in kind to her before sneaking at glance at Marceline who stood scarily still and was obviously biting back a few emotions.

Abby nodded and placed the brownies on the table as she took a plate that Buck handed her before turning her attention to Marceline. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Abby, I’ve heard great things about you”

Marceline hated how almost on sight she hated Abby’s guts. And it was over a stupid fucking reason, a boy. God, way to be less of a fucking feminist, Marceline.

So she put on one of her best “this is fine, I’m perfectly okay” which meant a tight smile plastered on her face and shoved every dark and ugly emotion she had into the deepest parts of her soul.

You could do this, you can fake being nice and perfectly okay, you’ve done this your whole life.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Abby, I’m Marceline,”

@skyslowalking​ & @beelarson 4 u darlings <3​

[whiskehorange]

Spooky Nights (2019)

A Halloween Special! Only one of the most important nights in horror, how could I not! I’m taking this into a more comedic and lighthearted way, making this as fun as possible for you! I’m sorry it’s a tad bit short, the storm here is making it a bit hard to post large posts.

Have a Happy & Spooky Halloween kiddos!

Jason

Halloween! One of his favorite nights of the year! A night where he can go out and not get a double take look from the passing strangers. Hell, in Manhattan they might even applaud him for such a “spot on costume.” however he hasn’t been out to actually walk around in... forever. He’s absolutely terrified of knocking on the doors though, standing behind you like a giant statue as you walk up to the houses. Everyone sort of looks at him like a giant, shy child. A lot of “Awww how adorable’s” and “look at how handsome he is!” They all literally think he’s an overgrown kid

Defiantly wears a comfy sweater rather than an actual costume, but everyone loves it!

Candy Rate: 1000% He’s too sweet to say no to

Michael

You must have done some real good sweet talking to him if you managed to convince him to switch out that knife for a plastic for the night. But that’s just about all you get out of him costume wise. It’s the best time for him to be out and for him to go unnoticed, maybe scouting out some dumbasses with terrible costumes, only to fuck them up later. Will totally knock on the door, but his knocks are like FBI OPEN UP

Stays in his jumpsuit and mask, masking the smell a bit only because you told him to. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll throw a sheet over him and the two of you can be ghosts. If not, you’ll both be mechanics!

Candy Rate: 100% but only because they feel a bit intimidated

Thomas Hewitt

Has never really had the chance to ever go trick or treating. He’s seen other kids come and go in their costumes but never really saw the point. Luda Mae would sometimes put up some decorations only to be stomped on and berated by Hoyt as ridiculous. But getting out and about with you is great! Seeing all of these kids running around and being happy actually... lightens him up! He’s not one to knock on the door at first, but after seeing how nice the people are, me might give a few knocks here and there

Dressed up in the one and only 2008 Corey Taylor Slipknot mask while you went as maybe Clown or Joey. His masked idols, how sweet

Candy Rate: 80% Some people just don’t like Slipknot I guess

Billy Loomis & Stu Macher

Good God do they go all out for Halloween. No costume left behind or forgotten, no candy left on the table and certainly no booze left in the cabinet. the amount of Halloween parties the three of you hit up throughout the night is crazy. Billy’s just there for the weed, you’re just there for the candy and Stu... probably booze and bragging rights. You don’t get home until 5 am but does that really matter?

The three of you are like the 3 Stooges, but in 80′s rollerskating gear. The neon short shorts, wristbands, headbands and glow bracelets and all. Stu... certainly rocks his the best

Candy Rate: 0%-100% They don’t really go trick or treating, but they might steal some from the store to make a dash out, so that’s a win... I guess

Pinhead

Pinhead is familiar with the concept but doesn’t see the point in participating. If it’s what you call “fun” then you really haven’t experienced much in the terms of “fun”. Let him ramble on about that himself, but he eventually gives in. Refuses to knock on any door for candy. Only for him to claim that they should “be aware of his presence.” Yeah okay, just knock on the door so the kids behind you don’t have to wait that long

Doesn’t find the paper halo and Dollar Store wings amusing at all, but you get him to wear it anyways. Sometimes, you might see him strut his stuff in vain

Candy Rate: 75% Some of the more Christian Households didn’t appreciate the “vulgar” blood on the costume... oops

Harry Warden

Oh jeez oh fuck do you know how long it’s been since he’s been trick or treating? Let alone OUT and about on a HOLIDAY? I mean he doesn’t have a problem with Halloween but it’s still hella nerve wracking. Physically cannot and will not knock on any door or he might actually just turn and face the other direction to avoid any eye contact whatsoever

He doesn’t know what the hell Minecraft Steve is, but he thankful you got him in the box suit. He got to have his pickaxe spray painted blue so that was a pretty epic gamer moment

Candy Rate: 110% Gamers have the ability to raise their stats when critically low for 3.5 seconds after combat

Norman Bates

Absolutely adores Halloween, now even more so that he’s got you to spend it with! Tons of kids stop by the hotel to have their fair share of Norman’s Candy Bowl. It’s filled to the brim with king sized candy bars and almost never seems to get close to emptying before he replenishes it with even more. It’s nice to put a few smiles on the young ones faces and spend the cool, crisp night with you

He’s a simple boy and doesn’t need anything too fancy, so he’ll settle for a skeleton. He’s fascinated by watching you apply make up to not only yourself, but him as well. You did amazing, sweetie

Candy Rate: 200% For all those little kids, 500% for all the leftover bags Norman impulsively bought for the two of you

The Creeper

You weren’t getting him to dress up in anything at all, no matter how much you begged for him to get in the mood. Creeper prefers the tricking part of Halloween either way, it’s more fun. Although Halloween was more fun back in the day, but he’ll deal with it now, just for you. Isn’t scared to knock on the doors either, flashing that pretty little smile of his as a demand for only the finest candy you’ve got... or else

A cowboy babey! It’s the closest you could get to dressing him up. A little belt buckle with real guns (because what’s the point if their not?), a lasso and even some spurs on his boots. He’s got that Yeehaw smile too

Candy Rate: 100% out of pure fear and intimidation. Have as much candy as you want babe

Hannibal

Trick or Treating? No my dear, you’re met with a fine Masquerade Ball and night out on the town. The going door to door is fun and all for the kids, but let the adults have their own twisted fun. Maybe you might be able to talk him into a few scary haunted mazes or houses, but Hannibal still loves his classy, ballroom fantasies and dancing with you, but only this time a bit more fun and loose with upbeat music and strobe lights

Still elegantly dressed in a suit, a Spider broach on his pocket with an equally stylish mask alongside a slim dress/suit and mask just for you!

Candy Rate: 50%? There will be treats at the party but... they’re more cooked and decorated pastries? They get half credit, but taste great!

[softyoongiionly]

La Grande Maison: A Mystery in Three Acts 🎠

The rooftop is your safe haven. It’s your escape from the woes of the world below and, you and your best friends take every opportunity you can to visit this special place. It’s here that time slows down, that all your problems seem to fade away...

But when one of you goes missing, not even the rooftop can save you from the nightmare that has yet to unfold. 

Pairing: Jimin x Reader (but also this one is mainly about good ol fashion friendship)

Genre: Mystery/Thriller

Word Count: 25k 

Warnings (please read me!!!): angst (like seriously chief this one is ROUGH), alcohol use (not excessive), drug use (not excessive), violence, mentions of murder/crime/kidnapping, swearing (excessive), mentions of death, character death (not major), SMUT (18+ only please). 

A/N: hello yes. It is me. This one is ALOT my friends. Like holy freaking heck. I am honestly so incredibly excited for you to read this and, I can’t wait to see what you think of it. It’s my actual baby and, I’m kind of nervous cause, I’ve never written a fic like this before so, I really really really hope you like it. If you do, please let me know, feedback means everything to me. 

Please Note: Bolded text indicates when characters are speaking Korean

Regarding Taehyung’s French scenes (yes our boy is fluent in french in this fic), I did my best. My french isn’t perfect so, if there are mistakes I am super sorry. 

Please please please let me know if you liked it!

I love you all so much, please enjoy.

Act I- Sur La Grande Maison

The rooftop is a place you often end up.  

It’s a little cliché, you think: a bunch of misfits corralled onto a dodgy high-rise building in the middle of the city, cigarette smoke wafting in the air.  

But you and your friends aren’t delinquents.  

The worst any of you has ever done is get a speeding ticket and that only happened because, one of you had dared Hoseok to go over 100 miles an hour on the highway: Hoseok never turns down a dare.  

But no, the rooftop is a quiet place despite the shady motel it rests upon and, it’s a place you and your group of friends cherish for different reasons  

Jin likes it because; he can spot new street food vendors from the massive height of the building. He’s made all of you try some interesting shit but, most of the time, it’s delicious.  

Namjoon has perfect view of the river and, sometimes he separates from the seven of you to write poetry while gazing down at it.  

Yoongi doesn’t always join you but, he finds himself dragging himself out of the house to listen to the underground rappers that perform in the club next door.  

He thinks he can do better.  

He’s probably right.  

The rooftop gives Hoseok the space to dance; he doesn’t have it downstairs in the room he rents and, he can’t afford a practice room. So, he brings out his old speakers and amuses the rest of you while he moves fluidly around the concrete.  

Taehyung loves to paint the skyline and, the roof allows him a view that he can’t get anywhere else. He’s painted it a hundred times but, he hasn’t used every color; not yet at least.  

Jungkook brings his dads old polaroid up every time you guys meet. He takes unflattering pictures of all of you and, you know it’s just for fun but, what you don’t know is that he’s made a collage on his wall of all of them and, he smiles at them each morning as he heads to work.  

And Jimin well…  

Jimin has a lot of reasons why he loves the rooftop:  

His friends of course; he can’t imagine his life without all of the late nights/early mornings he’s spent huddled up with his best friends, laughing so hard he can’t see straight.    

The view is amazing, it makes Jimin feel like he lives in a penthouse despite him working three minimum wage jobs just to keep a shitty roof over his head.  

But all of those things pale in comparison to his favorite thing about the rooftop: you.  

You’ve been friends since high school but eight months ago, he started realizing that the little crush he had is actually full-blown LOVE and, that he should probably tell you soon before he loses his shit.  

Luckily for him, you reciprocated.  

It wasn’t easy at first, Jimin’s a jealous man and, he let his trust issues get in the way but, after a few stupid fights, he decided he needed to grow up and knock it off.  

The rooftop saw it all, the fights, the making up, the making out and, one night when everyone fell asleep, Jimin made you cum three times underneath the blanket the two of you were sharing.  

It’s a little filthy he knows but, he gets kind of primal around you, he wants everyone to know you’re his.  

But he knows when it’s appropriate to do so and, he’d never try to control you.  

Unless you two were in bed together then, there are times when you give him that control.  

He always brings you down nicely though, he always kisses your forehead...  

You think you might fall in love with him a little more each time.  

“Y/N?”  

A voice brings you out of your thoughts and, you look up across the makeshift bonfire to see Hoseok smirking knowingly at you.  

“There’s an old mattress over by the chimney if you and Jimin need to relieve yourselves...”  

There is a small echo of laughter that moves through the group and, you cock your head in confusion, “What are you talking about?  

Jimin throws a cigarette butt at him, wrapping an arm around you, “Fuck off. She doesn’t realize she does it...” You feel him tuck a bit of hair behind your ear, smiling fondly at you, “Don’t worry about him, he’s just mad he doesn’t have a girl looking at him like that.”  

You turn towards the rest of your friends, “Wait what do you mean? What did I do?”  

With chaos in his eyes, Jin takes the cigarette Namjoon passes to him before nodding to you, “You were eye fucking your boyfriend.”  

“Shut uuuup.” You answer immediately, burying your face in Jimin’s neck which prompts a pleased round of laughter to move past his lips.  

You didn’t realize you were doing it but, you don’t protest his observation.  

It’s been nearly a month since you’ve had a night off, meaning you’ve gone without your boyfriend’s touch for way too long.  

He tugs you closer to him and presses a kiss to your head whilst everyone else laughs at your expense.  

As the night breeze rushes in to move between the eight of you, Jimin holds you even tighter, tugging the old knitted blanket around your body.  

“Give her a break, she’s been without dick for a long time...it’s been like a month since we met up.” Taehyung interjects, taking a drag of the cigarette before passing it to Jungkook.  

Cigarettes are nearly $10 a pack, so they share one at a time and, pitch in when the supply runs low.  

You don’t smoke but five of them do and, you’re kind of thankful your boyfriend isn’t one of them.  

“So? Do you guys not meet up in between? Y/N has a studio, plenty of privacy...” Jin waves his hand between the two of you, judgement in his eyes.  

Jimin tenses up beside you, not really enjoying the way the conversation has shifted, “We both work 3 jobs hyung, you know that.”  

“You’re right. Sex is probably quite straining for you...” Jin smirks, enjoying the annoyance in Jimin’s eyes.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jimin’s eyes are narrowed and, you are quickly coming up with a plan to distract your boyfriend from Jin’s teasing.  

His not exactly a good candidate for roasting; he’s far too sensitive for that.  

“You know cause it’s...” Jin positions his fingers in such a way that suggests that Jimin has a small dick  

“Jin-” Namjoon groans in warning but, Jungkook and Hoseok have already started snickering.  

You expect your boyfriend to pop off, guns a blazing, eyes alight with offence but, instead he just smirks.  

Letting his hand curve around the ball of your knee, he says something that nullifies Jin’s insult,  

“You don’t have to have a big dick to be good in bed hyung...”  

Jin isn’t phased and he raises his eyebrows as he holds the cigarette to his lips, “That’s something people with small dicks say.”  

Hoseok and Jungkook snicker again, enjoying the drama and Taehyung grins from behind his phone, shaking his head.  

Jimin’s smirk widens as his hand continues to trail up your thigh, “Do you think I’m bad in bed?”  

His question is spoken into your ear and, his breath against your skin causes a shiver to run through you.  

“No.” You giggle, leaning into him and, he’s quick to tighten his grip on you, his lips quickly finding the side of your head.  

“Now, Y/N...every good relationship is built on trust. You two will never last if you continue to lie.” Jin’s laughter escalates to a full-blown windshield wiper volume and, surprisingly enough, it’s Yoongi who shuts him down  

“Your fiancé made you sleep on the couch with me the other night because, you were too drunk to get it up so,” Yoongi tilts his head as if he’s wagering two options, “you're not really in the position to be talking shit.”  

Everyone’s face turns up in surprise as Yoongi, or Mouse, as they like to call him, puts Jin on blast without even looking up from his phone.  

“Mouse just ended your whole life bro.” Hoseok cackles, throwing back a bit of vodka as Jungkook leans into him with the weight of his laughter.  

Jin waves him off like the unbothered king he is and, gestures to the vodka bottle in Hoseok’s hands, “Mouse’s have tiny dicks too so, he’s just jealous.”  

Namjoon literally cringes in his seat, looking at Jin with incredulity, “Mice not mouse’s...”  

Taehyung laughs at that, leaning forward a bit to warm his hands around the fire. He looks exhausted but, then again, so do the rest of you.  

But it speaks volumes doesn’t it?  

That you’re all hear together, on your only days off, soaking up every bit of time you have.  

Roasting aside, anyone can see that there is nothing but love between the eight of you.  

If you had it your way, you’d spend every night up here.  

Jimin reminds you with his lips, just how long it’s been as he places a few kisses against your cheek, “Come play with me.”  

You giggle, turning in his grip to meet his grinning face, “You sound like the twins from The Shining...”  

Jimin’s eyes wrinkle with his laughter but, he’s quick to place a searing kiss to your lips along with another sinful phrase, “Please? I haven’t seen you naked in a month.”  

You shake your head, tucking hand behind his neck to pull him closer to you, “I’ve sent you nudes...”  

Jimin’s quick to kiss you again but, his lips pout further and, you notice the scent of after shave lingering around his face.  

That shouldn’t turn you on but, for whatever reason, it does.  

“Yes you did and, trust me when I say, I put them to good use-” He kisses you again, nudging your nose as he does, “but I want the real thing.”  

“Let’s go then.” You whisper against his lips  

He kisses you once more before, getting Hoseok’s attention, “Yah, I need your key.”  

Hoseok lives on the 8th floor of the motel you’re currently loitering on and, his room is a place you and Jimin often end up during nights like these.  

Most people would be weirded out by it but, for you guys, it’s normal.  

You don’t bat your eyes at the seedier sides of life, you’ve all lived through it in some way.  

Hoseok just smirks, reaching into the pocket of his jeans, “Stay off my bed unless you plan on inviting me this time.”  

Jimin just flips him off, grinning fondly at him before taking your hand and, tugging you towards the door.  

“Don’t be too long, we wanna play poker!” Jungkook calls after the two of you and, although Jimin has a mission in mind, he responds anyway.  

“With what money?”  

“We’re playing for bragging rights obviously, that shit means more to you heathens than actual money.” Namjoon smirks, taking a swig of the vodka before passing it to Yoongi.  

“That doesn’t apply to me; I would sell all of you for an even $500.” Yoongi remarks, taking a big gulp and, bearing his teeth as it burns his throat.  

The rest of you just laugh but, before you can add your two sense, Jimin is tugging you behind the door.  

He has you pressed up against it immediately, his hands finding your waist whilst his plush lips kiss you with everything he’s got.  

You’re quick to reciprocate as your hands slide around the curve of his neck. Delicately, your fingers tangle into the hair at the nape of his neck and, it spurs Jimin on even more as he groans into your mouth.  

“Christ, what are you doing to me?” He laments against your mouth, causing laughter to bubble past your lips, “It’s not funny...” He laments but, he’s grinning as he does, walking you backwards towards the elevator, “I’ve only been kissing you for ten seconds and, I’m already so hard.”  

You tug him through the elevator doors the collar of his t-shirt all while trying to keep your lips connected, “Should I only expect you to last for ten seconds too?”  

Jimin grunts in protest, his brows furrowing cutely as he shakes his head, “Don’t make fun of me, I missed you...” He whines playfully, smirking when you hitch a leg around his waist.  

“I missed you too.” You breath and, you always marvel at young Jimin can make you feel.  

You’re fully grown, sexually active adults and, yet here you grinding into one another like a bunch of hormonal rookies. The denim of his jeans pressing against the soft cotton of your panties hits you right in the pit of your stomach and, you’re honestly a little shocked by how wet you are.  

Jimin slides the key card through Hoseok’s door several times before it finally works.  

This motel is not a featured business on Yelp.  

“Fucking door- ugh Jesus I don’t know how he gets this open when he’s hammered.” Jimin laughs, pulling you close to him as soon as he shoves Hoseok’s door shut.  

“I have found him sleeping in the hallway before.” You point out but, the importance of your reply dies on your tongue when Jimin steps back to pull his shirt off.  

You don’t hide your reaction either, letting your eyes wander over the masterpiece that is Jimin’s body.  

He’s slightly tan from his days working at the pool, his sinewy muscles protruding tastefully against his smooth skin; it’s enough to make you drool.  

But to center yourself, you comment on something tangible before you literally start begging for him,  

“Your tattoo is healing nicely.” You nod your head to the black ink scrawled across Jimin’s ribs  

The word ‘nevermind’ has never looked so good on someone's skin before.  

He just smirks, “Yeah, it’s still a little sore though.”  

“Oh?” With a tilt of your head, you let your eyes scan over it again, “Should I kiss it better?”  

Your question doesn’t get answered because the next thing you know, Jimin has you on the couch, sat astride on his lap with your shirt half way up your torso.  

“I want you naked- I don’t give a fuck if they’re waiting on us...”  

All you can manage is a nod and, Jimin quickly tugs your shirt over your head.  

He connects his lips to the crook of your neck, sighing into your skin as if the taste alone soothes him.  

“You missed me too right?” He mumbles causing you to gently tug on the black tendrils of his hair so he’ll face you.  

“Of course.” You peck his lips once before pushing him back against the arm of the couch, “See?”  

Jimin nearly busts right there when you lean back to pull your skirt up, exposing the dampened material of your panties.  

Your boyfriend has a panty fetish that nearly warrants concern. For months, he would beg you to leave your panties with him after the two of you had sex until finally; you were down to your last 8 pair.  

He bought you more of course but, that didn’t stop him from begging all over again.  

“Fuck these are my favorite...” He winces at the sight, letting out a shaky breath before his darkening irises find yours again, “Leave them on.”  

You smirk, letting your skirt down and, pecking at his lips once again, “I thought you wanted me naked.”  

He bites down on your bottom lip, pulling it for a moment and, letting it snap back in place,  

“I changed my mind. I wanna cum all over these pretty little panties you’re wearing instead...”  

Jimin makes good on his promise.  

Sex with Jimin is something else.  

The pleasure he brings you is so intense it’s almost painful.  

It’s almost painful because, you hardly see each other and, if you had it your way, you’d be in his lap all the time.  

But, life doesn’t work that way.  

So, you take what you can get.  

He makes you cum twice on his dick, with his thumb pressed firmly against your clit.  

He whispers dirty secrets in your ear and, somehow manages to make you feel both filthy and beautiful all at once.  

Prodding another weakness of his, hickies, you help him reach his own release and, within 10 minutes he’s attaining the orgasm he’s been craving so desperately.  

“Fuck, I missed you so much...” He croons into your neck, nuzzling his nose there for a moment as you run your fingers through his hair.  

“I missed you too.” You smile, kissing the shell of his ear  

The two of you stay like that for a moment, kissing on one another, relishing in your reunion.  

When the time is right, the two of you will share a place one day but, for now, you have to continue working hard and saving money for the things your future.  

And speaking of making money...  

Your phone buzzes in the pocket of your skirt and, you sadly drag your attention away from your boyfriend to see a text from your boss at the nursing home  

Xander: Christian called out tonight :/  

Xander: you want to work a double?

Night shifts pay time and a half and, it would be another 8 hours on this next paycheck...  

It’s like a punch to the chest really.  

Because, you have to leave.  

One your one night off in nearly a month.  

You feel like crying but, you know that’s ridiculous.  

Jimin’s face falls as he sees the text on your phone but, he knows that his disappointment will only make you feel guilty and, he really doesn’t want that.  

So instead, he curls a finger underneath your chin and, kisses you with a tenderness that he doesn’t often display.  

Not that he isn’t sweet with you, it’s just that his lips are sinful and, normally they are working you into a frenzy.  

The time you two have together is so limited that everything always feels so rushed but, in this moment, he takes the time to kiss you slowly.  

And as he brushes a thumb across your cheek, he makes a promise to you, “I promise, we’ll get our break someday and, when that day comes, I’ll be kissing this pretty mouth of yours every chance I get...”  

You smile, leaning into his hand, “I’ll make you breakfast every morning…and we can decorate together our place together and-“

Jimin interrupts your fantasy with a kiss, grinning fondly into your lips, “Anything you want.”

You wrap your arms around him once more, tucking your face into his neck, wishing desperately that you can stay here with him all night…

“I love you.” You whisper into his skin  

“I love you too.” He replies, kissing the side of your head

Jimin walks you downstairs to the exit of the motel and, he tries his best to swallow his disappointment.

Your car is in the shop so; you’ll catch the bus right up the street and, try to remind yourself why you’re working so hard.

With a tight and lingering embrace, Jimin says his goodbyes to you, pecking your lips a dozen more times.

“Text me when you get home tonight…” He requests with a soft voice and, you nod, kissing him once more before stepping outside.  

Jimin leans against the stained glass, watching you with love in his eyes as you turn to wave frantically at him.

It brings a giggle to his lips as he waves back, feeling an ache in his heart as you disappear into the crowd of people.

Jimin knows he’s never loved another person the way he loves you.

He knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

But what Jimin didn’t know is that the agony of watching you leave after only a short time with him is nothing compared to the pain he has yet to endure.

Because tonight is no ordinary night.

Tonight, is the night you go missing.

Kosei Police Station, Thursday 6:24am

It’s been 54 hours since your friends heard from you.

Xander called Jimin, your emergency contact, when you didn’t show up for your shift Monday night.

The group promptly blew up your cell phone, trying any means necessary to reach you.

When there was no reply, they showed up to your apartment and much to their horror, the property manager has no recollection of you returning home.  

“How long has she been missing?”

Jimin wants to scream at the uninterested clerk behind the desk.

He wants to scream in general.

The police station should be in full chaos at the news of your absence.

They should be on the phone with every available resource, repeating your name and details over and over.

But it’s not.

It’s eerily calm and, he doesn’t understand why.

“The last time I saw her was on Monday. She was supposed to work that night but, her manager said she never showed up.”  

Jimin doesn’t recognize his own voice.

He feels like he’s outside of his body.

“Mhm…” The man drone behind the glass, casually typing a few things into the computer, “And what was her name again?”

Jimin’s blood boils over and, thank god for Namjoon because, he immediately intervenes.

“Y/N Y/L/N. She’s __ years old, she has __ hair, __ eyes and, she was last seen at the Paybrook Motel, Monday night. This isn’t like her to disappear. What is your protocol for these kinds of things?”  

The man enters the information before shrugging at Namjoon’s question, “Uh we’ll send a squad car out to do some ground work but, uh honestly most cases like these are resolved pretty quickly, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

Taehyung arches a brow, leaning in towards the bulletproof glass, “You wouldn’t- you wouldn’t worry too much about it? Our best friend is missing…”

The man nods immediately, as if he’s amending his mistake, “Of course, I just mean- she’ll probably turn up you know, most people do.”

Jimin’s eyes are stinging, he’s trying his best to keep it together but, the fluorescent lights are blinding him, the stale scent of old coffee makes him want to vomit, he feels like he’s losing his mind.

“Y/N isn’t most people…” Jimin spits, his eyes honing in on the man, “She wouldn’t just vanish like this, something must have happened to her, this is an emergency. Why aren’t you sending someone out right now?”  

“Sir, this is the inner city, no offense but, people like her disappear all the time…”

Jimin’s eyes narrow, “People like her? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Jimin.” Yoongi murmurs, wrapping an arm around him and urges him away from the desk before things get out of hand.

Surprisingly, Jimin follows but, not without sending a warning glare towards the clerk.

Long story short; the police are no help.

They don’t understand the gravity of the situation.

They don’t seem to grasp the pain the seven of your friends are feeling.

Even if they did, it doesn’t appear that they would care either way.

But the thing is, your friends are used to this.

They are used to being let down by the people who they’re supposed to trust.

Their hardships cultivated a unique ability within them each of them.

And that ability was to fend for themselves.

So a plan is made to spread out and search for you on their own.  

With heavy hearts and fire running through their veins, Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and, Jungkook leave their responsibilities behind to search for their best friend.

Act II- Sous La Grande Maison

Jimin- Chillzzz Ice Cream Parlor, Black Swan Brewery and Pub, Cozy Acres Retirement Home  

Thursday 7:38pm-10:01pm

Jimin spent most of the day retracing your steps like a mad man. He went back to the motel and, walked along the path you would have taken to the bus stop, he showed your photo to every person who would give him the time of day. He spoke with subway drivers, businessmen in suits, homeless people but, no one spoke up, most of them wouldn’t even look at him…

He cried beneath the awning of the motel, not even noticing the judgmental looks that were thrown his way.

For good measure, he calls you and texts you another 50 times as he tries to swallow the acidic taste of fear crawling up his throat.

Where the fuck were you?

He visits your boss at the ice cream store but, she says she hasn’t seen you since your shift Monday morning.

He makes his way to the dive bar you wait tables at but, they have the same story except they haven’t seen you since Sunday night.

Everyone at both locations says the same thing though…

“It’s so unlike her you know? To just disappear.”

“I really hope nothing happened to her.”

“Whatever you need, just let us know.”

Jimin feels like he wants to pass out.

He feels like he’s been dropped in the dead center of a nightmare.

But, he knows he has to act quickly

The city has a habit of swallowing people whole and, he’ll be damned if his girlfriend falls victim to its clutches.

He makes a final stop at the retirement home you work in to speak with Xander.

Xander shows his concern for you in a big way; it makes Jimin slightly uneasy.

“Oh my god what are we gonna do? The police aren’t on it? How are they not taking this seriously?

“Jimin, we have to find her man, I would be devastated if something happened to her.”

“She’s my best employee, she’s absolutely precious…”

Jimin has half a mind to tell him to ‘shut the fuck up’

This is his girlfriend.

His everything.

Not Xander’s.

But Jimin knows he’s sensitive right now and, Xander’s behavior is a nice change of pace.

At least he gives a shit.

With all of his leads coming up dry, he decides to visit the one person who just might be able to help.

Someone who always assured him that they would be there should he need absolutely anything.

Someone who just might have the means to operate above the incompetence of the police department.

“Come here.” Lady’s voice is tender and, reassuring as she quickly pulls Jimin into her chest.

He collapses into her arms, an abrupt sob leaving his lips as he clutches the satin of her blouse.

Lady is a special person.

Jimin started working as her pool boy just over a year ago and, she quickly welcomed him into her life.  

She was becoming the mother Jimin never had and, in this moment, in the wake of his misery, he needs her more than ever.

“I don’t understand-“ He cries into her neck, her perfume is far too strong for his liking but, he remains close to her anyway, “Where is she? She never does this, she always gets back to us I- fuck…what if something happened to her? What if someone ki- ki…oh my god.” He wants to throw up, he can’t even get the word to pass his lips because, the thought of you being harmed literally sickens him.

“Shhh shhh shh, honey it’s ok, just breathe for me alright? Just breathe…” She coos, rubbing his back gently, her face tight with sadness, “I already have my guys working on it. They got started this morning once the news broke. I’ll put flyers up at the country club as well; everyone I have at my disposal is out there looking for her alright?”

Jimin just nods, he isn’t able to say much through his tears but, her words do calm him slightly.

Lady has resources that Jimin doesn’t have and, for the first time, he is going to accept her help.

She’s offered to assist him many times in a myriad of different ways:

Rent money, tuition assistance, money for textbooks, a new car…

But Jimin’s turned them down all the same; he never wants to feel like he owes someone for something.

He accepts the free food and, the occasional fancy clothes she gifts from her deceased husbands closet and, if anyone thinks of judging him for strutting around in dead guy clothes, Jimin would promptly remind them that he is wearing Gucci and, they are not.

This time though, Jimin doesn’t protest; he will take all the help he can get from anywhere he can get it…

“Let's get you a cup of tea or something, c’mon...”  

Lady ushers Jimin to the rich color of her lignum vitae dining table and, she even ensures she pulls out a chair for him to rest easy on.  

Jimin practically slumps into it, his body helpless.

Lady already had a pot ready for him and, although Jimin tries to act like he doesn’t enjoy it, she knows Lavender is his favorite...

“The police have her vehicle information in their news report, I’ll have my guys searching for her civic in no time.” She murmurs, pouring his tea and, eyeing him carefully.

Jimin winces, watching the steam rise from his cup, trying to hold onto reality, “Her car is still in the shop.”  

“That’s right my goodness,” Lady puts a hand to her chest, shaking her head,  “Do you think the person who cut her cables had something to do with this?”  

His heart sinks but, he hesitates a moment before responding, dread filling his chest once again, “I- I don’t know maybe? It’s not impossible. It’s been in the shop for the last two months though, it wouldn’t make sense for them to wait so long. Oh god, unless they have been watching her? Do you really thinks that’s possible?”  

She brings him into her arms again, the pads of her fingers rubbing gently against his lower back, “There are sick people in this world Jimin. But I promise you honey, we are going to do everything we can to bring her home.”  

Jimin leaves Lady’s house with a slightly better outlook.

Slightly

You are still missing of course but, at least he has someone powerful on his side.

Lady is an incredible person and, without her, Jimin thinks he might lose his mind.

Jin- The Night Market, Friday 8:22pm  

You all like the rooftop for different reasons, Jin likes it for the landscape of the night market: The neon lights illuminating the different food carts, the bustling movement of all of the patrons eager to try the next deep fried delicacy. As he walks along the wet cement, he smiles to himself, remembering all the times he used to drag the seven of you down here. He always saved his tips from the restaurant, and once a month, he would splurge, buying everything in sight. The complaints would soon cease as he shoved fried cheese in your faces, the desire to eat like royalty overcoming the group. And you would, you’d eat until you couldn’t walk anymore and, Jin would feel warmth blooming in his chest as he watched all of his friends, whom were more like family, eating well. He’s the oldest, he would think, it was his job to watch over the people he loves. It’s in this moment, as he’s reminiscing that he feels despair tear through his heart.  

He had failed.  

Because, one of you were gone.  

One of you weren’t safely tucked under his mother-goose gaze.  

Your smile comes through his subconscious then and, it feels like a thousand tiny needles scurrying up his cheeks to prick at his eyes.  

You always laughed at his puns, no matter how stupid they were

You always tried whatever food he put in front of you, no matter how strange or spicy it was, you’d humor him.  

With a heavy hand, he wipes the tears from his eyes before they can spill over.  

He doesn’t have time for pain right now.  

Because, tonight he’s at the market for different reasons.  

Tonight, he was here to investigate.  

The Night Market vendors are an interesting crowd, most of them were older, just trying to make ends meet by selling their creations but, there were a few newcomers that Jin’s noticed over the years.  

They were lured in by the neon, the paper lanterns, the money…  

They didn’t understand the culture of this place and, Jin resented them for it.  

“Yah! You’re the money man yeah? Are you buying me out tonight? Where are your friends?”  

Jin is forced out of his inner thoughts and, he meets the eyes of an older gentleman who owns the Mandu stand; one of his favorites.  

“I’m not here for much tonight, my friends are busy but,” He selfishly scans the selection of dumplings, plump and ripe for the taking. He points to a pork and vegetable one to the right of the case, “I’ll take one of the pork ones for the road. Is it ok if I ask you a few questions?”  

The man wrinkles his brow in confusion, “Me? I guess so, what can I do for you?”  

With a deep sigh, Jin pulls out his phone, with a photo of you as his home screen. He swallows back the bit of misery in his throat as he sees your face, before showing it to the vendor, “This is my friend. She went missing three days ago and, she was last seen up on that rooftop over there, “ He gestures to the motel, “She left alone and, she would have walked right past here on her way home. Did you see her at all?”  

As he pushes his glasses up his nose, the man squints at the photo, trying to make sense of it. After a moment, he shakes his head.  

“Sorry. I haven’t seen her.” His eyes flit over the image again, a bit of darkness lingering in his eyes, “Pretty little thing though…”  

Jin immediately rips his phone from the man’s view, disgusted at his comment but, he doesn’t want to make a scene and risk his line of information being cut off.  

“Thanks. If you remember anything let me know. I’ll be around for a bit.”  

He grunts in response, his interest waning as another customer walks up to his stand.  

Jin feels an immense amount of frustration; why the fuck does this man think its ok to gawk at you despite what he’s just told him?  

Does he have no heart?  

Raking his hand through his hair, Jin takes a deep breath. He doesn’t have time for his emotions right now, he needs to push forward.  

He moves throughout the stands, showing your picture to every familiar face that will give him the time of day.  

The chorus of no’s that echo back at him, slowing chip away at his resolve and, he feels himself growing desperate as he nears the end of the market.  

He hates how suspicious he feels.  

He hates that this place, which is home to so many happy memories, is now shrouded with a kind of darkness that he’s only ever read about in books.  

He feels sick with the thought of coming back without you; he doesn’t think he ever would.  

There is a few stands left, which Jin moves through without success before he finally reaches the Tteokbokki stand.  

It’s his favorite and, normally he’d be shoveling an entire tray of it into his mouth.  

But tonight, the smell of the sauce makes his stomach turn.  

“Excuse me, have you-“ Jin begins wearily but, he’s quickly cut off by the man beneath the umbrella.  

“You’re here about the missing girl right?”  

The man’s brow rises but, it does nothing to smooth out the valleys of wrinkles between his eyes.  

“I am…” Jin crosses his arms, reluctant to continue the conversation as the man smirks salaciously in his direction, “How did you know?”  

His smirk grows when he holds up a yellow walkie-talkie, “Word travels fast. I’m guessing you’re here to ask me if I’ve seen her and, I would tell you that I have but, unless you have something to offer me. I’m afraid that’s all I plan on telling you.”  

Jin’s face immediately flushes red. Anger floats up beneath the surface of his surprise but, he knows that if he reacts in the way he that wants to, the man will shut down.  

“What do you want?” He mutters through the tension in his jaw.  

The man’s gaze travels over Jin’s figure before settling on the pocket of his jeans, “Buy me out for the night and, I’ll tell you what I saw...”  

A quick scan of his cart shows Jin roughly 3 dozen trays of Tteokbokki. Even if he had an appetite, he doesn’t have the stomach or the means to consume that much food, nor does he have a way to get it back to his apartment.  

“How much is your cart worth?”  

The man tilts his head, squinting his eyes in thought, “Well, its 3 for a tray and there’s 47 on the cart…you do the math.”  

Jin finally does send a glare towards the man; enraged that he’s capitalizing off of his grief but, he types in the calculations none the less.  

“$141…” He concludes, showing him the number on his cell phone, “I don’t have that much.”  

With a shrug, the man gives Jin a look of faux disappointment, “That’s a shame, I guess my memory is a little hazy then. Maybe I saw her, maybe I didn’t-  have a good night.”  

“Wait- please I…” Jin takes a deep breath, pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket, “I only have $100 right now but, I can get more. I work at the sushi restaurant up the street, I’ll bring you all of my tips for the next week.”  

The man eyes him suspiciously, mulling over his offer, “The next two weeks…”  

Jin’s never been so angry in his life and, part of him wants to flip over his cart and, leave him to clean up the mess but, he knows he has to bargain with him.  

He has no other choice.  

“Fine.” He throws the money onto the counter with a stern look, “Keep the food, just tell me what you know.”  

The man takes his time, counting the money greedily, smirking with satisfaction as he tucks it into his shirt pocket.  

“I saw your friend leaving that motel you always hang out at. The one across the street-“ He nods to the ratty building, “She left and walked along the road for some time before a man approached her.”  

Jin’s heart picks up, “A man? What man? What did he look like?”  

“I didn’t get a close look. He was tall and dressed in some fancy ass suit. They walked together all the way up the road until I couldn’t see them anymore. She didn’t look uncomfortable; in fact…it kind of looked like she knew him.”  

As the man tells his story, Jin writes all of the details down in his phone but, the last bit confuses him.  

He didn’t know you knew anyone that owned a suit.  

Suits are a luxury that neither he nor any of the other guys can afford.  

So who were you with then?  

“That’s all? Anything else you remember?”  

The man shakes his head, “That’s all I got for you. Thanks for the cash, I look forward to seeing you again with the rest of it.”  

A chorus of snickering comes with his last comment and, Jin finally decides he’s had enough of him.  

With a roll of his eyes, he walks away, leaving the hustle and bustle of the night market to slowly fade behind him as he makes his way up the street.  

He begins typing a message to the group chat, informing everyone of what he found.  

He sees your icon at the top of his screen whilst he does and, it triggers the tears collecting in his eyes to finally spill over.  

Namjoon- The Marquee River, Friday 9:54pm  

Namjoon loves the rooftop for the view of the river. He loves the way the sun and moon expertly change the color of its surface from a crystal blue in the daytime to an inky black in the evening. He loves the way people congregate around it. It’s such a stark contradiction to the city. Everyone always looks so happy and so patient with one another. Families are sprawled out on picnic blankets, friends are laughing and sharing homemade dishes, lovers walk along the river holding hands…  

It’s a magical place.  

Well, at least Namjoon thinks so.  

The boys tease him for it, they call him Namstradamus and, say he concerns himself with hypothetical situations far too often.  

But you get it though.  

You’ve sat with Namjoon on many nights while he smokes a cigarette, watching the interactions with the same fondness he does.  

You laughed as he did little voices for the people he saw and, listened eagerly as he created stories for each of them.  

You told him he should be a writer and Namjoon felt a satisfaction that his imagination could entertain you.  

Deep down, being a writer is something he’s always dreamed of.  

He wishes he was on the rooftop with you now, laughing and bullshitting.  

He wishes he could see your smile when Jimin shouts a raunchy compliment your way and, makes a comment about how Namjoon is trying to steal you from him.  

Its all for fun though.  

Namjoon doesn’t love you like that but, the way he loves you makes tonight’s task so much harder.  

He loves you like a sister and, his sister is gone.  

Vanished.  

And he has to figure out why.  

Namjoon is wearing his father’s coat; it’s the only thing warm enough for this weather he tells himself but, really he wears it because it’s the nicest thing in his home.  

It makes him feel capable, even though he’s never felt more inadequate in his life.  

There isn’t many people left at the river tonight, the cold weather is keeping everyone inside along with the news of your disappearance.  

Namjoon has someone in mind though.  

Someone who is always here: the groundskeeper.  

Namjoon notices him emerge as people begin packing up their things but, he doesn’t approach him just yet.  

He stands back and observes his behavior, carefully planning what he needs to say.  

But, Namjoon doesn’t get much time as the groundskeeper has noticed him too.  

“What is it you seek madam? I can do anything…anything you wish.”  

The voice of the groundskeeper is ominous; it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention but, his words confuse him even more.  

“Uh excuse me, I’m really sorry to bother you but, I was wondering if you’ve seen my friend. She went missing a few nights ago, I have her picture here…” Namjoon goes to pull out his phone but, the man stops him with a laugh.  

It’s not a pleasant sound, it’s crazed and dismissive, it doesn’t mirror the laughter he normally hears from the river.  

It makes his stomach turn.  

“I know what the princess looks like madam, I’ve seen her looking down at me many times.” The moonlight shines upon his face then and, it’s enough for Namjoon to make out his features.  

He looks filthy, skin alight with grease, hair matted with the same substance, his eyes are blue and unfocused. A giant scar interrupts his features and, Namjoon does his best to remain composed despite his appearance.  

“So have you seen her? She would have walked right passed here on her way home.” He flashes the picture towards him anyway but, it only prompts another ridiculous laugh from him and, Namjoon feels himself growing irritated.  

“Yep! That’s the one! The princess marked for slaughter, oh but she runs from her fate doesn’t she? She runs and runs and runs runs…..she runs a lot. It’s no use madam, you’ll always catch her in the end.”  

As he hears the word slaughter, Namjoon feel his blood boil over and, he quickly grabs the snickering man by his shirt, “What the fuck are you talking about?”  

The man falters with a gasp but, his laughter continues, his breath fowl and unkempt, “She is gone forever. Left to destiny…left to rot…”  

Namjoon feels his heart jump in his chest and he tugs at the man’s shirt again, harder this time, “What do you mean gone? Did you do something to her? If you touched her, I swear I’ll fucking kill you, my friends and I will tear you apart!”  

Tears don’t aid in Namjoon’s attempt to look tough but, he can’t help himself.  

His grief is unbearable and, all this man can do is laugh…  

“I have nothing for you madam…what’s done is done.” He seethes, bearing his grimy teeth as he smiles  

“Why do you keep calling me madam? You know who I am, you’ve seen my friends before. What the fuck is wrong with you?”  

The man responds by placing a dirty hand against Namjoon’s cheek, leaning in towards his ear, “You are…a work of art madam, it was a pleasure to serve you…”  

With this, the man shoves away from Namjoon’s hold and rushes back to the trashcan, muttering to himself all the while.  

Namjoon feels unsafe around him, especially as he notices how empty the river has become so, he decides to get out of there.  

He wipes his tears as he moves through the trees back towards the noise of the street.  

There is nothing but utter anguish inside of him now.  

One of his best friends is missing and, his only lead is a raging lunatic.  

He sends his findings to the group chat anyway, praying that someone has more information than he does, praying that this nightmare will come to an end. 

 Yoongi- Ginseng Night Club, Saturday 12:04am,  

Yoongi hates clubs. There’s too many people, they’re too loud, everyone is drunk and stupid. He doesn’t really see the point in them. However, Ginseng has a vibe he can appreciate. It’s a little more laid back, a little less expensive and, it’s major upside is its showcase of underground rappers. Yoongi’s never had the courage to get up on stage but, he likes to listen from the rooftop. He judges the contestants from a far because, let’s face it, most of them are trash but, he enjoys their enthusiasm. Some of them are actually pretty good though and, a lot of times Yoongi has to swallow the avarice he feels when he hears them. He can rap too but, the only people who know about it are his friends.  

They tell him he’s good enough to make it big but, Yoongi never believes them.  

He misses freestyling on the rooftop though and, tonight he’s missing your reactions in particular.  

You were always pushing him to perform and one day, drunkenly, you had managed to convince him to promise you that he’d perform at Ginseng on his 26th birthday.  

That date is steadily approaching and, although he was terrified of keeping that promise, he desperately wishes that were the reason he was pushing through the crowd at Ginseng right now.  

But it isn’t…  

Tonight, he’s here to deal with bleaker matter: your disappearance.  

Ginseng is cheaper for a reason and, that reason happens to be the crowd.  

It’s known for its cast of shady characters: drug dealers, con artists, underground fighters, etc.  

He thinks it’s a little pointless, walking into a room full of potential criminals, hoping one of them has the heart to spill any information regarding his missing friend but, he had to try.  

Yoongi decided on all black for the evening; it makes him feel bigger and, prepares him for the onslaught of human interaction he’s dreading.  

Immediately, his chest is met with the hammering base from the speakers, whilst his nose is met with the stench of cheap liquor and, all eyes are on him.  

He’s an unfamiliar face in a club that profits off of regular attendees but, he swallows his anxiety and, soldiers on, heading straight for the bar at the back of the club.  

“What can I get for you?” A short haired woman barks over the music,  sending a mild glare Yoongi’s way.  

He notices the tattoos adorning her neck and arms and, he feels intimidated by her presence but, he responds none the less.  

“Whiskey neat.” He mutters, sliding a ten her way and, she eagerly strips it from the counter, shoving it into the register.  

“You’ve never been here before.” She notes dryly, grabbing a bottle of Jack from the shelf.  

Yoongi nods, shifting on the barstool, “Yeah, I’m here to see if anyone’s seen my friend. She disappeared on this street the other night…”  

The woman smirks, nodding her head towards the crowd of people, “Do these people look like they’d be up for snitching?”  

He glances back momentarily, “No but, I thought I’d try anyway. I have a picture of her…” He pulls out his phone, flashing the image of you towards the bartender.  

She gives it a once over before shaking her head, “Haven’t seen her. I’d remember her if I had. Girlfriend?”  

“No…” He clicks the side of his phone, shutting the screen off, “Do you know if I could talk to someone who comes here a lot? Like a regular or something? I’m not trying to cause trouble but-“  

“These people aren’t gonna tell you shit unless you speak to Jaebeom first and, I don’t know if he’d be willing to talk to scrawny little thing like you.”  

Yoongi has to swallow back the feelings he gets from her insult, feeling smaller and smaller under her gaze.  

“Who’s Jaebeom?”  

“The owner.” She pushes the drink Yoongi’s way, spilling some of it onto the dirty countertop, “He only does business in Korean…”  

“Call him up then,” Yoongi retorts sternly, growing annoyed with her attitude and the carelessness with his liquor, “, that’s my native language. Or tell me where he is…”  

“He’s a busy man… I don’t know if he’ll have time for you…”                  

“Ask him anyways.”  

There’s a bit of a stare off lingering between the two of them but, Yoongi doesn’t falter, his confidence waxing.  

He’ll be a dick if he has to, he doesn’t care; he has to figure out where you are.  

She rolls her eyes, grabbing the receiver from underneath the bar before muttering something into it. Something causes her to raise her brows in surprise and, she looks a little disappointed as she passes the receiver to Yoongi.  

He takes it, holding it up to his ear,  

“What do you want?”  

Moving the receiver to his lips, he responds clearly, trying to mask his nerves, “My friend is missing and, I want to know if you’ve seen her. Or if you know anything about her disappearance.”  

The man chuckles deeply on the other end of the line, “Am I a suspect?”  

“Everyone is. But I’m not a cop; I’m just here to see if anyone has seen anything.”  

“And the police? Do they know about your little friend?”  

Yoongi grasps the receiver firmer, attempting to amp up his toughness as he responds, “The police are fucking useless. Look, just let me show you here picture, if you haven’t seen her, I’ll leave.”  

There’s only a bit of silence but, it’s enough to get his heart racing before he finally gets a reply, “Second floor, room 632. Don’t make me wait for you.”  

Yoongi obliges, pounding his drink and rushing off to meet the man behind the voice.  

Jaebeom seems to tower over Yoongi despite the mere inches he has on him and, he looks more intimidating than Yoongi ever could.  

Three facial piercings, arms wrapped completely in tattoos, loose tank top adorning his muscular figure; if Yoongi were in a different world, he’d be wishing he was meeting this stranger in his room for different reasons.  

“Let’s see it then…”  

Yoongi shows him the photo of you and much to his surprise, Jaebeom nods, pointing a finger towards it, “I’ve seen her before, not recently though. She came in a few months ago and bought a bottle of Midori from me. She’s your girlfriend?”  

Yoongi shakes his head, “No, she’s with my other friend but, you’ve seen her? Did she come in alone?”  

The room smells of marijuana and as Jaebeom lifts a joint to his lips, Yoongi can see why.  

He nods, blowing out a billow of smoke, careless to where it ends up, “She was alone yes, I didn’t speak to her much. She was polite, left me a tip, batted her eyes a bit and left. She’s cute, it’s a shame she’s taken.” He smirks, lifting the joint to his mouth again, “Both literally and figuratively….”  

Yoongi takes a deep breath through his nose, attempting to calm down, “You haven’t seen her since?”  

“No. Honestly, why are you here? Do you really think my guys are into kidnapping? There are plenty of hot woman downstairs. No one is looking to steal. You’re on the wrong side of town for this shit. “  

“What do you mean?”  

“I mean,” Jaebeom flicks the ash onto the floor, nodding to the window beside him, “You should be asking questions in the Upside. They hunt poor bitches like that for sport.”  

Yoongi’s anger floods his brain before he can process everything he’s said, “Watch your mouth. She has a name and, I suggest you learn it before I-“  

With a puffed out chest, Jaebeom steps toward Yoongi, “Before what huh?”  

Yoongi moves back, shaking his head, “Nothing I-“ He sighs, holding his hands up, “I’m sorry. I’m angry, its been a long week. My friends and I just want her home.”  

Jaebeom deflates a bit, scanning over the smaller man in front of him, “My sister disappeared two years ago. Same street. Like I said,” Jaebum plops down in his arm chair, sadness flashes through his eyes, “You’re in the wrong part of town…”  

He nods, biting his lip at Jaebeom’s admission, “Did they ever find her?”  

“They might have…” He takes a hit of the joint, blowing it out with a scoff, “if they fucking looked.”  

Yoongi’s blood runs cold then, seeing the similarities between the two situations.  

No one cares about the people who disappear from this part of town.  

He leaves Jaebeom’s room, feeling worse than when he had arrived but, he reports his findings to the group chat anyway.  

Maybe Jaebeom was right, maybe him and his friends were looking on the wrong side of town…  

Jungkook and Hoseok- The Paybrook Motel, Saturday 7:07am  

Jungkook and Hoseok are newer to the harshness of the city. They come from sweet families, with good intentions. The lack of financial resources is compensated with a lot of love and encouragement. Their lives were similar: simple and sweet. They didn’t have too many run ins with childhood trauma or absent parental figures; they loved their home life, probably to a fault.  But given their lack of money and their love of their friends, they also found reasons to love the rooftop. Hoseok uses the concrete as an affordable practice space and Jungkook uses the view as the main muse for his photography.  

You’re running through their head as they approach the motel.  

Hoseok feels a pang of sadness in his chest as he remembers all the times you would cheer him on from your lawn chair, calling him the b-boy of the year, smiling from ear to ear even when he fucks up his choreography.  

Jungkook remembers showing you an album he made of the summer the eight of you had. He remembers you growing teary eyed as he neared the end and, telling him what an amazing photographer he was. He swallows back his tears, gripping Hoseok’s hand as they approach the entrance to the motel, taking a deep breath.  

“Maybe we shouldn’t-” Hoseok looks uneasily toward their connected hands, his teeth tugging on his bottom lip. “I just don’t want them to say anything to you.”  

Jungkook looks down, his chestnut irises narrowed in confusion, “But, we’re just friends hyung...”  

Hoseok nods, sending a sweet smile towards his pure friend, “I know Kook but, they don’t know that. I promise I’ll hold it as soon we leave ok?”  

And Jungkook really has to act like this doesn’t further his misery, sniffling once as he finally nods, pulling away from his best friend, naïve to his reasons for ending their platonic affection.  

Hoseok pats his arm before swinging open the stained-glass door to the motel, allowing Jungkook to step in front of him.  

There is a woman sitting behind the counter, staring intently at her computer screen, not even bothering to look up at the two men that have just entered.  

“Good morning.” Hoseok sends a watery smile her way, which she doesn’t reciprocate.  

In fact, she doesn’t even look his way but, instead she shoves a piece of paper across the wooden countertop, “Fill this out, there’s only two rooms available- “ At this point, she does eye the two of them with a judging glance, “single beds only.”  

“We don’t need a room mam we-” Hoseok begins, feeling rather annoyed but, Jungkook cuts him off and, practically shoves his phone over the counter.  

“This is our friend, her name is Y/N and, she went missing four days ago and, the last place we saw her is here. Have you seen her? Do you remember if anything suspicious happened?”  

Jungkook’s voice is reedy, full of desperation to the point that he grows a little out of breath.  

Hoseok had a plan with a little more finesse but, he knows how desperate Jungkook is to find you.  

He feels the same way...  

The woman looks affronted by his sudden outburst but, she glances at his phone anyway. It’s only for a moment before she brings her attention Hoseok’s way, not bothering to address Jungkook.  

“Nope. I’ve never seen her, sorry.”  

The dismissiveness in her tone surprises Hoseok. He was expecting her to keep her responses to a minimum but, her lie takes him back.  

“Wait are you serious? I live on the 8th floor, my friends come in here all the time. There’s no way you’ve never seen her before.”  

He steps closer to the counter and, the way the woman looks up stirs something inside of him.  

It’s unsettling and insidious.  

It’s as if she’s deceiving them and, she wants them to know she’s deceiving them.  

“I’ve seen you here before,” She shrugs, conceding with part of his point, “but I’ve never seen her. Although, I’m surprised she doesn’t rent a room here too, she looks like the type.”  

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Hoseok feels the venom in his tone and, although it’s unlike him to lose his temper, something about this woman enrages him.  

“Hyung please...” Jungkook’s soft plea paired with a hand to his lower back is enough for Hoseok to back down for the moment but, his nerves are still alight with suspicion. “Mam, we’re really sorry, we’re just worried about our friend. She’s been missing for a while and the police aren’t really doing anything. Are you sure that you’ve never seen her?”  

The woman seems to soften a bit momentarily but, as something on her computer seems to move suddenly into her view, she toughens up again, shaking her head.  

“Never. Is there anything else we- I can do for you?”  

Hoseok grits his teeth, restraining his urges to throw her glass of iced tea into her face.  

“No, I guess not.”  

She offers a thin smile, that doesn’t reach her eyes, “Have a nice day then. Thank you for visiting The Paybrook Motel.”  

Before Hoseok can throw an insult her way, Jungkook offers a pleasant goodbye before practically dragging his hyung out of the lobby.  

“Yah! Why were you so easy on her? She’s obviously lying! Did you see the look on her face? She knows something Jungkook, I’m telling you she does...” Hoseok is ablaze with frustration, moving quickly to the end of the awning that decorates the front of the motel.  

He’s waiting for Jungkook to join him but, instead he sees his friend moving aimlessly towards him, tears in his eyes.  

The sight makes Hoseok’s heart ache.  

“Hyung...don’t you get it? No one wants to help us.” His voice is wavering through his sadness, doing it’s best to keep afloat, “Even if she knows something, she doesn’t want to tell us. The police won’t help, the signs we put up are all in the sewer by now- no one gives a shit that she’s gone.”  

At this moment, Jungkook breaks down, his tears finally streaming down his face. He stops in the middle of the walkway, disregarding the confused looks from the patrons heading into the building.  

“Shit Kookie, don’t cry ok?”  

Hoseok rushes over to him in the midst of his hypocrisy, because he’s crying too.  

He hasn’t cried since you disappeared but, seeing his best friend break down and, knowing that life would never again be the same crushes him in a way he can’t handle.  

“Come here...come here. Hyung is here ok? Ok? We gotta pull it together.” He sniffles, pulling Jungkook into his arms, placing a kiss on top of his head.  

Jungkook doesn’t let up and, continues to cry silently into Hoseok’s t-shirt.  

“I just want her to come home hyung...”  

Hoseok nods immediately, tilting his head back to slow his tears. It’s a useless endeavor but, he tries anyway until a man’s voice interrupts their moment.  

“I saw her.”  

Hoseok and Jungkook are quick to pull away, turning their attention towards the voice in question.  

It’s obvious the man is a security guard of some kind but, Hoseok has never seen him before.  

“Excuse me?”  

The man nods to the rooftop, “I saw your friend the night she left here.”  

Hoseok approaches the man, noticing the way he seems to shrink away from his presence, “What did you see? Did you see anyone with her?”  

He nods, “Yeah, that small dude you hang out with, the messy hair...he was wearing a yellow shirt?”  

Jungkook moves to stand behind Hoseok, “That’s her boyfriend. He’s one of our friends too, he walked her out that night. He came right back up though, did you see anyone else?”  

The security guard smirks, “Hm that’s interesting.”  

Hoseok narrows his eyes, “Why?”  

The guard nods to the street parallel to the conversation, “Because she met up with someone else...”  

Jungkook and Hoseok make eye contact then, a bit of shock running through them.  

“Who was it?”  

The guard chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, his indifference insulting the two of them, “Listen, I’m new around here alright?  I don’t know names or shit like that, I just know that after your friend was kissing on one guy, she met up with some dude in a suit, you can do with that what you will but, that’s all I got for you.”  

“Jin hyung said something about a suit too.” Jungkook mutters beside Hoseok prompting a nod from him.  

“Thank you. We appreciate it and, uh listen if you hear or see anything else. I’m on the 8th floor. Room 26.”  

The guard nods, tipping his hat toward the both of them, “Will do. Be safe out there, this city is uh, an interesting place.”  

As the man moves back towards the motel Jungkook turns to Hoseok, bewildered by the information they’ve received.  

“Hyung do you-” Jungkook hesitates, the words not wanting to leave his tongue, “-do you think she left on her own? She wouldn’t do that right?”  

Hoseok keeps an eye on the guard as he disappears behind the stained glass, a sick feeling looming in his stomach.  

“No Jungkook, she wouldn’t.”  

Taehyung- La Petite Galerie, Saturday 12:46pm  

Taehyung's been painting since he was a child. Adopted into a French family, he learned his two favorite crafts from an early age: painting and charisma. He was the star of his elementary school, wooing his classmates with the use of his second language and, wooing his teachers with his painting abilities. Consistently, he placed first in his school’s art fair. He was labeled as a prodigy and, selected for all of the finest performing arts schools in the city. However, prestigious art schools come at a price his family couldn’t afford. So, he had to stay behind with the rest of his classmates, whilst his parents begin saving money. He’s so thankful that he did though because, high school is where he met his second family. The family who he’s met on the rooftop since he was 15 years old, the family who’s helped him through his darkest days, the family who’s recently been torn apart...  

He’s missing you as he walks into the gallery.  

It’s one of his favorite parts about the rooftop along with the view of the city skyline.  

You and Taehyung have sat together many times, admiring the well-dressed people walking into the gallery.  

You would always say that they were simply apart of a different world and, that you never hated them for their riches.  

Taehyung admired that about you because, he wishes he could say the same.  

But, he knows he’d be lying.  

One day, Taehyung had been brave enough to come into the gallery and, he actually made friends with the owner.  

Taehyung makes friends with everyone.  

But this woman, Clementine, had a particular soft spot for his French abilities and, gave Taehyung discounted admission for all of his friends.  

Eventually, Taehyung brought the eight of you in with him and, much to his surprise, you all enjoyed yourselves.  

He remembers that day as he steps under the warm glow of the gallery lights...  

Jin made puns about the paintings  

Namjoon endlessly dissected the potential meanings behind them  

Yoongi had admired them quietly, murmuring observations that no one could hear  

Hoseok laughed way too loud at the statue bestowing a marble penis  

Jungkook kept to Taehyung’s side as he expertly explained the stories behind the artwork  

But the image that hurts Taehyung the most is the way you looked at Jimin as he stared in awe up at the paintings.  

Taehyung had never seen someone so enamored with another person before and, he realized why so many artists use love as their muse.  

He felt happiness in his heart that you and Jimin were so happy, so much so, that he didn’t even bother thinking of his own romantic future.  

He was content.  

His family was here, admiring art in their own way, just as it was intended.  

A bit of panic rushes through him at the thought of never having you all together again.  

But determination comes along with it, reminding him why he’s visiting the gallery today.  

“Excusez-moi, j'ai rendez-vous avec Clémentine aujourd'hui (Excuse me, I have an appointment with Clementine today).”  

The woman behind the ivory desk smiles pleasantly at him, “Ah oui Monsieur Kim, asseyez-vous et je sais qu'elle est arrivée.” (Ah yes, Mr. Kim, have a seat and I’ll let her know you’ve arrived)  

He bows his head slightly, sending a tight-lipped smile her way, “Merci.” (Thank you)  

Taehyung takes a seat on the upholstered chairs near the entrance, thankful that the crowd level is mild today. It’s unexpected for a Saturday but, he doesn’t complain, he doesn’t think he can handle excessive human interaction.  

He waits for roughly 10 minutes before a nimble woman with auburn hair comes bustling out of the back room, arms opening wide as soon as she sees him.  

“Taehyung, ma chérie viens ici, viens à Clémentine...” (Taehyung, my darling come here, come to Clementine)  

Her pink lipstick accentuates the pout in her lips as she ushers Taehyung into a tight hug, her fake breasts providing very little comfort but, he accepts her affection anyway.  

He needs it.  

“Bonjour Clementine, (Hello Clementine)” He pats her hips respectively, smiling warmly as he pulls away, “Merci de me rencontrer... (Thanks for meeting me).”  

She scoffs, waving him off as she eagerly pulls him into her office, “Non-sens, je n'accepterai pas de gratitude de votre part pendant cette période.” (Nonsense, I will not except gratitude from you during this time)  

Taehyung offers her a half smile, adjusting his coat and stepping through the archway.  

Clementine’s office is tasteful, covered in various shades of pink and her most favorite pieces she’s hand-picked from the gallery.  

It’s a little loud for Taehyung but, he agrees that it’s uniquely Clementine and, he feels content enough in her presence to deal with it.  

She rushes around her desk, plopping down on her pearl encrusted office chair, “Asseyez-vous ici mon doux garçon...” (Sit here my sweet boy)  

Her face stays firm with pity as she places her manicured fingers on the marble, “Dis-moi, ont-ils entendu quelque chose?” (Tell me, have they heard anything?)  

Taehyung left posters at the gallery the day after you went missing and, Clementine was all too eager to post them all over the building’s exterior.  

He shakes his head, settling into the crushed velvet beneath him, “Non. La police n'a rien. J'ai peur qu'ils ne la recherchent même pas.” (No. The police have nothing. I’m afraid they aren’t even looking for her.)  

With a tsk of her lips, Clementine shakes her head, “Inutile.” (Useless) She spits the word, leaning back into her chair, “Avez-vous trouvé quelque chose? Je sais que tu as dit que tes amis regardaient.” (Have you found anything? I know you said your friends were looking)  

“Nous avons entendu quelques choses, mais nous n'avons pas encore beaucoup de pistes. On se retrouve demain soir pour faire un plan.” (We’ve heard a few things but, we don’t have many leads. We meet tomorrow evening to make a plan.) He feels the disappointment in his heart, wishing he was giving her a different answer, his predicament leaving him helpless.  

“Desole.” (Sorry) She replies, pouting her lips and tucking her auburn hair behind her ear, “C'est dégoûtant de voir comment cette ville est dirigée.” (It’s disgusting how this city is run.)  

A humorless laugh leaves Taehyung’s lip as he nods, “Oui. Oui ça l’est. C'est pourquoi je suis venu vers toi clémentine.” (Yes. Yes it is. That’s why I came to you Clementine.)  

She looks a little flustered by his comment, scooting closer to the edge of her seat, placing a hand to her chest, “Moi? Qu'est-ce que tu as besoin de moi?” (Me? What do you need from me?)  

Taehyung feels a little dirty at his next move but, he does it without a second thought.  

Smiling, he extends a hand towards Clementine, catching her gaze with his, “Nous venons de mondes différents oui?” (We come from different worlds, yes?)  

Against her better judgement, Clementine places her hand timidly atop Taehyungs, nearly shuddering at his warmth, “Oui, mais ça n'a pas d'importance.” (Yes but, that doesn’t matter)  

Taehyung pretends to be surprised by her answer, “Non? Pouvez-vous voir au-delà de cela?” (No? Can you see beyond that?)  

She leans towards his voice, allured by the way it caramelizes in the air around her, “Je ne vois pas ces choses. L'argent, la couleur, l'âge, ce n'est pas important.” (I don’t see these things. Money, color, age, they aren’t important)  

If he were in a different situation, he would notice the ignorance in her statement. But instead, he begins rubbing his thumb over the back of her knuckles, smiling prettily all the while.  

Clementine is melting beneath his touch, her body subconsciously slouching in her chair.  

“Vous vous souciez de moi malgré ces choses, n'est-ce pas?” (You care for me despite those things, don’t you?)  

Eagerly, she nods, licking her lips before tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, “Oui mon amour.” (Yes my love.)  

Taehyung  leans closer to her, mustering up the best smolder he can manage, “J'ai besoin de savoir ce que vous entendez dans votre monde chéri.” (I need to know what you hear in that world of yours darling.)  

Bless her, Clementine really is doomed.  

“Mon monde? Que voulez-vous dire?” (My world? What do you mean?)  

Taehyung delights in her confusion, taking a moment to seal the deal as he raises her knuckles to his lips, “Vous êtes au country club de Chamomile oui?” (You are in the Chamomile Country Club yes?)  

As he asks his question, he presses a few kisses to her skin, keeping eye contact with her all the while.  

Clementine lets out a shaky breath, placing her free hand to her chest, “Mon dieu...” (My god...) She mutters under her breath, fanning herself before responding to his original question, “Oui, Je suis.” (Yes, I am)  

He grins, still kissing over the expanse of her knuckles, “Dites-moi, entendez-vous quelque chose d'étrange lorsque vous assistez?” (Tell me, do you hear anything strange when you attend?)  

“Étrange?” (Strange?)  

“Oui, etrange. Quelque chose que vous n'êtes pas censé entendre.” (Yes, strange. Something you are not supposed to hear.)  

Clementine’s eyes shoot back and forth across the room, looking unsure of her response, “Mon amour, tu sais que je veux t'aider mais je déteste les potins. C'est désagréable.” (My love, I really want to help you but, I hate to gossip. It’s distasteful)

Taehyung pretends to smile fondly at her, stopping at her middle finger, dragging his lips up the length of it, “Il n'y a rien de désagréable chez toi bébé.” (There is nothing distasteful about baby) As he gets to the base of her hand, he parts both her middle and ring finger before licking right between the two digits suggestively, “En fait, je parie que vous avez un goût incroyable.” (In fact, I bet you taste incredible)

Clementine’s pink lipstick is smudging with the amount of times she’s licked her lips but, she does it again anyway for good measure.

“Vous avez une langue en argent Taehyung, prévoyez-vous de l'utiliser sur moi?” (You have a silver tongue Taehyung, do you plan to use it on me?)

The deep timbre of his chuckle sends goosebumps up Clementine’s spine and, her body is stretched across her marble desk in a rather uncomfortable way but, she doesn’t care.

All she wants is Taehyung.

“Voici ma proposition: vous utilisez votre langue pour parler et quand vous aurez terminé, j'utiliserai la mienne pour goûter.  Comment cette sonne?” (Here is my proposal: you will use your tongue to speak and, when you are done. I will use mine to taste, how does that sound?)

Clementine’s legs part subconsciously beneath her desk, the pink satin of her underwear stained with her arousal.

With her hand still in Taehyung’s grip she clears her throat, tilting her head innocently, “Le Country Club, que tu dis?” (The country club, you say?)

Taehyung smirks, sending a nod her way, “Oui.” (Yes)

“Je me souviens avoir entendu quelque chose de mal le mois dernier.” (I do remember hearing something wrong last month)

He kisses the back of her hand sweetly before returning it to the desk and, allowing her the proper head space to recall information.

Because, who in their right mind would be able to tell a story whilst Taehyung was kissing on them like that?

Clementine seems to deflate a bit, attempting to compose herself as Taehyung gestures for her to continue.

“Quand j'étais dans le salon de thé, je pouvais entendre les costumes parler de quelque chose qui me faisait un peu peur.” (When I was in the tea room, I could hear the suits talking about something that scared me a little)

Taehyung’s brows furrow, “Les costumes?” (The suits?)

She nods, biting her lip in hesitation, “Oui, c'est ce que les membres appellent les propriétaires du country club.” (Yes, this is what the members call the owners of the country club)

He’s watching her intently, nodding as she explains, “Qu'est-ce que tu as entendu?” (What did you hear?)

She seems to crumble under his gaze like a paper swan; torn between her desire to please him and her desire to remain proper.

“Mon amour, c'est vraiment une chose terrible…” (My love, it’s really a terrible thing…)

Taehyung’s quick on his feet, taking her hand yet again, throwing a yearning look in her direction, “Clémentine, s'il vous plaît ... mon cher ami est absent. Vous pourriez être le seul espoir que mes frères et moi ayons pour la ramener à la maison en toute sécurité. Quand elle reviendra, je te couvrirai de mille baisers pour te remercier de ce que tu as fait.” (Clementine, please…my dear friend is absent. You could be the only hope that my brothers and I have for bringing her home safely. When she returns, I’ll cover you with a thousand kisses to thank you for what you have done)

Clementine sighs dreamily, her hand limp in his grip, her legs parting further at the baritone in his voice,

“Un millier?” (A thousand?)

Taehyung gives her a thin smile, “Un millier. Maintenant s'il te plait, ma rose, dis moi ce que tu as entendu.” (A thousand. Now please, my rose, tell me what you heard)

Clementine shrinks again, looking warily around the room before she finally answers, “Je les ai entendus parler de meurtre.” (I heard them talking about murder)

It’s then Taehyung feels the hot fiery sting of fear stabbing its way into his gut, “Meurtre?” (Murder?)

She senses his uneasiness so; she tightens her grip on his hand as she continues, “Ils ont dit qu'ils prenaient le travail d'un homme important qui allait au-delà de ce qu'ils avaient fait auparavant. Ils étaient inquiets de se faire prendre.” (They said they were taking a job from an important man that went above and beyond anything they’ve done before. They were worried about getting caught)

Taehyung shakes his head in disgust, hoping desperately that you aren’t connected to the conversation she heard.

“Quoi d'autre?” (What else?)

Clementine shakes her head, “C'est tout ce que j'ai pu entendre, mon thé est arrivé pendant leur conversation.” (That’s all I could hear, my tea arrived during their conversation)

Taehyung holds back his anger as he’s reminded of the kind of person Clementine really is.

She’s sweet sure but, she’s tragically selfish.

She’s well off and, only cares for matters that concern her; otherwise she is uninterested.

All he can muster is a tight lipped smile as he suddenly stands from the crushed velvet, “Je vois. Merci de votre temps, appelez-moi si vous vous souvenez d'autre chose.” (I see. Thank you for your time, please call me if you remember anything else)

Clementine rises with him, rushing around her desk, “Tu es en train de partir? Je pensais que tu resterais un moment, tu ne devrais pas être seule en ce moment chérie.” (You’re leaving? I thought you would stay a while, you shouldn’t be alone now honey)

Taehyung gives her the fakest smile he can muster, brushing his thumb across her rubbery cheek, “Je reviendrai te voir. Merci pour votre aide, vous êtes un saint.” (I’ll come back and see you. Thank you for your help, you’re a saint)

She rubs her face against his hand like a cat in heat and, whines for him in a similar fashion, “Mon dieu, nous sommes comme Romeo et Juliette…” (My god, we are like Romeo and Juliet…)

He’s disgusted by her lack of awareness but, he plays the part anyway, tucking a finger underneath her chin, “La séparation est une si douce douleur.” (Parting is such sweet sorrow)

With a brush of his lips against hers, he quickly departs, leaving Clementine alone with her desire.

Taehyung rushes through the afternoon crowd of the gallery, feeling grateful for the crisp air that greets him when he pushes the doors open.

His mind is racing; this is the third mention of the suits and, although it isn’t much, it’s the only solid lead the seven of them have.

They need to re-group as soon as possible because, the likelihood that they fill find you alive wanes with each hour that passes.

Taehyung feels horrified at the thought that passes through his brain:

What if they are already too late?

Act III- Tuer La Grande Maison

“Jungkook, pass me a cigarette…”  

Jimin mumbles from across the fire, the light drained from his eyes.  

Jungkook’s first instinct is to question him; Jimin quit smoking two years ago.  

But, he stops himself just as the words crawl up his tongue and, instead he nods silently.  

“Here you go.” He practically whispers, passing the cigarette to Hoseok who then moves it around the circle.  

“Thanks.”  

There is a stale bit of silence that rushes through the group and, everyone seems to look at Jimin to start things off.  

But Jimin doesn’t look up, he just uses his shaky hands to light his cigarette. He takes the first inhale, his eyelids flutter as the nicotine infiltrates his senses.  

Through the smoke, Jimin shoots a dead gaze across the circle, “I have nothing else to report. Lady says she has her best guys on it but, I don’t think it matters…”  

Yoongi interjects, “Aren’t you wondering about the suits? I mean they have to have something to do with this. It’s not a coincidence that three of our sources mentioned them…”  

Jimin lets a humorless laugh leave his lips, “The suits,” He shakes his head, “They sound like a bunch of fucking DC villains.”  

Namjoon and Jin exchange something wordless between them before Jin decides to speak up,  

“Jimin, I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for all of us but, we need to keep at it. We have good information; we just need to keep digging.”  

Jimin feels his eyes burn with the promise of tears but, he just doesn’t have it in him to cry right now.  

He’s too exhausted.  

With another drag of his cigarette, he meets his hyung’s eyes with a hopelessness that shakes Jin to his core, “We don’t any money hyung, that’s all this town cares about. Maybe that’s all she cared about too…”  

Yoongi is known for his tepid disposition.  

He’s known for being the careful one, the collected one; so much so, that in high school Jin and Namjoon used to call him Mouse and, sometimes they still do.  

But right now, Yoongi is angry and, he’s not angry for the same reasons he was yesterday…  

“What are you insinuating?” Yoongi’s tone is clipped and, the intensity of his stare is enough to garner Jimin’s attention.  

He flicks the ash onto the ground, “I’m just saying…maybe I should consider the possibility that she left town on purpose.”  

“You should consider?” Yoongi bites back and, the tension between the two men immediately disperses throughout the group.  

Jimin glances to the side before looking back at Yoongi, “Yes. It’s been almost a week. The police aren’t interested in finding her, no one seems to want to speak more than they have to and, the only lead we have is that she met up with some man in a suit. According to all of your reports, she looked comfortable with him. So, what if she was? What if she was tired of being in this filthy fucking town?” He scoffs, bitterness in his tone, “I wouldn’t blame her honestly, I just wish she would have disappeared before making me fall in love with her. That would have been nice…”  

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”  

Yoongi stands up, another rare occurrence, and glares at Jimin over the fire, “Do you realize how selfish you sound? You aren’t the only one who lost someone Jimin, she’s like a sister to us. She’s not the type of person to just run away from her problems and, you should be ashamed of yourself for suggesting that she’s that much of a coward.”  

Jimin is a respectful man, he honors the age hierarchy amongst his friends but, he disregards formalities in this moment and fights back.  

“She isn’t a coward. It’s a brave move to leave your family behind to pursue a better life, I just wish she would have left a note or something.”  

“Jimin,” Namjoon interjects, trying to keep the peace as he places a hand on his thigh, “Y/N didn’t run away. She wouldn’t do something like that. C’mon you know her right? She loves you, she loves all of us.”  

Jimin crosses his arms defensively, “Did she? I mean…from what I’ve gathered Namjoon, you don’t abandon the people you love. But she left me anyway…”  

Yoongi moves closer to him, throwing is own cigarette into the fire, his brow furrowed with his growing frustration, “Why do you think your relationship with her is more important?”  

Before Jimin has a chance to respond, Yoongi interrupts him.  

“Because you two fuck? Is that why?” He glares at his best friend, with a level of fury that stifles Jimin’s martyrdom, “She taught Jungkook how to drive, she stayed up with Jin and Namjoon for six weeks straight when they were studying for their exit exams, she took Hoseok to work for months while he was saving up for his car. She gave up her studio for Taehyung’s family and, slept in her car while their house was recovering from last year’s flood. She- “ Yoongi starts out with a strong voice but, it slowly begins to falter as he gets to his addition to the list. His black hair moves fluidly with the breeze and, he looks away from Jimin. “She was there the night I- when I was…”  

The sentence is loaded and, thankfully for Yoongi, he doesn’t need to complete it.  

They all know what he’s talking about.  

Jimin feels an enormous amount of guilt wash over him as he sees his calm and collected hyung, fight the tears in his eyes.  

“Just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t mean you get a bigger stake in grieving over her, she’s important to all of us, not just you.”  

The heaviness is enough to crush the seven men sitting around the fire.  

Yoongi is frozen in his spot, staring down at Jimin with the authority of the second eldest but also, with the desperation of a friend in need.  

Jimin finally lets the sting win and, the tears fall unceremoniously down his cheeks as he tries to meet Yoongi’s gaze.  

“I’m so sorry hyung.” He’s ashamed of his behavior and, he expects Yoongi to scold him further but, instead he kneels down beside him, placing a firm hand on his leg.  

“We are going to find her.”  

It’s all he says but, it prompts to Jimin to pull him into a hug and, the two of them share a moment before Jungkook says something that shifts the course of the evening.  

“Hyung…” He begins, looking up from his phone, ���How does your friend know what kind of car Y/N drives?”  

“My friend?” Jimin sniffles, wiping his tears with the back of his hand, “What friend?”  

Hoseok looks uneasy beside Jungkook as well, staring intently at Jimin as he awaits for an answer.  

“Lady. The one you work for, how does she know what kind of car Y/N drives.”  

Jimin just shrugs and, with a nod he requests another cigarette as Yoongi returns to his seat,  

“She said it was in the news report the police published. I thought it was weird too especially since her car’s been in the shop but, the police have access to that kind of information so it makes sense.” He replies with a narrowed gaze, jerking his chin in his direction, “Why?”  

“There’s nothing about her car in the papers.”  

With Jungkook’s response, time almost freezes as a few members of the group seems to realize something dreadful.  

“Wha- How do you know that?” Jimin hasn’t caught on yet but, he knows his friends well and, there is a change in their posture that he notices, “Why does that matter?”  

Jungkook turns his phone in Jimin’s direction as a demonstration and, his voice begins to shake with his realization, “I searched everywhere hyung, it hasn’t appeared in a single article. How would she know something like that? Her car has been in the shop for two months…”  

Jimin’s reaction is immediate denial but, something crawls up his throat; something he doesn’t want to acknowledge.  

“Are you really thinking Lady had something to do with this?” He guffaws, taking another hit from his cigarette, “You know she’s like 70 right?”  

“Have you ever mentioned that she drives a civic before?” Hoseok chimes in, a look of concern on his face.  

Jimin shrugs, annoyed by their inflated reactions, “I don’t know? I wouldn’t remember telling her something like that but, I wouldn’t doubt if it came up especially when her cables were- “ His mouth parts then, cutting off his own sentence, “When her cables were cut…”  

“What are you talking about?” Yoongi pipes up and, everyone seems to lean towards the center of the circle subconsciously, growing closer without even realizing it.  

“When I was…” Jimin’s eyes are lit up with a thousand emotions as he tries to gather his thoughts, “When I was talking to her about Y/N she asked me if I thought it was the same person who cut the cables on her car. But-  I don’t remember telling her why Y/N’s car was in the shop.”  

“Why didn’t you tell us this?” Hoseok rushes out, nearly tripping over his words.  

“I- I didn’t make the connection, I just thought she was trying to help… oh my god.” Jimin brings his watery gaze around the circle, “Oh fuck. Do you think she knows? Do you think she knows what happened to her?”  

“Jimin…” Taehyung finally breaks his silence, “I think she is what happened to her.”  

And he wants to protest, because Lady is like a mother to him. She’s always there, helping him through his difficulties; she even gave him advice on how to confess to Y/N properly…none of this makes sense.  

“Think about it,” Taehyung continues, “She’s the wealthiest person in town, she knows everyone, she’s always checking up on you…don’t you think it’s a little odd that she’s so involved?”  

“I don’t know, I just thought she had connections, that’s why I went to her in the first place.”  

Jimin feels weak at this development and, Jungkook quickly takes his hand to soothe him.  

“What are we waiting for then? Lets go.” Yoongi stands with a firm look of determination but, Namjoon stops him.  

“Wait, we can’t just go busting into an old woman’s house and accuse her of kidnapping our friend. We have to have enough evidence…”  

“We have enough evidence.” Hoseok inserts, wearing a similar expression to Yoongi, “And old woman or not, if that bitch has our friend-“  

Jin comes through, intervening as things get intense, “Namjoon is right. We can’t do that. Look at us, she’d get one look and, call the police and, then we’d be the ones in handcuffs.”  

“Hyung, we literally just established a solid reason to be suspicious of someone.” Jungkook asserts, confusion evident on his features.  

Jin rolls his eyes, “All we’ve established is that Jimin may or may not have told her Y/N’s cables were cut. Lady owns half of the city, she’s more than capable of finding out what happened to Y/N’s car. This isn’t a lead, it’s odd yeah but, it’s not enough to accuse her with. She probably looked into Y/N’s vehicle information as soon as she went missing...”  

With Jin’s reasoning in place, the group seems to deflate a bit and, Jimin feels slightly relieved that he doesn’t have to suspect yet another person he’s supposed to trust.  

“I don’t know.” Jungkook’s small voice asserts, “I still think it’s weird.”  

With pursed lips, Hoseok nods along with his statement, looking longingly at the now empty back of cigarettes, “I agree.”  

“We don’t have to drop it completely, if anyone has any ideas on how to figure out more information, we should do that. Every lead is worth pursuing.” Namjoon murmurs  

“What do you think we should do?” Jungkook’s Bambi disposition is privy to Namjoon’s opinion and, he often turns to him in times of stress.  

“I have an idea.” Yoongi speaks instead, running his hand over the back of his neck, “I think I need to go back to the club. Jaebeom said the police might have found his sister if they had bothered to look for her, it kind of made me think that he had an idea of where she ended up...”  

“I’ll go with you.”  Jimin replies, throwing his cigarette into the fire  

Yoongi shakes his head, “I should go alone. He was kind of an asshole when I went the first time, I don’t even know if he’ll talk to me again.”  

Jimin chews on the inside of his cheek, wanting to protest but, he trusts Yoongi’s judgement.  

Besides, he can’t handle anyone’s attitude right now.  

“Anyone else think they need to revisit their leads?” Yoongi surveys the circle with cat-like precision, already crafting his future conversation with Jaebeom in his mind.  

Namjoon has glanced towards the direction of the Marquee River several times now and Jin, who is so tuned in to his mannerisms, notices.  

“What is it?”  

Namjoon purses his lips, “I think I need to speak with the groundskeeper again…”  

Hoseok wrinkles his nose in disgust, “The crazy guy with the bad breath?”  

He sighs, finally pulling his attention from the direction of the river, “What if his rambling actually meant something? He kept calling me madam…”  

“Namjoon,” Jin begins, placing a hand on his thigh, “he’s obviously sick, he didn’t even know who you were. How are you supposed to get anything meaningful from this guy?”  

“I don’t know. But, I think I should try…”  

“I’ll go with you hyung.” Jungkook vows, his eyes wide with his faith, “If that guys tries anything on you, I’ll kick his ass.”  

Jungkook’s very serious statement elicits something that the rooftop hasn’t heard in a while: laughter.  

They all laugh for a moment, basking in the tiny bit of innocence still left in their complicated world.  

And as the laughter dies down, Taehyung offers a sentiment that they can all agree on,  

“Let’s go find our friend.”  

After a few more cigarettes and a swig from Hoseok’s bottle of vodka, they all part ways.  

Namjoon and Jungkook head to the Marquee River whilst Yoongi prepares himself for a second visit to Ginseng. Jin and Taehyung head back to the night market to see if any of them have more information and, Hoseok finally convinces Jimin to get some rest.  

He’s been up for three days straight but, he hasn’t slept a full night since Tuesday.  

It’s hard but, after a bit more vodka, he finally passes out on Hoseok’s sofa.  

His torn between wanting to dream of you and, praying that he won’t.  

He wants to see your face but, fuck, it hurts so bad to do so.  

Namjoon and Jungkook- The Marquee River, Sunday 5:49pm  

Thankfully, the sun is just on the brink of setting when Namjoon and Jungkook arrive at the river. On Namjoon’s last visit, the moon was out and, very little people were left which left him more vulnerable. Now, not only does he have daylight on his side but, he also has a very vigilant and very protective dongsaeng to keep him company.  

“I’m just gonna stand back and, let you do your thing hyung but, if things get a little heated…I got your back ok? You just say the word and I’ll lay him out.” Jungkook vows, puffing his chest out as they approach the area Namjoon last saw the groundskeeper.  

He chuckles, patting Jungkook on the shoulder, “Thank you. I appreciate you coming with me. We shouldn’t be too long, especially if he starts rambling again.”  

Jungkook just nods, keeping close to his hyung, resisting the urge to hold his hand.  

He really wishes platonic hand-holding was more acceptable.  

Namjoon tenses up as he spots the groundskeeper near one of the trash cans but, he takes a deep breath and jerks his head in his direction, “There he is…”  

Jungkook nods, his expression tightening a bit as he prepares for the worst.  

“Hello?” Namjoon calls out tentatively  

The groundskeeper is dressed in slightly cleaner coat but, Namjoon still tenses up regardless.  

“Good evening gentleman.” The man turns around, smiling brightly, a rake grasped firmly in his hand, “What can I do for you?”  

Namjoon is confused.  

Is this the same man?  

He looks the same but, cleaner?  

And he isn’t laughing...  

What the hell is going on?  

“Uh good evening um...” Namjoon’s eyes flit to Jungkook, “Do you uh- do you remember me?”  

The man cocks his head, narrowing his eyes for a moment before shaking his head,  

“No, I’m so sorry I don’t. Have we met before?”  

Namjoon nods immediately but, for a moment he wonders if the experience he had the other night was some sort of stress induced hallucination.  

“Yeah, I came here the other night. I asked you if you had seen my friend?”  

For good measure, Namjoon holds up his phone, showing your photo and, the man pushes his glasses up his nose and leans in.  

He still has the scar but, his face isn’t greasy.  

His hair is combed to the side and, he doesn’t smell like slow death.  

Namjoon’s heart picks up at the thought of his own sanity slipping from him until the man finally seems to remember something.  

“Oh my-” He pulls back and shoots a wary look Namjoon’s way, “I do remember you. My goodness, I am so incredibly sorry, I probably scared the daylights out of you.”  

Namjoon’s polite nature causes him to chuckle uneasily but, he keeps his distance, not fully trusting this guy’s demeanor.  

“Yeah you uh, you definitely did. So uh...”  

The man cuts him off, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I suffered a head injury two years ago. The damage to my brain causes brief bouts of psychosis and, unfortunately I didn’t have enough money to refill my prescription.” The man extends his hand towards Namjoon and Jungkook, “My name is Nestor, please forgive my behavior. I can imagine it was quite shocking...”  

Namjoon and Jungkook were raised to be polite men so, despite their hesitation; they shake his hand, bowing their heads as they do.  

“I see. I’m sorry to hear about your accident.”  

Nestor chuckles and, something flashes in his eyes that Namjoon can’t quite decipher, “Oh it was no accident son, I was attacked.”  

Jungkook narrows his eyes and, although he claimed he wouldn’t speak, his curiosity gets the best of him, “By who?”  

Nestor looks to the side for a moment before glancing back at them,  

“I can’t remember.”  

“That’s awfully convenient.” Jungkook can’t help but observe with a pouted mouth and, Namjoon lightly smacks his chest.  

“Sorry but, you don’t remember?”  

Namjoon’s intricate brain is searching for ways to connect the dots but, the man is offering him very little information.  

“No, the doctors said I was attacked and, left for dead. I suffered damage to my hippocampus and, this caused a pretty bad episode of amnesia. I couldn’t remember who I was or how old I was, the only thing I could remember is my cat’s name...” He chuckles and, the clouded film over his eyes adds to the pain that flashes through them, “Which is quite funny you see because, my cat’s name is Cognac so, when I kept asking for Cognac, the nurses would try and explain to me over and over that I couldn’t have alcohol in my state.”  

Jungkook and Namjoon offer their condolences in the form of breathless laughter but, their level of empathy quickly absorb Nestor’s sadness.  

“Anyway...” Nestor gestures to Namjoon’s cellphone as a means to change the subject, “I have seen your friend before but, I don’t remember the last time I saw her. I’m terribly sorry...”  

Jungkook pipes up, “It’s ok sir, we understand, your hippo is damaged, that’s not your fault.”  

Namjoon’s mouth opens in disbelief and, he wants to correct Jungkook’s mistake but, he has more important matters to attend to.  

“I hope this isn’t too much for you but, the last time I was here- “ He hesitates, glancing over at Nestor, “-last time I was here, you kept calling me madam. Is there any significance to that?”  

“Oh...” Nestor chuckles, tucking a bit of his gray hair behind his ear, “I’m sure I was talking about my wife. It’s common for me in those episodes to ask for her. She passed away two years ago.”  

This is something Namjoon has been waiting for.  

Two years ago, this man was attacked.  

Two years ago, his wife passed away.  

Two years ago, Jaebeom’s sister went missing.  

There must be some correlation.  

“It was lovely meeting you gentleman. Unfortunately, I have to get back to my duties,” He gestures to the multi-colored leaves littered on the ground, “, these leaves aren’t going to rake themselves.”  

Namjoon understands of course and, they quickly shake hands again but, just before the two men turn to leave, Jungkook’s randomized curiosity strikes again.  

“What happened to your cat?”  

Nestor seems to search his brain and, his features almost crumple with a bit of desperation,  

“I don’t- I don’t remember.”  

Jungkook just nods, offering him a small smile before him and Namjoon move through the trees towards the street.  

Yoongi- Ginseng Night Club, Sunday 8:37pm  

As Yoongi enters the club for the second time, he carries himself much differently. He ignores the looks from the patrons littered on the couches, he ignores the bass vibrating in his bones, he ignores the jabs from the bartender as he asks to speak with Jaebeom.  

His anxiety is replaced with determination.  

When Jaebeom swings open the door a second time, he’s toned body is only covered by a pair of jeans.  

With another joint between his fingers, Jaebeom smirks down at Yoongi, “Are you here for business or pleasure?”  

Yoongi shamelessly allows his eyes to move over Jaebeom’s figure, admiring it but, also noting that his skin is littered with more than just tattoos.  

Nail marks run down the length of his abdomen, purple bruises congregate on the left side of his neck and, his lips are swollen with evidence of kissing.  

“Looks like you’ve had enough pleasure for the evening.” Yoongi notes in Korean, forcing his gaze away from Jaebeom’s body, “I need to ask you a few more questions.”  

Jaebeom’s smirk never falters as he pulls the joint to his lips. With a jerk of his head, he ushers Yoongi inside, shutting the door behind him, “Make it quick, I have company coming…”  

Yoongi wants to make a comment but, he knows it’s not important enough so, he starts with his first question, “I know this might be hard to talk about but when I was here last night, you said something about your sister going missing.”  

A noticeable change runs through Jaebeom’s body as he takes his seat, “Yeah, what about it?”  

“I thought it was odd that they-  my friend and your sister,” He elaborates, “went missing on the same street and the way you spoke about it, it was like you knew something about where she went…”  

Jaebeom tenses up with the subject change but, he sees something in Yoongi that he likes, there is an honesty to him that Jaebeom fucks with, “I have a feeling, yes, but I could never prove it.”  

Yoongi offers silence as a way to encourage him to continue and, Jaebeom obliges despite his hesitation.  

“Her and her boyfriend used to come in to the club every Thursday night for Happy Hour. They had been dating for a while and, things seemed to be going all right. But one night, she came in alone and I asked her where he was and, she told me they were taking a break.” Jaebeom’s expression shifts again and Yoongi, being the empath that he is, senses the onslaught of negative emotion. “She wouldn’t tell me what happened. She just kept begging me to stay out of it and, she made me promise her I wouldn’t confront him. He came in to the club later that night and, some of my guys told me they got into a huge fight-“  

Yoongi interjects, “Did you see anything?”  

He shakes his head and, before he elaborates, he takes another hit of his blunt, “No, I was up here doing a deal but, the next thing I know, my friends are coming up here and, telling me that my sister ran out of the club, crying and shit. I tried to call her, I even went out on the street and, asked everyone if they saw her but…” His voice tightens before he blows smoke from his lips, “…nothing. I blew up her phone for the rest of the night but, she never responded. I went to the police the next day and, surprise surprise, they were fucking useless. They kept saying that ‘girls like her runaway all the time’ and ‘she’ll be back before you know it.’ I was so angry. I couldn’t believe they didn’t care. I did the same thing you and your boys are doing, I started my own investigation and, I didn’t get very far until, I found her cell phone in the club’s dumpster.”  

Yoongi surprise is evident on his face and, it prompts Jaebeom to comment on it,  

“Yeah I know right? You’d think that would have helped but, it only made everything more complicated. I looked through her messages to try to figure out what happened and-“ He blows a heavy breath between is lips, shaking his head, “Her boyfriend was cheating on her but, it was with some old chick, like his boss or some shit…I don’t know.”  

“His boss?”  

He nods, “Yeah, he worked the Upside as a pool boy.”  

Yoongi’s heart drops then, down to the pit of his stomach and, he literally feels the sweat collecting in the wells of his palms.  

“A pool boy?” He has to clarify, just so he’s sure he heard him right  

Jaebeom nods and licks his lips, “Yeah, my sister found out he was fucking her; at least that’s what I got from her texts.”  

“My friend works as a pool boy too. It’s his girlfriend that missing.”  

Jaebeom’s brows rise before shaking his head, “Shit…” He takes another hit, “That’s a hell of a coincidence.”  

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”  

Yoongi and Jaebeom regard each other for a moment before Jaebeom’s mouth turns up in a smirk, “I guess you have an old lady to visit then. If you see my sister’s boyfriend, slap him around a little bit for me heh…”  

Jaebeom seems to gulp the pain he feels down his throat before finishing off the blunt and throwing it in the ashtray.  

“Wait, did he disappear too?”  

He nods, “Haven’t seen him since that night. I just assumed he was living the high life, I mean, I don’t blame him…I’d suck on some old lady titties too for that kind of money…” Jaebeom quickly replaces the blunt in his hand with a the bottle of beer he had sitting on his side table. He takes a swig before holding out to Yoongi, “You want some?”  

Yoongi doesn’t understand his attitude towards his sister’s disappearance. If he knew where her boyfriend was, why wouldn’t he go talk to him?  

But he takes the offer, throwing back a bit of stale beer, letting the slight warmth from the alcohol soothe the rawness in his chest.  

“Why didn’t you go up there? If that’s where he is?”  

“I don’t have contacts up there. There was no way they’d let me in, look at me…” He chuckles, gesturing to his rough appearance, “Besides, I don’t know where that bitch lives and, honestly, it’s probably for the best. I don’t know what I’d do to that guy if I found him…”  

A few more words are exchanged before Yoongi decides he needs to leave; he has a lot to report and, he feels as though time is running out.  

As he’s moving to the threshold of the door, Jaebeom get his attention.  

“Hey-“  

As Yoongi turns around, Jaebeom leans forward in his seated position, placing his elbows on his knees, “What’s your name?”  

Yoongi’s lips twitch, “Yoongi.”  

Jaebeom grins, nodding his head in consideration, “Yoongi. Alright then, well if you ever want to take a night off from your detective work and, uh you know,” He nods to the bed, “have some fun, you know where to find me.”  

Desire stirs in Yoongi’s stomach and, he’s flattered honestly, that such a handsome man could take interest in him but, he knows he couldn’t take a night off if he tried.  

He’s got a friend to find.  

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He sends a smile towards Jaebeom, bowing his head slightly, “See you around.”  

“I hope so.”  

The information they have accrued is once again exchanged amongst the group and, there is only one conclusion that everyone continues to arrive at:  

They have to get inside Lady’s house.  

So, putting their heads together they concoct a plan that just might work.  

The plan is simple.  

Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung will take Lady up on her offer of a home cooked meal.  

Thankfully, Taehyung’s closet is full of clothes that look far more expensive than they actually are; working at a thrift store has its perks.  

Jimin is dressed in a gray and black suit, covered in a gaudy brocade pattern.  

Jungkook choses a floral blazer and black slacks, complete with a simple white button up he borrows from Taehyung’s father.  

Taehyung donns something slightly less subtle; a black and silver blazer with a similar brocade pattern to Jimin’s suit jacket.  

They take time on their hair, doing it up as if it were each of their wedding days.  

When it’s all said and done, the three men walk out of Taehyung’s room looking like they came straight out of Interview with Vampire.  

Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon and Jin are dressed in all black.  

They will serve as a distraction during dinner to enable the younger men to explore the property undisturbed by Lady’s security guards.  

It’s not an easy task but, they are more than ready to attempt it.  

An invitation to dinner is of course incomplete without a gift for it’s lovely host.  

Tonight, a bottle of champagne is clutched in Taehyung’s grasp as he strolls up the cobblestone walkway.  

However, this champagne is slightly modified to fit this evening’s itinerary.  

“Doxepin, it's what I take for insomnia. This shit is strong, I only have to take one and, I’m out like a light in 30 minutes...” Yoongi had explained, pushing his prescription bottle towards Taehyung, “Slip that bitch 3 or 4 and, she’ll hit the floor. When she wakes up, just tell her she passed out for a few minutes…”  

And so it was.  

Lady's home is massive.  

It’s the biggest house the men have ever seen.  

Jimin has stood in its immensity before but, Jungkook and Taehyung are almost disgusted by its grandeur.  

The white paint seems to stretch upwards for miles, the greenery of the vines decorating it in such a way that it almost looks serene.  

Nothing could be farther from the truth.  

The lawn is immaculate.  

Carefully trimmed hedges sculpted to perfection line the walkway that leads to the dark oak that encompasses the front door.  

They aren’t here for a lovely dinner inside this massive house.  

The true nature of their visit is simply to gather more information.  

They aren’t sure how but, Lady is connected to your disappearance.  

Tonight, they will gather enough evidence to warrant an investigation.  

Maybe then, the city below them will finally pay attention to their cries for help.  

Lady doesn’t greet them at the door but, another intriguing person does.  

“Noah...” Jimin greets the suited man with a smile that is far too sweet.  

But he delights in the man’s surprise and, Jimin connects another piece of the puzzle.  

Noah is a classmate of theirs.  

He was fortunate enough to land a job in the Upside after graduation.  

He was fortunate in that his family had money and connections that pushed Noah ahead of his fellow alumni.  

Noah knew you well.  

Noah is dressed in a suit.  

Noah works for Lady.  

It seems there is a connection but, instead of pummeling Noah like he wants to, Jimin simply bows his head as he steps through the threshold of Lady’s home.  

“Wh-What are you guys doing here?” Noah stutters, trying desperately to compose himself.  

Taehyung offers the same smile adorning Jimin’s mouth, “We’re here for dinner. What are you doing here?”  

It’s a loaded question and Noah knows it but, he’s helpless to act on this knowledge because, he is required to treat Lady’s guests with respect.  

“I work here.” He mutters, gesturing towards the dining room, “She’s uh...she’s right in there.”  

“Aren’t you going to offer to take our coats?” Jimin feigns innocence, nodding to the coat rack beside the door.  

Noah nods and with shaky hands and, he accepts each of the coats before hanging them up.  

“Enjoy your evening gentleman.”  

The three of them walk away with a sense of satisfaction but, they are also sick with the knowledge of where one of their former friends ended up.  

Money can create the most dastardly of monsters.  

“Oh my goodness you’re here! Come in, come in.”  

Lady appears at the archway, dressed in a red satin gown, her grey hair piled elegantly atop her head.  

Time has been kind to her, Jungkook thinks, she doesn’t look 70.  

But then again, age seems to be less of an issue when you have millions of dollars at your disposal.  

“Lady these are my friends, Jungkook...” He gestures to the man on his right, who bows respectfully offering a boyish smile.  

“Thank you so much for having me Lady Noona, you have an incredible home.”  

Lady is already flustered; she can’t believe Jimin has friends as handsome as he is.  

“And Taehyung...” Jimin continues, smirking at Jungkook’s acting skills.  

Taehyung, takes her hand, keeping eye contact with her and lowering his lips to her knuckles, “Enchanté, votre maison est belle oui mais pas aussi belle que vous.” (Enchanted. Your house is beautiful yes but, not nearly as beautiful as you.)  

Lady’s face rushes red and, she giggles like a demented schoolgirl, fanning herself as Taehyung releases her hand.  

“Oh mon dieu tu l'es aussi. N'hésitez pas à continuer...” (Oh my goodness, you are too much. Please don’t hesitate to continue.)  

“My lord Jimin, you didn’t tell me your friends were so handsome and, that one of them speaks French- “ She eyes Taehyung teasingly and he responds by winking.  

“He was adopted when he was younger by a French family, he actually doesn’t speak English very well.” Jimin lies, strolling into the dining room and, beginning his search for something incriminating.  

She nods, her eyes alight with intrigue, “I see well,” She leans into Taehyung’s frame, lowering her voice slightly, “Ne t'inquiète pas je n'aurai aucun mal à communiquer avec toi.” (Not to worry, I’ll have no trouble communicating with you)  

Taehyung chuckles at that, bringing his lips to her ear, “Bien sûr, vous en avez déjà dit beaucoup.” (Of course, you have already said so much)  

Lady is floored and, enlightened with desire.  

So much so, that she arranges for Taehyung to sit right beside her.  

The dining table, Jimin remembers, is smaller to create a more intimate setting.  

Jimin takes a seat across from Lady who sits at the head of the table whilst Jungkook and Taehyung settle into the two middle chairs between them.  

The first course is a salad topped with fancy ingredients the men barely recognize but, they dive into it anyway as Lady begins the conversation.  

“Any word about Y/N?” She ventures solemnly, giving her best look of concern.  

Jimin smiles, saccharine as ever, “Nothing so far but, I’m sure your men will give me an update soon.”  

Lady nods mid-chew, pouting her lips slightly, “Of course sweetheart, they send me updates whenever they have something.”  

Taehyung interjects, “Ne parlez pas encore d'elle, ça ruine mon humeur. Je t'ai apporté quelque chose. L'homme du magasin a dit que c'était sucré, peut-être que nous pourrions l'avoir avec un dessert?” (Don’t talk about her yet, it ruins my mood. I brought you something. The man at the store said it was sweet, maybe we can have it with dessert?)  

This surprises Lady of course but, as Taehyung hands her the bottle of champagne adorned appropriately with a twist off cap; She smirks salaciously and nods.  

“Tout ce que vous voulez...” (Whatever you want...)  

Taehyung arches a brow, leaning in towards her once more, “Tout ce que je veux?” (Whatever I want?)  

This is part of the plan of course, to disarm her and, Taehyung is doing an incredible job.  

“Oui.”  (Yes.) She practically coos in response, shameless to the presence of the other men.

He chuckles darkly and, beneath the table he places a hand on her thigh, “Et si je te veux pour le dessert?” (What if I want you for dessert?)  

Jimin wants to hurl a little bit because, although he can’t understand what they are saying, he knows something inappropriate is going down.  

“Jimin, your friend is going to make me misbehave.” Lady giggles, licking her lips as she eyes Taehyung hungrily.  

He plays it off though, this is part of the plan.  

“I’m sorry about him. He’s a shameless flirt.” Jimin chuckles lazily, eyeing Jungkook from over his water glass.  

“No apology needed.” She smirks, flushing a further shade of red as Taehyung sends a wink in her direction, “Now, tell me Jungkook, what is that you do?”  

Jungkook smiles brilliantly, looking eagerly at her, “I work as a paralegal for a law firm a few cities over but, on the weekends I work as a personal trainer.”  

The lie is so well executed, Jimin and Taehyung want to cackle but, they hold it together, sticking to their script.  

“Oh that is so impressive. I hear Law careers are increasing by 18% over the next 5 years, it’s an incredible industry to get into.” She compliments, stabbing more of the lettuce onto her fork.  

“I’m glad you think so Noona, I can imagine someone as successful as you has a lot of wisdom for someone like me.” Jungkook’s Bambi eyes are on full display as he stares longingly in Lady’s direction, licking his lips.  

His words have a double meaning and, Lady knows it, she wonders how she got so lucky to have two handsome men flirting with her.  

“I know my way around sure,” She remarks with a smile, “I can introduce you to some of my colleagues, many of them work in your prospective field.”  

“Really?” Jungkook beams, “That would be an honor Noona, thank you so much.”  

Lady nods and places a well-manicured hand over his, “Of course, any friend of Jimin’s is a friend of mine.”  

She turns to Taehyung, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of her, “Et vous, quel est votre métier?” (And you? What is your job?)

Taehyung pouts slightly, eyeing her in a way that suggests embarrassment, “Je suis un artiste. Je vends mes tableaux. C'est un travail très difficile mais, je l'aime tellement, je ne peux pas imaginer faire autre chose.” (I am an artist. I sell my paintings. It’s a very difficult job but, I love it so much, I can’t imagine doing anything else.)

Lady melts at his words, a longing sigh leaving her lips, “Bien sûr. C'est tellement admirable que vous poursuivez ce qui vous passionne.” (Of course. That is so admirable that you pursue what you’re passionate in.)

Taehyung smirks, eyeing her as he takes a sip of his water, “Merci. Je suis curieux maintenant, de quoi êtes-vous passionné?” (Thank you. I’m curious now, what are you passionate about?)

Before she can answer, the second course is served: roasted beef with a béarnaise sauce on a bed of microgreens.

Rich people shit, Jimin thinks but, he smiles graciously none the less.

He isn’t hungry, he hasn’t been hungry for the past week so, he pushes the meat around the plate as he continues to survey her dining area.

There is nothing out of place but, then again, he isn’t sure what he’s looking for.

The only thing he can do is wait for dessert…

Once Lady is out, they will be able to search for what they need.  

“Lady, do you live here all alone?” Jungkook feigns concern, tilting his head.

She smiles sadly and nods, dabbing her lips with a silk napkin, “Yes I do. My husband, Nestor, died two years ago of an aneurysm.  I’ve been alone here ever since, well minus my guards of course. I’m sure you saw them outside but, they don’t live here full time.”

Jungkook has to stifle his shock.

The name Nestor, isn’t a common one.

In fact, he’s only ever heard it once before...

Jungkook kisses his teeth, pouting his lips slightly, “Oh noona, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

She pouts too, mirroring his expression, soaking up all of his sympathy, “That’s alright dear. I manage just fine, I have to admit though, it’s so wonderful having company. It gets lonely up here.”

The youngest smirks, “Oh of course Noona, I can only imagine…” He places a hand on her thigh beneath the table, rubbing gently over her dress, “A woman like you should never be lonely.”

Jimin and Taehyung have to physically repress their reactions to Jungkook’s acting abilities; it’s a side of him they have never seen.

Anger is something Jungkook doesn’t encounter very often.

But as he looks into Lady’s face, he feels rage coursing through him.

Because, he knows she isn’t genuine.  

He knows there is something off about her.  

Jungkook would normally never dream of harming another person but, when his friends are getting hurt, his morals begin to loosen.

“Oh my, you boys make me feel young again.” Lady chuckles before taking a bit of her beef, “You know…I have the resources to assist you, I tell Jimin this all the time but, he’s just so modest.” She winks at him and, Jimin pretends to shy away from her compliment, “I could really help you with your chosen career paths. Taehyungie,” She turns to him, flashing the pearl white of her dentures, “Ma sœur Clemtenine possède une galerie au centre-ville, je suis sûr que je peux lui faire acheter une partie de votre art. Je sais que j'aurais certainement adoré en acheter ...” (My sister Clementine owns a gallery downtown, I’m sure I can get her to purchase some of your art. I know I’d certainly loved to buy some)

Taehyung’s stomach drops at her statement but, he remains composed and arches his brow, “Clementine? C'est un nom tellement intéressant…” (Clementine? That is such an interesting name…)  

Lady giggles once again, “Oui, nos parents étaient des gens excentriques.” (Yes, our parents were eccentric people.)

“Ils étaient probablement beaux aussi…” (They were probably beautiful too…)

Taehyung winks again and, he must admit, he’s getting off on how easy she is to trick.

She fans herself through her uneasy giggle, nudging his knee with her own, “Oh arrête de me flatter, je suis sérieux, je pourrais vraiment t'aider” (Oh stop flattering me, I’m serious, I could really help you.)

Taehyung pretends to be touched as he places a hand to his chest but before he can reply, a loud voice rings in through the intercom above the dining table.

“Mam this is Noah. There is a disturbance down at the main gate, we have to leave to go check it out, are you alright in there?”

Lady rolls her eyes, unbothered, “Of course Noah, I’m with my friends. Go take care of it, update me when you’re done.”

Anxiety swims into the stomachs of the three men; phase one is complete.

The guards are due to be distracted and, all they can hope is that Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon and, Jin stay safe in the process.

“Is everything alright?” Jimin tilts his head, glancing towards the speaker.

She smile reassuringly, waving him off, “Of course, this happens all the time. It’s probably just the homeless, poor things, they beg at my gate sometimes. I don’t engage with them though, as much as I want to help, I don’t believe in handouts you know? It teaches them nothing.”  

This both confuses and enrages Jimin all at once.

She has no problem offering her resources to the three of them because, lets face it, it’s obvious she is partial to their good looks.

But he’s disgusted with her way of thinking.

Everyone deserves a fair shot.

He can’t understand how people, especially fortunate people like Lady, could have this outlook.

But then again, without the abuse of the working class, how would people like her make all of their money?  

“I’ll drink to that.” Jimin smiles, raising his glass and, the rest of the table follows suit, sipping from their crystal goblets.

Then, something peculiar happens…

Beneath their feet, against the expensive lacquer on the wood varnish, there is a banging sound.  

Lady tenses up but, deflects immediately, her surprise quickly smoothing out of her features, “Forgive me, I’m having a wine cellar built beneath the dining room, they’ve been measuring all morning so, it looks like they are getting started on the construction.”

Jimin’s expression shifts and, he stares across the table like a snake honing in on his pray, “Oh? That’s so weird, I didn’t notice any construction trucks outside.”

Lady smiles gracefully, “They have been working for quite awhile, part of their team left to gather more supplies. I’m so indecisive, I changed my mind about the interior several times…” She turns to Taehyung, feeling uneasy under Jimin’s gaze, “Que pensez-vous du marbre noir?” (What do you think of black marble?)

Taehyung’s eyes light up, “Ah, marbre noir? Excellent choix, si séduisant.” (Ah, black marble? Excellent choice, so seductive.)

She entangles her fingers with his beneath the table cloth, shooting him a suggestive look that makes Taehyung sick to his stomach, “Oui, vous l'êtes…” (Yes, you are.)

All Taehyung can manage is a smirk and, a thumb over the back of her knuckles.

His patience is running out.

“L'heure du dessert?” (Dessert time?)

He nods to the kitchen and, Lady immediately blooms with excitement.

“Oui, oui…” She smiles, craning her neck towards the kitchen, “We’re ready for dessert now, what’s taking so long?”

Crème Brule is served alongside a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream and, Taehyung whispers something in her ear about her being similar to the French dessert.

With flushed cheeks, Lady giggles (for the millionth time) and, begins eating.

“Chérie, es-tu prêt pour le champagne que j'ai apporté? Il ira bien avec ce dessert…” (Darling, are ready for the champagne I brought? It will go well with this dessert…)

With her approval, Taehyung pours the bubbly liquid into each of the flutes, smirking devilishly at his friends as he does.

Taehyung watches her like a hawk and, picks up her glass, getting dangerously close to her as he lifts it to her lips, “Boisson. Dis-moi ce que tu penses.” (Drink. Tell me what you think.)

Like saucers her eyes widen and, she’s so enthralled with Taehyung, she doesn’t notice another round of banging beneath the floorboards.

But the rest of them do.

Her eyes flutter as she sips some of the bubbly liquid but, Taehyung isn’t satisfied.

“Ah ah…Avale tout pour moi.” ( Ah ah…Swallow it all for me)

She obliges, practically spluttering at his double entendre.

“Bonne fille.” (Good Girl) He chuckles darkly, his heart thumping in his chest, he likes this.  

He has to admit.

There is something so satisfying about fooling an opponent.

He’s turned on by it.

She gulps as she continues to stare at him, completely captivated.

“C’est delicieux.” (It’s delicious) She finally manages, dabbing her lips with the silk once again.

“Tu fais un bon show…” (You put on a good show) He remarks, smirking before pretending to sip some of his own champagne.

There is a bit of silence that moves throughout the table before Jimin takes the reigns once again,

“Lady, I really appreciate you having us tonight. We needed a night off; things have been so difficult lately.”

Lady immediately smiles, forcing her eyes away from Taehyung, “Of course sweetheart. You know I’m always here for you.”

Another sound is forced against the wood below and, for whatever reason, this startles Lady.  

“Goodness, they are loud…” A nervous laugh leaves her lips and she attempts to stand up before faltering a bit, eyeing Taehyung immediately as she seems to stumble.

Taehyung reacts, standing with her and, holding onto her waist, “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas chérie?” (What’s wrong darling?)

She mumbles something incoherent which prompts a sadistic grin to appear on Taehyung’s mouth, “Vous sentez-vous un peu endormi?” (Do you feel a little sleepy?)

She nods, clinging to him helplessly as he guides her to the settee beneath the window,

“C'est bon chéri, dors pour moi. Je promets que je serai là quand tu te réveilleras.” (It’s ok darling, sleep for me. I promise I’ll be there when you wake up.)

Lady’s eyes are growing heavier when Taehyung lays her down and, as he does, he places a kiss atop her forehead, “Si jamais tu le fais…” (If you ever do…)

Her eyes widen at his threatening tone but, before she can process it fully, she passes out in his arms.  

Taehyung, Jungkook and, Jimin all look at each other for a moment before, they spring into action.

They shove the dining table aside, disregarding the sound of the expensive china as it crashes to the floor.

There is a Persian rug that covers the sound and, that is quickly shoved aside to reveal something that makes their stomach turn.

Because, beneath the dining table, there is a cellar door.

Jimin swallows his fear and with shaky hands, he leans down, “Hello?”

Silence.

He tries again, his chest numb from the force of his beating heart, “Is there- is anyone down there?”

Nothing.

Jimin frantically looks for a way in but, the hatch is sealed with a padlock.

“It’s locked, we need a way to-“ He begins but, a voice interrupts him.

A voice he is longed to hear for what seems like eternity.  

“Jimin?”

The men look at each other with such heightened emotion that it could power the entire city.

Because, that voice belongs to you.

“Y/N? Baby? Oh my god…” He clutches the wood, banging on it without a reason why, “Baby? Is that you?”

Down in the cellar, beneath the big house you were taken to, you begin to cry at the sound of your boyfriends voice.

You must be dreaming you think.

He can’t be real.  

Is it possible?  

Is the nightmare finally over?

“Jimin!” You cry weakly, using all the strength you have.

The woman who forced you down here hasn’t fed you since your arrival.

She’s just left you down there, along with the rest of her secrets.

The room you’re in isn’t very big.

It’s constructed crudely and made of stone.

There are only two things to keep you company:

A pile of bones and, a pile of money.

When the woman laid you beneath her home, she said only one thing to you,  

“You will die down here. You will die beside the life you will never have and, while you do, I’ll make sure he gets everything he could ever want.”

Jimin chokes back a sob as he pounds against door yet again and, he doesn’t notice that Jungkook is already scanning the room for solution.

“I’m right here baby, I’m right here, I’m going to get you out ok? Just hang on…”

You cover your chapped lips with the palm of your hand, sobbing into it.

You couldn’t believe it.

He found you.

He actually found you.

You didn’t know how and, it didn’t matter.

You just want to go home.

“Jungkook and Taehyung are here with me, we’re going to get you out!” He calls and, as if on cue, Jungkook appears beside him with hammer, “Watch out.” He grunts, determination in his eyes, “Y/N! I’m gonna break the door in ok? I need you to move aside so you don’t get hurt!”

You laugh in disbelief at the sound of your friend’s voice, “Use that brute strength of yours Kookie! Show that door who’s boss!”  

He chuckles at that, tears collecting in his eyes, “I got you Noona, just make sure you’re not in the way!”

Taehyung is smiling too, trying not to lose it at the sound of your voice.

He keeps a careful eye on Lady, who is still passed out on the settee.

If he hated her before, he wants to kill her now.

Taehyung knew she was involved yes but, he never suspected she had you locked in her fucking cellar.

Jimin is itching to get you in his arms, he wants to claw through the wood himself but, instead he stands back and, lets Jungkook hack away at the cellar door.  

You can see it.

The expensive wood slowly splintering above, light pouring in through the jagged cracks.

The only light you’ve had down here is a single bulb hanging from the ceiling.

It’s been torture.

But, none of that matters to you right now.

The only thing you can focus on is the sight of your boyfriend’s face as he tears the remaining wood away from the frame.

“Jimin…” You whimper, ignoring the weakness in your body before crawling your way up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to be in his arms.

Jimin breaks down, reaching out for you…

You’re still in the same outfit he last saw you in.

“Baby, come here…come here…” He pulls you into his arms, his body shaking with his cries as he holds you so tight, it’s almost painful, “I got you, I got you. You’re safe now, you’re safe…”

You’re face in his neck, sobbing whilst your fists clutch his blazer.

You don’t fully understand what’s going on, or why they are here dressed like little princes.

But, you’re not in the headspace to ask.

You just want to stay in Jimin’s arms and, never let go.

“We’re so sorry…” Jungkook sniffles, wrapping his arms around you and Jimin.

Taehyung follows suit, letting his tears fall, “We’re going to make sure they pay for what they did to you.”

Time seems to stand still as you relish in the affection of the people closest to you.

“Don’t ever be sorry. Look what you guys did…you found me. You saved me.” You whisper weakly, your face remaining in Jimin’s neck.

“Jimin? Taehyung? What on earth is going on?”

The sound of her voice makes your blood run cold…

Lady is sitting up, disorientated but before she has a chance to process what’s going on, Taehyung grabs the carving knife from the dining room table and holds it up to her neck.

“Funny, we were going to ask you the same question.”

Lady’s mouth parts in shock, her eyes widening in fear, “I- I-“ She glances around the room before she spots you and, her heart stalls, “I can explain…”

Jimin wants to freak out on her, he really does but, he doesn’t want to let go of you.

“Lady…” He spits from the floor, setting his piercing gaze on her, “Why the fuck is my girlfriend in your cellar?”

She hesitates and, Taehyung can tell she’s looking for a way out so, he presses the knife into her skin, “Answer him.” He hisses through his teeth

Jungkook stands as well, prepared to back him up should he need it.

“Jimin please, you must know. I was only looking out for you…women like her, they ruin men like you. I was trying to protect you.”  

“Protect me?!” He barks, shaking his head in disbelief, “By murdering the only woman I’ve ever loved? By putting my friends and I through the worst week of our life?!”

Taehyung holds the knife steady as he jerks his head towards her, “Stand up…”

She obliges, mouth parted in disbelief, her hands up in front of her submissively, “You’re working three jobs to support yourself, I’ve been trying to help you but, I knew you wouldn’t accept it unless you had no other choice. I knew she…” She sends a glare your way, “…would always be in your ear. She was all you ever spoke about, I needed to get her out of the way so, you could start focusing on you.”

“She has a name you crazy bitch…” Jimin lets out a humorless laugh, helping you to your feet, “She has a name and, a life and, people who love her and, you…” He points a finger in her face, “…you tried to take that from her. How many people have ended up in your basement huh?! How many lives have you ruined?!”

Her expression shifts to one of pure malice, a devilish smirk appearing on her lips, “Why don’t you ask your little girlfriend?” She turns her gaze towards you, “Tell him, tell him how many skeletons you found beneath my house.”

This angers you.

Initially, you didn’t understand.

You didn’t understand the significance of running into Noah that night.

You didn’t understand why he offered to call you a Taxi.

You didn’t understand why the driver intentionally missed your turn.

And after you were knocked out, you didn’t understand why you were brought to this place.

The big house.

But now, it makes sense.

This pathetic excuse of a woman, gets off on kidnapping the less fortunate.

She breeds new monsters in the process, taking their loved ones and capitalizing off of their grief.

She takes them in and, turns them to stone.  

“You wanted them to think I was dead…so you could convince them to leave their lives behind.” Your voice isn’t a hundred percent but, your gaze is steady as it pierces into her.

She chuckles despite the knife being pressed to her throat, “Hmm so it does have a brain. I knew I couldn’t convince Jimin to work for me unless I broke his heart first. Men are much easier to manipulate when they feel like they have nothing left.”

Taehyung practically snarls, “Let’s waste this bitch, we can tell the police that-“

Lady’s cackle is abrupt, her eyes crinkling with delight, “The police! Ha! The police work for me, why do you think they never looked for your little friend hm? They knew where she was, I pay them a pretty penny to keep their mouth shut.”

Another almost cartoonish voice interrupts the conversation as it crackles over the intercom, “Mam is everything alright in there? We heard a commotion.”

Shit.

It’s one of the guards.

Jungkook is prepared to fight, he looks around for a weapon and, grabs the hammer from the floor.

“Noah! No everything is not ok! It seems as though my guests have overstayed their welcome…” She seethes before another smile appears on her lips, “Kill them…”

Jimin grabs you immediately, pushing you behind him and, Taehyung’s grip tightens on Lady’s waist, keeping her in place.

“Uhhh yeah I don’t know who the fuck Noah is but, uh-  oh wait! Yah, Hoseok! Isn’t Noah the one you hit with the Range Rover?”  

The voice morphs again and, you actually laugh at the sound of Yoongi’s voice echoing through the speaker.

“Holy shit…” Jungkook chuckles in disbelief

“That scrawny little blonde dude??” Hoseok’s voice literally warms your heart as it reaches your ears, “Yeah he’s out like a light sorry, anyone else you’d like to speak to?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Lady hisses, panic settling into her senses, “I’ll have the police here in minutes, you’ll be thrown in prison for the rest of your lives!”

“Ouch, we were afraid you’d say that. See, but the thing is, we destroyed all of your fancy ass cameras but, we left the audio running so…” Jin’s voice chimes in next, explaining her demise, “the only thing the police will hear is a taped confession, you wrinkly ass bitch. And let me just say my dear, you look like your pussy is covered in dust and, that’s why you’re going down, all because you thought you might get some dick...pity.

Jin’s insult causes laughter to move through the four of you and, you can’t help but, feel moved at how dedicated your friends are.

“You filthy bastards, you better get your grimy hands off of my cars before, I add grand theft auto to your long list of charges.”

They laugh hysterically on the other end of the line before; Namjoon speaks up, “Ok boomer.”

In the next moment, Lady takes advantage of the distraction and, quickly lunges at you, her hands going for your neck but, before she can reach you, she’s knocked out of the way by Jungkook.

It’s an instinctual reaction but, it does the job

Because instead of landing on you, Lady falls down the hole in the floor to the cellar.

The four of you rush over to the entrance to see her body laying still at the bottom of stairs.

There is a bit of silence before you speak up, staying close to Jimin, “What do we do?”

He smirks, wrapping an arm around you, “Leave her. Let her die alone with her all nice shit.”

Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon and, Jin rush in finally and as soon as they spot you, they sigh out in relief.

“Oh my god.”

“You’re ok.”

“We knew we’d find you. Fuck, we missed you so much.”

“If you ever get kidnapped again, I will beat your ass.”

You just smile, giggling at their comments, holding them close.

“Thank you for looking for me. I love you guys so much.”

Yoongi nods to the cellar door and, him and Jimin exchange glances, “Here.” Yoongi tosses him a small black hard drive which Jimin catches seamlessly, “Throw that down there too. It’s the audio from tonight…”

The rest of you aren’t sure how they managed to do it.  

But, those questions are reserved for later.

Right now, you just want to get out of there.

Jimin smirks, standing over the edge of the hole in the floor before dropping it in, relishing in the sound it makes as it clatters down the steps.

“Should we call the police?” Hoseok asks, slightly breathless from all the excitement.

“Why would we?” Yoongi grins, shrugging his shoulders, “Girls like her disappear all the time…”

“Good point.” Jin nods returning his grin, and everyone’s eyes are still trained on the hole in the floor.

You aren’t sure if she’s dead but, you’re hoping she isn’t.

She deserves to spend the rest of her life suffering for what she did to you, for what she did to so many others…

“What happened to the guards?” You ask, lacing your fingers with Jimin and, he responds by tightening his grip on your hand.

“We knocked em out. They’re tied up in the garage.” Namjoon remarks coolly

“Let’s get out of here. We need to leave town for few days until the police figure everything out.” Taehyung says, finally dropping the knife to the floor.

“Good thing we have a ride then…” Hoseok holds up the keys to the Range Rover and, the eight of you are giddy with the promise of freedom.

Jungkook stays close to Namjoon and, as rest of you exit the house; he spots movement in the corner of his eyes.

Near the coat rack, sits a long-haired white Persian cat.

Jungkook can’t help himself.

If he isn’t going to kill this terrible woman, he’s at least going to take her cat.

Hit her where it hurts you know?

“Hyung…” He stops Namjoon and, he looks confused for a moment until he spots what Jungkook is pointing out.

Jungkook doesn’t wait to reach out to the furry creature, “ Here kitty kitty.”  

The cat rubs against his hand, tiny purs erupting from it’s mouth and, Jungkook smiles as he takes it into his arms.

Namjoon smirks fondly at the two of them before his eyes light up when he sees the name engraved on the cat’s golden collar.

“Cognac.” He breathes and, he and Jungkook share a moment as they exit the house.

The eight of you pile into the Range Rover, with Jin in the driver’s seat and, immediately, you find yourself beside Jimin.

“I thought I lost you…” He whispers desperately, placing a few kisses to your lips.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper back, smiling into his lips before leaning forward to make an announcement to the rest of the car, “Hey guys uh…I think I have a way we can leave town for a bit.”

“How?” Hoseok furrows his brow, leaning around Jimin to see you.

“With this…” You grin and, from the middle of your bra, you pull out several bundles of money, each of them labeled $20,000.

You left the bones in the cellar for the police to find.

But the money?

The money, you took with you.

The police wouldn’t need it for their investigation right?

The seven of them look at you in shock before Yoongi lets out a sound you’ve never heard him make before; it’s pure unfiltered joy.

“Oh fuck yeah…”

Plage de Maeva, Tahiti- Two Months Later

Justice came in pieces.

It started with Cognac and, the massive fortune Lady left behind; both of which were returned to their rightful owner, the man at the river.

Then came Jaebeom; the eight of you dropped off a few thousand for him at the club, along with your findings.

A different precinct responded to the distress call from Lady’s home.  

She survived the figurative fall yes but, the fall from grace that would soon follow completely destroyed her.

She was brought in on 9 counts of first degree murder, 7 counts of kidnapping, stalking, conspiracy to commit fraud and, a myriad of other charges.  

The suits were brought in as well and, suffered similar fates.

Between them, 293 years of prison was to be served.

The staff at the motel, the patrons of the Chamomile Country Club and, even Clementine herself were all publically humiliated when the news broke of Lady’s true nature.

She had been paying them all for their silence.

No charges were brought against them but, their statuses as pariahs seemed fitting enough.

The news came to all of you quite late because, you were far too busy enjoying your own personal victories…on an island called Tahiti.

520,000 was certainly enough to get you out of town and, by the looks of it, you may never return…

“Every second, every minute, man I swear that she can get it Say if you a bad bitch put your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high Tell 'em dim the lights down right now, put me in the mood I'm talking 'bout dark room, perfume Go, go!”  

Yoongi’s voice echoes loudly with the help of his microphone as he raps the lyrics to a rather befitting song by Kendrick Lamar.

It was karaoke night on the rooftop of your resort and the eight of you, along with your loved ones are enjoying every second of it.

Hoseok rushes on stage with Yoongi, laughing as he does, “I recognize your fragrance (hol' up!) You ain't never gotta say shit (woo!) And I know your taste is A little bit (mmm) high maintenance (ooh) Everybody else basic You live life on an everyday basis with-“ He holds the mic out and, the rest of you scream the lyrics with beaming smiles.

“POETIC JUSTICE, POETIC JUSTICE- IF I TOLD YOU A FLOWER BLOOMED IN A DARK ROOM WOULD YOU TRUST IT?”

Jimin is behind you, with his arms secured around your waist, giggling through the words.

He’s euphoric at the moment, he’s never been so happy in his entire life.  

Namjoon hits the stage next, and the song continues with the help of your friends and the crowd,

“I mean I write poems in these songs dedicated to you When you're in the mood for empathy, there's blood in my pen Better yet where your friends and them? I really wanna know you all I really wanna show you off Fuck that, pour up plenty of champagne Cold nights when you curse this name….”

Jungkook and Taehyung are at the front of the crowd hyping them up whilst Jin sings loudly with his fiancée.  

The next part Jimin croons into your ear, tightening his grip on you as the words have so much meaning:

“And anytime…” He sings, kissing into your neck, “You can get it, you can get it, you can get it, you can get it- And I know just know just know just know just what you want…poetic justice, put it in a song, alright.”  

You turn in his arms then, kissing him deeply, pouring everything you have into it.

“You kept your promise.” You whisper, grinning against his lips.

“My promise?” He giggles, kissing you back, his eyes deep with emotion.

You cup his cheek, biting your lip as you hold back your tears, “The night I disappeared, you promised me, we’d get our break…”

His smile widens and, rather than use his words, he just kisses you again.

Because, he can.

Because, you’re safe.

Because, you’re his.

The rooftop is a place you often end up.  

It’s a little cliché, you think: a bunch of rich kids corralled onto a fancy ass resort building on a tropical island, the waves crashing in the background.  

But you and your friends aren’t ordinary rich kids.  

The worst any of you has ever done is rob an old lady’s house, push her down the stairs, leave her for dead and, then ruin her life but…

To be fair…

That bitch deserved it.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

frENEMIES, pt.4 {Quarterback AU}

Summary: Grayson wants to talk, but Y/N is too busy running to realize her fears are deceiving her. Enlisting a reluctant Ethan for help gives Grayson a chance to maybe, just maybe convince his sneaky little princess to see he’s ready to try and change.

Warnings: angst, swearing

Part one  Part two  Part three

She never understood football or the hype that came with it, never really cared at all to even try and find out what made her dad so passionate about every game that it made his whole week if his team won, nor her old friend who wanted to play football professionally. She had less understanding for the way they treated the players like royalty, how they praised their womanizing ways or the conspicuous amounts of money they earned only to buy the most ridiculous cars or watches, or simply on parties and strippers.

She never bothered to get involved and perhaps she never would had she not met Grayson Dolan, the quarterback, her frenemie, her most coveted dream and most hellish nightmare. 

Watching Grayson play for the first time had both made her heart race and stop, her breath fast and shallow but it also made it stop in her lungs. She had never worried as much about someone, never cheered for someone to win (though it would mean she lost), never had she screamed so much in her life and all because she found herself immersed in every play Grayson was a part of, every single move and every single touchdown he made.

But what really got her wasn't the game, rather his passion and perseverance and especially when he looked straight at her, finding her right where he left her before the game, only to point the ball at her minutes before he made the winning touchdown. She knew it was for her, somehow, she just knew. And that's when Y/N Y/L/N learned the ultimate, horrifying truth - she didn't hate Grayson Dolan, not even a little, not even at all. If anything, she had channeled all her jealousy and frustration and well, genuinely fucked up shit she dealt with because of him, and she unleashed hell upon him.

Yet, he came back for more each time. In hindsight, she realized he's probably crazy, a masochistic, but so is she. Still, when it came down to it, she ran. She ran as fast as she could and she didn't dare look back.

A part of her hoped he'd run after her, catch up and make her stay, kiss her like the world is ending in the pouring rain. She wanted him to come for her, but no one ever did. In a way, she's used to it.

Amina chose Ethan, Grayson will choose the other women or football, it's just the way it is. She isn't enough for anyone, she never was. Perhaps it's her anxiety and depression lurking again, but she always feared that she wasn't enough - wasn't pretty enough, funny enough, smart enough, artsy enough, interesting enough,...simply not good enough to ever be someone's endgame, regardless if it was friendship or romance. What else could she think as she had settled in her early twenties and only ever had one kiss and it was a drunken kiss from a guy who literally fucked anyone with tits and a heartbeat?

Staying low for the next few days was hard, especially when she found herself hiding from the most popular guy on campus and no matter where she went, Grayson magically appeared soon after.

She didn't know he spent days looking for her, telling everyone who sees her to text him her location but he always got there just a few seconds too late and he soon realized it was always his problem - timing and lack of effort.

Everything he did in the past years was to forget about the girl he thought hated him, but it clearly never worked. She's not the type you ever forget and it took him too long to realize he didn't want to spend the rest of his life wondering what would have happened if he tried...if he at least tried.

"Can you just do this for me?" After a week of being ignored, Grayson had enough. He couldn't handle only catching glimpses of her back as she walked away from him or the ignored messages he sent. He just wanted five minutes with her.

"The last time you asked me to do something for you, I ended up losing all my fucking hair. You said nothing bad would happen. You said it would be fun." Pulling his beanie off, Ethan had lost his sarcastic filter and went straight for the screaming part. "BEING BALD ISN'T FUN GRAYSON!"

"It wasn't my fault!" Throwing his hands in the air, Grayson groaned loudly before reaching for his phone.

"You gonna help your bro or do I have to bring in the big guns, huh?" The erratic taping of his fingers on his iPhone matched the crazed look in his eyes and Ethan already knew what's happening.

"Seriously?! You calling ma’ on me, now?!"

"Not if you do the right thing and ask Amina to convince Y/N to give me a chance to talk." Waving his phone with a snicker, Grayson raised his eyebrows victoriously when he saw Ethan cave before he said a single thing.

"We really need to find a better way of solving these disagreements."

**

Y/N paced whenever she was nervous. It was either that or tapping her foot which usually earned her a visit from her downstairs neighbor, so it was best to alleviate her anxiety by pacing even if it made her dizzy.

There were a number of things she wanted to tell her best friend, to apologize though she did so a hundred times by now. And it tore her to bits to know her friend chose a guy over her, but she was willing to work things out. Not many people understand her, nor do they stick around when shit hits the fan, but Amina was the only constant in her life since she came to campus. For Y/N, losing Amina was like losing a sister and she wasn't too proud to admit it.

Some people would always do the right thing, regardless of who they end up hurting in the end. Y/N was never that person and while it may not paint her in the best light, she’d be the one you can come to with blood on your hands and all she’d do is grab a shovel and help you dig. Perhaps that’s why she couldn’t really understand Amina and the way she abandoned her. If it were the other way around, no guy would ever be worth their friendship.

It wan’t a pleasant feeling - knowing you’re replaceable. 

However, when a knock interrupted her obnoxiously loud pacing, she drew in a deep breath in hope of finding bravery everyone seemed to think she naturally possessed. But she didn't. She was perpetually scared of a great number of things and being alone was one of the main ones. She never felt as alone as she did in the past week and the feeling had gnawed on her sanity.

With a shaky hand, she grabbed the metal knob, shaking her head one last time before opening the door to face her friend. Her heart felt like it would explode as she caught sight of the person on the other side, the fabulous hair he threads his fingers through being the first thing she notices. 

All she wanted was to make up with her friend and let the past stay in the past. Little did she know it was yet another elaborate attempt of her frENEMY to get close to her.

"YOU?!"

Tags: @mendesficsxbombay​​​​ @beinscorpio​​​​ @peacedolantwins​​​​ @dolandolll​​​​

PART 5