#luckily the last two are super little in comparison but

[sehtoast]

me: MY HAIRLINE IS RECEDING OH NO OH FUCK

also me: full time student (worth noting i wrote stupid here at first without realizing), 20-30 hours in customer service every week, teaching myself 3/4 classes, teaching myself advanced algebra with a teacher (basically just a proctor) who shuts down any/all asks for help, juggling college financial woes, navigating dying relationships/people abandoning and/or attacking me bc i don't have time for things i used to anymore, none of my hobbies are making me happy when and if i have time for them,, i have no time for myself, i'm on my second all-nighter this week, i'm perpetually exhausted in a way sleep isn't fixing, my body aches because i'm so tired, and i'm barely able to stay asleep when i do get the chance bc the anxiety wakes me up

my hairline: two hops this time!

[suzuran777]

Lamento stageplay news + visuals

Just one more day left until the live performancs of the Lamento stageplay start! The stageplay was of course already announced last year, but as they finally started tweeting the countdown pictures, I wanted to write a blog post about the visuals and information they've released so far, comparing some of the stageplay visuals to the official game illustrations!

Similar to the DRAMAtical Murder (DMMd) and sweet pool stageplays, the Lamento stageplay will also have different routes for each main character, Asato, Bardo and Rai. I'm going to assume that the first half of the stageplay will be some kind of common route, while the second half focuses on the route of each different character. Something that is new is that this time the stageplay will have "musical elements" as well, so I'm not sure if I should call it a stageplay or a musical (I'm just using "stageplay" this time as the official account also seems to call it that). Even though in the game Konoe's song is just a melody, the actors did tweet about singing, so I am curious what they will do!

Ohyama Yoh, who composed 19 of the 37 songs of the Lamento original soundtrack also tweeted that there will be 11 new songs (+ addictional background music). I think it's super cool that they're working together with the original composer again to create new songs for the stageplay! I remember the DMMd stageplay also had a new song by GOATBED, which they even performed live a few times at the end of the show. The previous stageplays were about two hours long, but this time they mentioned it will be at least 3 hours, which makes sense because Lamento is a lot longer than sweet pool and DMMd.

I'm really impressed by the costumes and wigs so far, the ears and tails also look so fluffy... I really wonder what they will look like in motion and what the battle scenes will look like. Most of the visuals of the individual characters they've released so far seem to be based on the in-game sprites, but what I found interesting is that Rai's, Asato's and Bardo's pictures seem to have the same pose as the Kotobukiya figurines! You can see the comparison below, the pictures of the figurines are from the Kotobukiya official website.

Another new visual which was released quite recently seems to resemble another official illustration, which I've seen in the artbooks before and which was also the cover of magazine B's Log, specifically the December 2006 issue. Some of the details are a bit different, for example Konoe is not holding Leaks' mask in his hand anymore, and this time they added Shui to the illustration as well, but some other things such as Bardo's pose make it quite obvious this picture was their inspiration. The way Shui and Leaks stand next to each other kind of reminds me of the Rhapsody to the Past drama CD as well? One thing I noticed is that they're not really trying to hide Leaks' face this time, which was actually quite a big reveal in the game.

Next are some of the other illustrations they recently showed us during a short livestream which was available on Twitter for a limited time. Luckily they also posted the pictures on the official account! These won't be sold as merchandise, but they're given away as a bonus for those who attend all three versions of the show. I guess one thing I never noticed before is how little promotional/extra art Bardo got back then, so in this case they had to use one of his in-game CGs. For the other characters they mostly seem to use some of the extra/promotional art. Anyway, you can see a comparison below! I think it's fun to see how they re-created the pictures with the actors.

The last picture they recently showed during the Twitter livestream uses the cover illustration of the official world guidebook! Unfortunately no Bardo in this one either. This is one of the items they are selling as merchandise, it seems to be some kind of booklet (they call it a "pamphlet" but it's 32 pages long). I really wish they would sell the merchandise online, but for now it's only accessible for those who have a ticket and who buy it inside the venue. Maybe if they have any extra stock they might sell it online?

Update: The stageplay will also be livestreamed on DMM TV! The ticket to watch all three routes is 10000 yen (about 66 USD, which is cheaper than the in-person tickets at least!) which also gives you some special bonus videos to watch. First is Bardo's route on February 24th, followed by Asato's and Rai's routes on February 25th. Be aware that it is region locked and not all VPNs work, so unfortunately I can't help much with that! For any further updates you can check the official Twitter account!

Cast list: Konoe: Maejima Yoh Rai: Kato Sho Asato: Hiraga Yusei Bardo: Seto Yusuke Razel: Kimisawa Yuki Kaltz: Okamoto Yuki Verg: Iwata Tomoki Froud: Muramatsu Koki Kagari: Asaba Maya Tokino: Fukuzawa Taiga Firi: Kita Tsutomu Kil: Yoshun Sakamoto Ul: Arai Yuya Shui: Osaki Natsuki Leaks: Matsui Yuho

[filthforfriends]

Glass Houses

Read parts 1 - 4 of DILFiano on my Masterlist

CW: Morally grey age gap and power dynamics.

Word count: 4.9k

Three hours: barely a respectable amount of time to party hop with your friends before asking to go home. It’s not like you didn’t have a good excuse: they wanted to drive over an hour to some bougie party in the hills. Icarus liked to use her dad's name to get into events every now and then, just for the thrill of it. Most of you were leaving for college on Monday anyway. This was one last hoorah. 

“I just feel super nauseous.” The statement was an excellent way to get home because no one wanted you in their car. 

“You better not puke, or I swear to god…” Icarus threatened

“It’s just nerves about the move. I’m struggling to remember why I wanted to attend college on the other side of the country.”

“You had like two sips of punch, anyways,” slurs Elliot.

“Fuck you,” playfully shout towards the backseat. “Someone needs to take care of your ass when you have alcohol poisoning!”

“Hey, I’m on your side!” protests Moxy.

“Oh, I’m sorry, love!” You blow kisses in her direction, both tacky and affectionate. 

“Is it okay to just drop you off at mine? Or do you need me to take you home?” Your heart jumps at the prospect of spending time in the David’s home. Pretending you were on this little adventure for Icarus was morally exhausting. It’s not that you didn’t care about your friend, but because the globe had shifted its axis. Your world now revolves around Damia. Ingesting various substances, dancing until you broke a heel, and stumbling back to your car at dawn was totally ineffectual in comparison to him.

“You can drop me at yours, I don’t want to deal with getting my car tomorrow morning. Ugh! I’m just fucking tired for some reason.” You were wide awake and so impatient you couldn’t even disguise it. Luckily everyone’s attention was on Google Maps.

“Just crash at mine like we were going to do anyway,” Icarus offers. “And we’ll be home…” She looks back at Elliot, who’s scanning the directions on his phone. 

“It’s an hour and 23 minutes away,” he supplies.

“Okay we’ll probably just sleep there then.”

“Sick! I’ve always wanted to spend the night in the hills!” Moxy is excited to cross something off her stereotypically L.A. bucket list. You try to be happy with her, but internally you’re counting the trees as they pass. While your physical form is trying to plaster a smile on her face in the passenger seat of Icarus’ G-Wagon, your mind is already at the David’s house. Biding your time on the ride was unbearable. You wanted to crawl out of your skin or just feel the dry desert air on your face as the wind rushed by. 

The sound of the tires changed as Icarus turned from asphalt, to her smoothly paved driveway. You wanted to jump out of the car and sprint while the SUV rolled forward.

“Wait, what is the turn off again?” She whipped around, coordinating with Elliot.

“Uh, shit, let me check. I screen shot the directions in case my battery gets low.”

“You can just charge it.”

“I forgot my phone charger,” he groans, and Moxy rolls her eyes.

“I literally texted you –”

“Okay, okay!” He holds up his hands defensively. Elliot had smoked too much random weed at the second party and was jumpy as a result. It was a risky move, just taking whatever was offered with no questions. Sometimes you’d be fine and others you’d want to rip your eyebrows off.

“Are you playing nice back there?” Icarus called. 

“Can I get out?” Keeping the urgency out of your voice was impossible.

“Huh, what?” 

“The car is still moving,” you snap.

“Oh shit,” she puts it in park. A good person would make sure Icarus was absolutely fine to drive. A good person would make sure all their dumbass friends ended the night safely. A good person would put aside their own personal needs for the sake of others, but that had been your entire life. Tonight you weren’t going to be a good person, you were going to seduce your friend’s dad.

Hopping out of the car, you exchange various expletive ridden farewells. The wave of relief at watching your friends drive off was like fully exhaling for the first time tonight. How freeing it was to be in the company of someone you didn’t have to take care of.

Damia had the house to himself, now. Alexander stayed at his mothers apartment so his older sister could have a going away party. You wanted to know how exactly Damia came to chaperone. Did he volunteer? Were you on his mind every waking moment too?

After your meeting a week and a half ago, Damia hadn’t called or texted. You waited in rapture for the first four days, then gave up hope. A grown man isn’t going to chase after you like a teenage boy would. You’d have to earn that reverence. Holding it against him wouldn’t be fair, anyways. Chiara would probably use your relationship against Damia in court, trying to win sole custody of Alexander. She seemed like the type to play dirty, and with a heart as pure as Damia’s, that was reprehensible.  

The house was dark, so you kicked your shoes off on the welcome mat instead of the tile, that way your arrival didn’t echo through the silent house. It felt early to you, but the kitchen clock read 12:07am. He must be asleep. You go to the trouble of depositing your belongings in Icarus’ room for appearances sake, before tip-toeing to the otherside of the house. Damia’s bedroom door didn't squeak when you opened it, the whole home was well-oiled and in perfect working order. 

However, you could sense that Chiara’s presence here was waning. All of Damiano’s eclectic art she’d managed to arrange in an orderly fashion stood on its own. No longer balanced between a neutral-toned painting and a perfectly proportionate end table, the heavy colors of a disfigured facade leered at you from across the hall. Up until today, you’d thought the bust was of a humanoid face. Now it was so clearly a mask, crazed eyes boring through wind-warped wood from the other side of some secret.

 Another painting had been moved from Damia’s office to the living room. The piece was both gory and abstract, radiating deviant energy. There were no mangled figures, but the blood red paint had been applied to look like straining muscular ligature.  In fact, all the paintings that had newly achieved pride of place were disconcerting, which you realized, was the point. In an effort to find himself, Damia must first be uncomfortable in the world around him. He was too beloved for anyone to do that to Damiano except himself. 

Walking into his bedroom, you found the space above the headboard surprisingly baren. At 15 years old, you'd snuck a peek during a dinner party. There was nothing remarkable about it. The David’s had an under-stated European style. Given how Damia had centered his sexual charisma as a musician, you’d expected plenty of nude imagery ranging from sensual to erotic. Hell, maybe even attachments for restraints on the bed. However none of this was true, and you’d shut the door, fearful of getting caught. All you could recall was the absence of things, but had no memory of what the master bedroom looked like.

In a room lit only by artificial light sleeping through the window, it was hard to decisively observe anything. After closing the door, you became distracted by the books. First and second editions of Maya Angelou, Willian Carlos Williams, Walt Whitman, Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf, Allen Ginsberg, and others whose names you didn’t recognize. There's a sensuality in your fingers running down every spine, as if caressing their drug addled ramblings.

Of course your eyes then fall to Damia. No one is more angelic when they slumber or more evocative of sin when they wake. The dark washes us clean. Maybe you and Damia could stay up all night together.

“Hey,” you whisper. He doesn’t stir and after a moment you're glad you haven’t woken him up. He lays on his side and you lift the covers, scooting in behind him. It wasn’t an unfamiliar position. You always rose first at sleepovers, even in elementary school. The boredom of waiting was hellish, but not now. Nothing could hold your attention more completely than the even rise and fall of Damiano’s ribcage as he breathed peacefully. In such close proximity, you could see he was shirtless and propped yourself up on one hand to admire him. The muscles of his pecs were relaxed as were his biceps. All this beautiful body resting easily, folded in on itself. 

You lay back down before the urge to run your hands on his warm, freckled skin becomes overwhelming. Testing the limits, heart racing, you put the pad of a single finger on  Damiano’s back and hold your breath. As far as you can tell he’s still sleeping. You scoot closer so certain places are just barely brushing against his body: knee, forehead, stomach, the back of your left hand. You imagine Damiano had invited you into bed with him, that you’d fallen asleep together like this, maybe after a night of love making. You press your lips to his spine, then can’t bring yourself to pull away.

Damia startles and flips over suddenly. The glass house you’ve built in your mind is shattered.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me!” he heaves, hand to his chest. The mortification sets in. This wasn’t the slow, sensual wake up call you’d be hoping for, with kisses and gentle touches. Of course it wasn’t, because you were an 18 year old girl and a near stranger in his bed.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Damiano reaches over you for his phone and for a moment he’s held above you so intimately it makes your cunt throb. After a few taps his sighs and lays back on his bed, disposition changed. 

“I take it Icarus is with her phone?”

“Yeah, of course! I wouldn’t – fucks sake I wouldn’t do this if there was any risk of be found.” It's then that the reason for Damiano startling occurs to you. “Oh shit, you thought I was Chiara for a sec.” You sit up, weight resting on your hip and left hand. Looking down at him felt so casual, a snapshot into a fantasy life.

“No, no. We haven't shared a bed in almost a year. This bed,” he pats the mattress on either side of him, “is brand new. I’d like to sell the house, but…it’s not the priority right now.”

“Alexander.” Damiano was trying to give some consistency to his son. He nods and puts his arm behind his head. His tattoos stretch across his skin. The claw of a sprawling dragon pierces the head of a sphinx because Damia hadn’t coordinated between tattoo artists. He says he prefers it this way.

“You’re a good father.” Damia snorts and you realize immediately why that might not have been the best comment.

“Oh am I?” God he’s gorgeous. His happy trail is dense because Damia’s body hair spans his lower stomach. It also partially conceals the coiled serpent on his sternum, and reaches across his pecs. You’d never slept with a man who had adult body hair. It must tickle. Everywhere.

“You could move to a different room? That should be a manageable amount of change.”

“The guest bedroom is right next to the kitchen, though,” he wrinkles his nose. Moving Icarus’ bedroom likely wasn’t on the table either.

“What about an add-on to the studio? Expand the bathroom, add a bedroom, and make all the Swedish producers sleep in here?” 

“You know, that’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Sleep in the guest bedroom when Alexander has friends over.”

“So I can hear all the nefarious activities happening in my house,” he chuckles, nodding. “You're full of good ideas.” He extends a hand to your knee, face thoughtful. “You know what the issue here is though? You’re better at these conversations than my peers.” His words are the sweetest, most delicious, most unbearable torture.

“Damia, you can trust my discretion.”

“I trust you as much as I can possibly trust an 18 year old, since I’ve been one.” You don’t like this answer and he can see it. “Where is Icarus tonight?”

“Getting drunk an hour and a half away in the Hollywood Hills and spending the night. Probably will be too hung over to get home before 4pm.” Damia is bargaining with himself and visibly gives in.

“You can’t spend the night in my bed, but we can cuddle for a bit.” Is cuddling what he called tucking Icarus into bed? Or did he say something else like snuggle? Is cuddling what he called his caresses with Chiara? Which role are you: daughter or wife? You are neither. 

“Also please don’t tell my daughter that I have a tracker on her phone. It’s for her own safety, but –”

“I understand.”

“Of course you do. This’ll be our secret too.” There was no earthly thrill like keeping a secret with Damia, because it created an intimacy that couldn’t be denied. Even if neither of you named it, that tether was made stronger. You wanted thousands of secrets with him, to drown in all the promises you made and kept like your life’s purpose. 

You scoot closer, putting off the moment where this touch could feel parental rather than romantic. It was far worse: contrived. As you lay down on his chest, Damiano’s smell was everywhere: his bedsheets, his pillows, his skin. It was the perfect encapsulation of his sex appeal: mature, masculine, refined. His arm wrapped around your back, fingertips dragging up and down your side. The sensation made every hair stand on end and you shivered. Damia chuckled which broke the awkwardness. 

Feeling a little shy now, you turn your face against his skin and get a whiff of body odor. For some reason you want to hide how hard your nipples are, like there was any point in decency now. The hand strewn across his chest comes alive, holding onto Damia’s ribcage. The deep breaths aren’t really enough. Some part of you wants to bite into the muscle of his pec to feel it in your mouth, dig our fingernails into his skin and drag him across the bed. Consume him whole. It’s so carnal that you don’t recognize yourself.

“Pheromones. The smell thing it's…you’ll grow out of it, I think.” Having your mind read by Damia evokes that forbidden, cherished memory under a vibrant sky. For the first time ever, you weren’t thinking of the kiss already. Damia falters in stroking your arm, eyes turned to the ceiling in thought as well.

“Then why is it so hard for you to hold back?” The outer corners of his eyes crinkle as Damia lets out a short laugh. He shakes his head, not at you, but at himself. He should have known you’d be capricious.

“You call this holding back? Hmm.” Damia brings you closer and presses his face to your scalp, breathing in deep. Mothers say the heads of their newborns smell sweet when making the same gesture. If not sweetness, then how did you smell to him?

“I’d say we’re doing a terrible job,” Damia whispers. Upon being released, you finally feel confident enough to give into the craving that nags you, throbs between your legs. Nuzzling his arm out of the way, you press your face into his exposed armpit.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize for your depravity, then take deep gasping breaths of Damia’s body odor. “Sorry,” you mewl, trying to scoot closer. His hair tickles your nose, lips, and cheeks. Damia lifts his arm, permitting easier access. You pet his armpit hair with trembling fingers and your knees bump his flank. Testing the limits, you open your legs and try to nudge his thigh in between. Only when he abides, do you realize why you want Damia positioned that way, why you want his thigh wedged as high up as you could get it.

“I’m sorry.” He shushes you soothingly. 

“Sweetheart, stop apologizing.” You stick the tip of your tongue into the hollow of his armpit and taste the salty skin, then lick upwards. Thankfully, he’s not ticklish, but your rapid breaths against his wet skin makes Damia shiver.

“I want you so bad,” you whimper. “And if you’d just – I’d be happy just to give you a blowjob or handy or anything. If you wanted I’d eat you out. God, I’d lick you clean after a run. I don’t even need you to touch me, because just knowing that I got to touch you…I’d be so thankful and I’d never ask for anything again. I’d take it to my grave, I promise.” This had devolved from propositioning into pathetic begging, but you really were that desperate. Damia looks pained when you want him aroused.

“Sweetheart, if this situation were different –”

“But it’s not. This is the situation.” There's a flicker, a candle fighting the wind. Deep down, a fraction of a fraction of Damiano is considering it. Maybe pity wasn’t the way to go. He was so confident, he probably was attracted to confidence in return.

“Sorry that was rabid, um...” You have to instigate because Damia can’t. But push a little too far, he’d shut down completely and ask you to leave out of guilt. You commit to a course of action, rolling over to the side of the bed and peeling off your tights. Damia’s eyes go wide in alarm. Instead of taking the rest off too, you kneel in front of him, wearing just panties and a skirt.

“I want you to feel how wet you make me.” 

“We can’t –”

“And I’m not asking you to do anything! I just want you to feel, just once. You don’t have to get me off, but I want you to know.” There's that flicker, no longer just one candle fighting the wind. 

“This is a horrible idea,” Damiano responds, propping himself up on an elbow. “I can’t believe I’m…” He extends his hand and you shift position, parting your legs to make room. You pull his wrist under the skirt and his fingertips bump right above the waistline of your panties. Before you can control the reaction, everything tenses in excitement, pussy pleading for you to give it something to squeeze down on. 

Damia’s gaze is knowing, but he doesn't break the asphyxiating sexual tension with a witty remark. He’s not going to invalidate this moment for either of you. Trying to read into that, you lower his hand a centimeter to your panties. Damia’s short fingernails catch on the elastic, but his eyes never leave your face. Rather than blush and turn away, you stare right back, pushing his fingertips past the waistband. 

Of his own volition, Damia slides his hand between your legs. His mouth falls agape, because you’re so wet he has to focus on not accidently slipping inside.

“Tesorina, I –” he touches you at a loss for words. Damia sighs in admiration at how warm and silky your pussy feels. Out of habit, he goes to apply pressure just outside your vulva with his pinky and pointer, while his middle and ring finger play with your pussy. He has to stop himself. You almost wish Damia was wearing a wedding ring so your body’s lubrication could loosen it.

“You feel lovely,” he purrs, pulling his hand back. You close your legs around his touch, clutching it between your thighs. It fits there so perfectly that you can’t help but rock against his palm. Both hands wrap around his wrist. A shameless part of you uses the grip to work back and forth against him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but mm please – don’t –”  Damia wedges his upturned hand firmly against your vulva. “Oh my god,” you mewl, careening forward.  You get fistfuls of the quilt and cry out, pelvis naturally finding a rhythm to rock against Damia’s hand.

“Ah mm, I’m sorry.” 

“Shh, stop apologizing,” he insists in a whisper. Damia isn’t even concealing the relief in his expression at you making this decision on his behalf. Testing the boundaries, you sit back on your heels and give Damia’s hand your weight. He applies firm upward pressure to counteract and your source of friction ends up being even more snug against your pussy.

“Fucking, fuck. Thank you,” you moan, grinding your clit against the heel of his hand.

“Right now, it's okay to listen to your body, tesorina.” Experimentally, Damia’s finger slides into the divot of your vaginal opening. He strokes your hymen in circular motions. Without using any pressure, Damia allows just the tip of his middle finger to slip inside. A car drives by and the headlights momentarily illuminate half of Dami’s face. You can’t tell if it's the half he shows the world, or the half he’s failing to hide from you. 

Captivated but conflicted, Damia drags the arousal up to your clit, middle finger dipping out of your hymen. Immediately you're grieving the lack of intrusion with a whine. Upon reaching the crest of your labia, he brushes back and forth in progressively smaller strokes. Damia uses a massaging motion around and on your clit. Rather than blindly picking a spot to rub, he allows the messy slickness of your pre-cum to inform his movements. 

At first you're in awe of his presion while so deep in thought. Until you realize that subconsciously, your hips were shifting to bring his touch to the best spot. Under all that focus, he was listening to your body’s minute signals. When Damia does find your clit, he puts it directly under his thumb and your hips buck violently. 

“Are you sure?” Something changes in the way he’s positioned. One of his fingers is extended and you falter as he presses it inside. It’s all you can do to nod. Head hung, your expression is corrugated by pleasure. He curls the digit against your g-spot and now your hands are pushing the blanket away, back arching, mouth falling open as your moan. 

“Hey, look at me,” Damia prompts “Are you really, really sure?” It’s absurd for him to expect an answer while he finally pleasures you. Maybe this isn’t an overwhelming amount of stimulation for some women, but you’re on the verge of full body trembles. Damia holds your clitorous between his fingers internally and externally and stays consistent, titrating the pressure up and down, trying to find that sweet spot for you. One hand tightens its grip on Damiano’s wrist as insurance. The other is planted in front of you, bringing your face closer to his.

“Sweetheart?”

“Yes.” Your intrepid confidence issues a scorching challenge. If this interaction ceases out of someone’s fear, it wasn’t mine. Because I am sure. You hold eye contact, gaze completely level. Equal. No longer a little girl in need of a replacement father figure. Damia returns your gaze, alarmed at your power, but also something like impressed. His pupils flit down to your lips. Eyes. Lips. Ridiculing himself. Lips, again.

“If you have the slightest doubt, tell me.” There's a sinking sensation in your stomach, not out of regret, but out of the knowledge of how wrong this was. It just made the whole thing more enticing; a door into the world of depravity that you coveted. People expected you’d spend your life as a righteous woman. Instead you wore a lacy thong under your skirt to seduce your best friend’s father when she was driving on the 405 tipsy. 

“If holding on to me feels good, that's fine, but I won’t pull away if you let go. I’m not cruel.” Damiano visibly makes the same kind of enduring moral concession. During which, his hand had stilled in the last few moments, but you didn’t have the decency to stop using it as a source of stimulation. It was an inexcusably filthy thing to do, hump Damia’s hand with so much vigor it made you sweat. It was fucked up. While Damia couldn’t bring himself to verbally encourage it, his eyes begged you not to stop. 

It was the briefest glimpse into the version of himself that Damia chained to the back of his mind, because it was a danger to his own reputation. A version of himself that sought out rules so his unquenchable rage had something to pulverize. That version of Damiano was allowed to fixate on the girl who fell to her knees in public and begged to blow him. He was allowed to accept the offer, and drag her back to the backseat of a car and have her ride his thigh. Both over and under the trousers, depending on which she liked better.

 “I know you’re desperate just from touching yourself, because sex toys are still embarrassing at your age. I could probably just buy you one, but…” he clicks his tongue at an intrusive thought and shuts his eyes. Jaw set, Damia carefully gets himself under control, but can’t stop the hand against your thigh from shaking. 

“I know you’re desperate because you’re so turned on that I can feel your heartbeat.” His fingers slowly curl towards your belly button as his thumb draws a straight line up your vulva. A breath gets caught in your chest, the pressure underneath your sternum threatening to become a scream. 

“Please, please, ” you babble, mouth falling open when he finds your clit again. With the plentiful pre-cum, Damia runs his fingers back down your pussy and inside. The reentrance makes a squelching sound from all the wetness and you cringe hard, eyes closed in embarrassment. 

“Shh, tesorina. Did you know most people have to use lube to get this wet? Hmm?” You had so much to learn. Why couldn’t he teach you? Damia’s fingering feels amazing, the slightest bit of delicious strain. You realize that he’d been using two. It’s more than you’d attempt so soon, but totally painless. Of course, Damia would know your body better than even you.

“How's that?”

“I didn’t think that I could take...but it feels mm.” You shift your hips side to side, exploring new sensations. 

“Of course you can,” he coos. Just as it had reflexively a minute ago, your body bears down out of a desperate craving for internal stimulation. This time you get to squeeze down on two thick fingers and that relief brings you to your forearms.

“Damia, oh my god,” you moan. At this point, you’re just breathing in your own hair where it falls around your face. Damia uses his spare hand to pull it from your mouth and tuck it behind your ear. Somehow, it's the most intimate thing he’s done today. 

“Do you want to try three?” No one had ever asked you that. It was counterintuitive to the goal of staying tight. It felt like you could take three. Maybe you’d really enjoy it, even if that was wrong. The stretch of two was deeply satiating. 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay if the answer is yes.” He sets his hand on your thigh and rubs up and down slowly.

“Yes,” you blurt, scooting your legs apart to create room. Damia works the third one inside much differently than the second. He starts with his pinky, just pushing the tip past your hymen. That’s easy after a couple passes, so he switches to using the pointer as the third finger. You’re frozen in anticipation for something you’d never allowed yourself to be interested in. When he pushes three inside you adjust your pelvis without thinking about it.

“See how you spread your legs to open your hips? It's totally intuitive. Never let anyone ignore your desires.” Listening attentively, you manage to integrate all three fingers to the last knuckle. It takes a little force from Damia, which just makes the whole thing hotter. The flat of your hand slams against the mattress in stimulation. A whine turns into a throaty moan that wasn’t supposed to escape.

“Mm, see? No one teaches women how good having your pussy stretched feels.” You’re nodding in agreement even though Damia hasn’t asked a question. He thrusts his fingers in and out at a relaxed pace. At some point during this exchange, Damia went from laying under to kneeling on top of the comforter to be closer. The hand stroking your flank was equal parts sexual and reassuring. 

“I could fit four fingers if I wanted too, hm? I could fit my whole hand, even. Would you like my whole hand inside you, tesorina?” You think about it, nod, and turn bright red. Even too embarrassed to meet Damia’s eyes, you can feel his smile. He’s thrilled at your honesty in this moment of self-discovery.

“Now I bet you didn’t know that about yourself until I asked. Here's the secret: most women love the way this feels. A woman, when she’s aroused, relaxed, and really wet because someone’s been patient with her, can fit more than just a cock. She can fit a cock and a finger, a cock and a toy. Never let anyone shame you for what it takes to feel full. It's your pleasure.”

Notes: No, that is not the end of the scene, however it is the end of my patience. My blog has been broken for months and it hasn't been fixed. For one, I can't tag people, hence the lack of taglist. PLEASE submit a help to Tumblr on my behalf. Yes, I know you're not supposed to, but I've resorted to annoying them into action. I'll post the rest once people can actually see my writing.

[slytherhys]

okay okay, i have one for your november prompts (also, thank you so much for doing these!!!)

elriel, F. "Academic rivals" and V. "Are you wearing my sweater?" mixed together. Bonus points if it's like, Hogwarts AU or something magical like that! 🥰

Again, thank you so much!!! i really love these

A/N: I was super excited to write this one and I really hope it's up to your standards! (Also, Elain might've been slightly inspired by Hermione Granger in this). Enjoy <3

TW: mature themes & strong language

Elriel - Hogwarts AU

Of all her classes, Elain had to admit History of Magic was the one she preferred the least. Professor Binns had a way of making everything sound dreadfully boring, often lulling Elain and himself to sleep; he often rambled about things that were of little relevance and, last but not least, they were in one of coldest classrooms in all of the castle.

But all of that paled in comparison to the one reason that had her heart beating frantically against her chest, the palms of her hands turn clammy, and adrenaline shooting up her spine. All due to the fact the Hufflepuffs shared this class with the Ravenclaws.

Now, Elain had no issue with the Ravenclaws, not really – she liked Dorian Havilliard and Declan Emmet just fine, and Yrene Towers was a dear friend of hers. No, her problem was with one man and one man alone: Azriel Rosehall, the one person in their year take seven N.E.W.T.S.

Apart from her, of course.

Elain wasn’t a competitive person, but something about him just made her tick. More so whenever he completely ignored her entire existence as if he wasn’t as aware of her presence as she was of his.

She let herself look at him, sitting just two rows ahead: his entire demeanour couldn’t have been more dismissive - body slumped against his chair, his hand constantly doodling on his notebook... Everything about him screamed indifference: at first glance, no one would peg him for the smart, motivated guy who actually enjoyed studying. Not with his mysteriously handsome appearance, his dark, hazel eyes and that smirk that hid more lies than it told.

And yet, he remained top of the class – right next to Elain Archeron.

The entire thing set her off, and the fact everyone kept looking at her with curious glances and soft whispers jut helped putting her on edge. Was he planning something? It wouldn't exactly be the first time and the way people kept adverting their eyes whenever she looked at them made her believe everyone was a part of a joke she had missed.

“And who, then, can tell me one of the reasons that lead to the Warlock’s Convention of 1709?” Professor Binns’ dry and reedy voice pulled Elain away from her thoughts, scowling as she watched Azriel raise his hand with quiet confidence. Before she could feel a flicker of annoyance, her own hand also shooting into the air. It was a matter of luck, really, and luckily for her, it was towards her sudden movement that the professor’s attention strayed to. “Miss Archeron?”

Elain hid her smug smile as she stood straighter, ignoring the inquisitive glances of her classmates. Even Binns frowned before cooling his expression. Mother, did she have something on her face? “Dragon Pox is an often-overlooked cause.” She said less confidently than what she had intended.

She swallowed dry, urging air inside her lungs once she noticed Azriel turning in his seat, his hazel eyes immediately pinning on her form for the first time that day. It wasn’t relief that Elain felt as his stormy gaze found her – not at all. It was annoyance. Repulsion, even.

She felt, rather than saw, his eyes trail down her figure and even though she was sitting, Elain felt the satin trail of his eyes on every inch of her skin. His eyes flared as he took her in and before Elain could ask him what his problem was, he raised an eyebrow, entirely too satisfied with himself. Their classmates’ whispers grew louder, but Elain was too focused on Rosehall to pay them any mind.

“There has never been any written account stating the Dragon Pox lead to the Warlock’s Convention.” He said simply, his eyes never darting away from her. Elain felt her cheeks heat, doubt a seedy companion taking form inside her mind. She knew there hadn’t been many written accounts, but there had been one – one she had found in the library just last night before she was being pushed against the shelf…

Nope. Not going there right now.

She glared at him, entirely too aware of the heat in her cheeks. “Just because you never read it, Rosehall, doesn’t meant it doesn’t exist.”

“Children, please-” Professor Binns tried to interrupt, but Elain knew from the glint in Azriel’s eyes that it was of no use. There was little in this world that could stop them from going head-to-head - nothing pleased him more than the defiance burning inside of her, and nothing pleased her more than contradicting his every word.

“And what of the fact wizards couldn’t tame the dragons?” He asked, his eyes once again flickering down. Elain frowned but said nothing as he went on. “And what of the risk of discovery? Those are provable facts.”

Elain tried – and most likely failed, if his amused expression was of any indication – not to show the irritation flaring through her veins. “The fact remains that despite them being the only certified facts, they are not the only ones.” She raised a brow, faintly aware of the defeated sigh coming from their professor. “The break of Dragon Pox in the later 17th century was one of the arguments mentioned by several of the wizards attending the convention.” She explained, completely aware she was playing with fire, openly teasing him about things meant to stay in the shadows as she added, “Something you can easily confirm yourself in the Library.” She added in a dismissive tone, not missing the way his eyes darkened. Her gloating was cut short when his eyes dropped down once again, a faint smile on his lips.

Seriously, what was-

“I suppose I can.” He said, his gaze clashing with hers in a way that made the breath in her lungs vanish. Elain was momentarily taken back - this was the closest thing to a victory they had ever agreed on. She frowned, unease coating her body as he feigned an innocent look and turned around. For some reason, people were still eyeing her with avid interest, their sticky curiosity adding to the churning in her gut.

Had she been confunded, maybe? Or maybe she was still asleep in her bed, having some kind of bizarre dream starring Azriel. It wouldn't be the first time, much to her dismay.

“Alright, that’s it for today.” Binns announced in a rather exhausted tone, his head already dropping on top of his desk for what Elain assumed was his 10th nap of the day. Everyone quickly gathered their things, leaving the room with amused expressions on their faces; no one was even trying to hide the fact they were clearly talking about her.

Doubt crept in. Had she stated the wrong fact? Mixed up her dates? It didn’t seem possible, but by the way everyone kept staring, she had to wonder. Even Professor Binns had eyed her with interest, and she couldn’t help but huff in frustration as she made her way out of the classroom, ready to get her mind off things.

Elain shook her head in a weak attempt at clearing her head. Maybe she should go down to Hagrid’s hut – she had promised to help him with the all the leftover pumpkins from Hallowe’en and maybe she could bake something for the Hufflepuff’s Common Room. She faintly remembered Elide mentioning an Astronomy quiz and she knew her friend would appreciate the-

The echo of footsteps trailed after her, and Elain cursed herself as she waited for him to come closer. And then she cursed herself for recognising his gait from afar. When had that happen?

Azriel was suddenly walking by her side, that stupid sinful smirk still plastered on his face. “Will I see you at the library tonight, Archeron?” He asked softly, a smile to his voice that Elain couldn’t quite understand. 

She kept walking, eyeing him cautiously through the corner of her eyes. She didn’t love the smile on his face, but she couldn’t say she hated it either. “Whatever are you on about, Rosehall?”

“Studying, of course.” He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head in such a cocky manner she almost rolled her eyes. Bastard.

“I’m sorry but I much rather study alone.” She quickly dismissed, sending him a tight smile before quickening her pace.

But her power walk was of little challenge to his long, powerful legs, and he was next to her in no time. “Is that so?” He asked with a nonchalance that made the hair on her neck stand up. She stopped, eyeing him with a bored expression.

“I’d think you’d know, considering I bested you at Herbology. And Potions.” Her smirk was all poison, but it faltered as his eyes darkened, his smirk turning feral.

Elain should’ve felt scared – Azriel was well known for his antics across Hogwarts – but she didn’t falter. Not even as he stepped closer, the feeling of his breath fanning against her cheek as threatening as it was alluring. Elain raised a brow, as if bored by his little intimidation act, even if her heart was raising havoc inside her chest.

Azriel pursed his lips, a thoughtful expression coming over his face. “And what about Defence Against the Dark Arts?”

Elain let out an annoyed huff, still not making a move to leave. And she should leave. She definitely should. “You only got that plus because the new professor has a crush on you.”

His chuckle was pure sin as he tilted his head, a pleased smile on his lips. Elain hoped she didn’t look nearly as affected as she felt. “I never took you for the jealous kind, Archeron.”

She rolled her eyes, even as she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. “Spare me.” She said, quickly resuming her walk in an effort to step away from his teasing, feeling relief take over her body as nothing but silence followed.

But the relief was short-lived. “And Astronomy?” He asked, and Elain went still as he approached her slowly, stopping until his lips were next to her ear. His voice dropped to a soft murmur, “I remember you quite enjoyed my help with Astronomy.” Elain felt her body run hot and cold, locking in place as she avoided his gaze. Unwelcome images of the dark library, of his delicious grunts as he thrusted inside her flashed through her mind, but she quickly shoved them away.

Elain cleared her throat, “A small mistake I must emend.”

He smiled, even if something else flashed in his eyes. “A mistake, was it?” He stepped in front of her, blocking her way once again.

“It’s one way to put it.” She lifted one shoulder.

“Oh?” He smirked again, looking completely indifferent as he leaned against the wall. “Enlighten me, then.”

Elain huffed, crossing her arms as she finally looked into his eyes. “Do you struggle with English as well? I understand now why you’re so set on studying with me, Rosehall.”

“Tell me, Elain.” He gritted out, his smirk dropping slightly as he stood up and stepped closer than necessary.

She ignored the warmth radiating from his body. “Well, I could also call it a lapse of judgement, I suppose.” She shrugged. “Maybe the result of too much studying and not enough sleep?” She raised her shoulders. "The possibilities are endless."

Azriel went still, his eyes darting around her face. Elain didn’t like the way they seem to see entirely too much. But they always did, didn’t they?

Elain sighed, all thoughts of baking quickly gathering dust in the back of her mind. This was not the place to have this conversation; not when students strolled around them, most paying entirely too much attention to whatever was going on between them. But nothing seemed to be able to stop Azriel, not as his jaw clenched; not as all humour fled from his face.

His voice was as calm as midnight, “Then what do you call last night?”

Elain felt herself blush, her cheeks heating under the weight of the memories playing inside her mind. The dark library, her panties stuffed inside her mouth, his calloused hands on her naked back as he bent her-

No.

Not this again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Azriel simply smirked, bending his head lower and lower until his lips remained a mere breath away from hers. Elain felt her breath catch, her eyes dropping slightly as she waited for…something. Anything. But Azriel never dared closed the space between them, instead reaching for a stray lock of hair and playing with it between his fingers.

Images of her hair wrapped around that hand as he-

Mother, she needed to go back to her dorm.

“Really?” He muttered, the question laced with a darkness that made her momentarily forget all about occupied halls and curious stares. Azriel smirked, sending a shiver down her spine. She felt like she was hanging on a precipice, anticipating whether his words would break her or save her from damnation. Azriel hummed. “Tell me, Elain. Is that my sweater you’re wearing?”

Elain felt her body go hot and cold, her eyes widening as the colour drained from her face. Oh, Mother, no. Please, don’t let her be this dumb.

Elain's head snapped down to look at her outfit, regarding her perfect uniform. Her skirt was pressed, her shoes were shining, and her knee socks were still standing. Everything looking perfect except-

Except for the blue and bronze colours painting her sweater instead of her usual yellow and black.

She had realised her sweater had felt looser that morning, but she hadn’t thought much about it. She had spent most of her night awake and through her sleep-hazed mind the only thing she had focused on was how comfortable it had felt against her skin, that familiar scent sending a zap of electricity down her spine. She now knew why, exactly, that was. It was his scent in his sweater - the sweater she had stolen from him when they finally left the library at 3 in the morning.

Her cheeks turned crimson as she stared up at him, pleading for his help. But Azriel simply grinned, shaking his head slightly as if enjoying her public misery.  

“You couldn’t have warned me sooner?” She whisper-shouted, feeling entirely too embarrassed to look anywhere else than his hazel eyes. Maybe she also really enjoyed staring into them, but that was beyond the point. “Everyone will know-“

“Would that be such a bad thing?” He interrupted her, and she was taken back by how serious he sounded. He had never, not once, shown any indication he had wanted something else – something more. Elain had never said anything herself, even if she felt like she was being eaten alive whenever she spotted him in the Great Hall, laughing at whatever Morrigan, or Amren said.

She had assumed he had preferred to keep the ruse of hating each other, even if they had started meeting in secret months ago.

Azriel had appeared next to her on a Friday night, mocking her for missing some random party for Potions homework and Elain had fought back with an equal remark - things had heated up to the point where nothing else seemed logical beyond kissing him until he couldn’t breathe.

Needless to say, they kept meeting every night.

No one knew. Not her friends, clearly not his friends, and they had never talked about changing that, but as Azriel grinned at her, effectively making her stupid little heart miss a beat, she wondered if maybe things were about to change.

“You want that O in Defence?” He smirked, standing straight again, his hands inside the pockets of his slacks as he looked at her, a dare glinting in his eyes. “Meet me today in the library.” He turned around, leaving her behind without another word - but not before saying over his shoulder, loud enough for everyone to hear, “And keep the sweater, Archeron. I like seeing you in my clothes.”

[pint4punt]

Does Rob Walton Have Buyers’ Remorse with the Broncos?

It’s a privilege owning an NFL Team. Such a privilege that only 32 of the most privileged mother fuckers on the planet get to call a franchise their own. Yet in the case of Rob Walton and the Walton-Penner Family Ownership Group, this purchase has aged about as poorly as an investment with Sam Bankman-Fried.

Between Sean Payton and Russell Wilson, this franchise has spent 3 First Round Picks, 3 Second Round Picks, and about a Quarter of a Million Dollars to build the worst team in the NFL. Having started 0-3, they are well on their way to their 8th consecutive season without a playoff appearance and Russ is under contract through 2029. Today we’ll take a look at all of the Broncos’ most recent woes (which is becoming a bit of a tradition on our page, see the links below for our previous Broncos’ takes laughing at their misfortunes).

What better place to start delving through the Broncos’ misery than:

Losing in Historic Fashion by Allowing the Most Points in a Game in 57 Years

To say the Broncos are off to a rough start would be the understatement of the century. Two seasons in a row, this team has come into the year with hopes of an offensive revelation to complement their (once) stout Defense. Last year it was in the form of former Super Bowl Champion Russell Wilson, this year in the form of former Super Bowl Champion Sean Payton. On paper that sounds like a combination that could set the league on fire. So what has that looked like so far?

In Week 1 they held the Jimmy G led Raiders to 17 points and lost a close one. Ok, a tight division game, nothing to panic about. Then in Week 2, they gave up 35 points after jumping out to a commanding (😉) 21-3 lead and lost a shootout to the Commanders’ team that Buffalo basically shut out last weekend. Well that’s a little concerning, but hey it’s still early. And then in Week 3, a little trip to Florida ended as most trips to Florida do: in complete disaster with everyone involved questioning all of their life choices.

To say the Dolphins blew out the Broncos hardly seems a fitting characterization of that ill-fated Week 3 Contest. It was more than Miami simply dominating Denver, they flat out gave them the Danny Masterson treatment. 10 Total Touchdowns, 726 total yards of Offense, and the only reason this wasn’t the worst loss of all time is because Mike McDaniel showed Sean Payton mercy…..eventually. We would be remiss if we didn’t also credit Vance Joseph for this defensive performance who rejoined the team as their DC after years of disappointing Broncos’ fans as a Head Coach! This humiliating loss of course led to

Payton Getting Chippy with Reporters

Maybe we’re wrong, but Sean Payton didn’t seem overly enthusiastic at his most recent post game presser. In fact, one might go so far as to say he didn’t want anything to do with the media in that moment. That may just be us speculating, but Payton was quick to cut off a reporter who simply wanted to highlight the significance of this historic occasion.

Which seems odd, given how chatty Payton was in his offseason interview with USA Today in which he called Hackett’s stint as Denver’s Head Coach last year “one of the worst coaching jobs in the history of the NFL.” Not sure where this campaign ranks in comparison to that, but if a genius like Payton just lost by 50, just imagine how bad things must have been under Hackett. Luckily, you can always rely on the fans for a calm, level-headed, rational perspective in these situations. So let’s take a look at social media to see what poignant feedback we can find from Broncos’ Country.

The Fans’ Takes

“FIRE VANCE JOSEPH” -@basically70%ofthecomments

“Who was like ‘hey Vance Joseph sounds like a good idea again!’ “ -@xbrichx

“Well done today guys! Now I get bullied by my friends for the rest of the season because of how bad you guys are again!!!” -@cmhoward23

“Fire this entire team” -@broncosfan_68

“Vance Joseph has literally destroyed our top 5 defense in 3 weeks” -@sean_showard

“what the fuck kind of “locking in” 70 BALLED BY MIAMI….” -@hunteradams8048

“Get off social media until you can prove to your fans that you can actually win a game. Traded our future to win now, the one season you will finish last, and not have a draft pick” -@pittdaddy_11

“Y’all too embarrassed to post the FINAL this time? Good…cause y’all are EMBARRASSING 🙄 Throw the whole team away and start over at this point 😂” -@ashgonzalez25

“Sean Payton is Urban Meyer 2.0” -@jesuslovesyou316

Ok well, that just didn’t go well at all. Let’s look to a former Pro Bowler, current Florida State Coach, and father of one of Denver’s star players for a more reasonable take on the situation:

“Toiling in the soil!!! SMH 2 you deserve better” -Patrick Surtain Sr.

Yikes this is going South fast. And to make matters worse this horrendous start is leading to:

Fire Sale Rumors

The one thing that can turn around a struggling program is buy in from the players and belief in the system. Well the Broncos’ Defense visibly quit on the field last Sunday and teams that start 0-3 have about a 2.5% chance of making the playoffs.

Sprinkle in comments like the one from Patrick Surtain Sr., growing discontent from the fans, & a division ran by the dynastic Chiefs and it’s easy to see why a team going nowhere fast might want to recoup some of that wasted draft capital to try to be competitive by 2030. The Waltons surely had higher expectations when they agreed to purchase the team. They expected to be competing in the Super Bowl and instead they are now competing in:

The Caleb Williams’ Bowl

That’s right, while the Broncos are off to a historically bad start, they aren’t the only team vying for the first overall pick in the 2024 draft. Much like the Broncos, the Chicago Bears came into the season full of optimism that their Quarterback and their Offense would take a significant step forward. Also like the Broncos, that delusional drug-induced pipe dream never came to fruition.

Many thought Justin Fields would follow in the footsteps of Jalen Hurts, develop as a thrower with a true No.1 Receiver, and become an MVP Caliber player. Instead, Fields ranks 29th in Passing Yards, has thrown the 3rd most interceptions, and ranks 34th in QBR at 21.3.

Week 4 will be the ultimate test to see what wins out between the Broncos’ inept Defense and The Bears’ impotent Offense with a shot at a franchise altering Quarterback on the line (stop me if you’ve heard this one before). While we most certainly won’t be tuning in for that flaming shitbag of a game, you can bet that Rob Walton and his Ownership Group will be watching every snap just praying that Sean Payton fucks this one up too so they might be able to dangle a shiny USC Quarterback in front of season ticket holders and start recouping their investment in 2024.

[the-bau-quinjet]

A Song For You

Steve Rogers x Singer!Reader

Summary: Snippets of Steve and Reader's life together as she sings a song she wrote for him.

Warnings: mention of car accident, parents dying, mostly just fluff though

Word Count: 6413

a/n: this is a mess, but I'm happy with it. It's basically a series of blurbs that are not in chronological order so I could follow the song. It's inspired by Like My Father by Jax. :) Sorry if it's confusing, hopefully it all makes sense at the end

Masterlist

Steve had been gone for months on a mission. It wasn’t often his missions lasted that long, so of course one of the few times it happened Y/N needed to tell him something important.

She shook off the annoyance as she got ready for Tony’s gala. He wanted to celebrate the successful mission as soon as Steve and Bucky came home. Of course, everyone tried to reason with him that waiting would be better so that the two super soldiers wouldn’t be exhausted, but Tony refused to listen to logic.

“Nonsense. We’re having the party as soon as they arrive.” He stated matter-of-factly before turning to Y/N. “And you, my dear, are going to sing.”

“Tony, maybe you could at least pretend to phrase it as a question?” Pepper scolded, eyeing the woman in question apologetically.

“Sorry. Will you sing at my party?” He grinned, knowing Y/N would say yes since Tony probably already told everyone she would be performing.

“Tony, you’re a menace.” She eyed him before nodding.

“I am, and you’re wonderful!” He exclaimed. “I happen to know you’ve been working on a new song. Care to sing it for Steve at the party?” He grinned.

“I don’t know how you know about that song, but fine. I think he would like it. Avengers only though! I’ll sing something else for all the guests.”

She rolled her eyes at the memory as she finished getting ready. Luckily she was ready early because Tony came running into the room in a panic.

“He’s here!” Tony’s smile widened as he thought about the nights events. “Let’s go!” He practically pulled her from the room, far too eager to share news that wasn’t his.

Tony had Y/N set up on stage right in time for Bucky and Steve to arrive. She sat behind a piano, ready and waiting for Tony’s cue.

As the guests of honor entered the main ballroom, Tony stepped up to the microphone. Steve stared at Y/N with questioning eyes while ignoring Tony’s speech. She smiled lightly, shaking her head at Tony in an effort to explain.

Steve laughed to himself, wishing for nothing more than to hold her after a long 5 months away.

“Give it up for Y/N L/N!” Tony’s introduction came to a close, signaling for her to start playing. It really was over the top considering he was only introducing her to the people who have become family to her, but she let him do his thing.

“Thanks, Tony.” She smiled fondly at Steve before introducing the song. “I wrote this song for someone special. As you all know, my parents died in a car accident a few years ago. Don’t worry, the song’s not that sad.” She earned a few laughs from her friends before she continued. “Ever since I was little, I wanted a love like theirs. It seemed so magical. Well, I found that love.” She smiled at Steve again.

“This one is called Like My Father.” With the name of the song announce, she started singing. Her eyes never left Steve’s.

I wanna come home to roses

Today had been the day from hell for Y/N. First, she woke up late due to accidentally setting her alarm for 6 pm instead of 6 am. She rushed to get out of the tower on time, only for the subway line she was supposed to take to be closed for repairs, making rushing a complete waste since she was going to be late anyway.

In her haste to leave on time, she forwent breakfast which only made her more irritable. By the time she made it to the studio, she had missed her morning meeting and had to play catchup.

The day only got worse from there. Something went wrong with every song she was meant to work on. Sometimes it was a small thing, like a guitar being out of tune. Other times, the song just didn’t feel right. No matter how many different ideas she tried to work on, she just kept running in circles.

By lunch, she was ready to give up and just go home. Unfortunately, her label was having a meeting to discuss progress for the next album’s lead single. So instead, she tried to cheer herself up with her favorite lunch. Just when she was sitting down to eat, someone bumped into her and spilled the entire meal onto the floor.

Suffice to say, by the end of the day, she was ready to collapse into her boyfriend’s arms and sleep the weekend away. However, her boyfriend was currently on a mission out saving the world, so not even he would be able to lift her spirits this time.

She trudged down the hall toward their shared apartment, eager to take a shower and lay down. It wouldn’t be as comforting without Steve, but it was still better than nothing. Finally reaching the door, she turned the key and shoved her way inside. Instantly, she stopped in her tracks.

The scent of tomato sauce filled the air. The soft sounds of Steve’s old music floated through the air, further adding to the welcoming atmosphere. She stood frozen, eyes filling with tears when Steve noticed her. He smiled, too far away to notice the tears, before turning around to get something from the counter. He held whatever it was in both hands behind his back as he walked up to her, a frown slowly forming as he noticed her expression.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, hands instantly moving around his body to hold her only to be impaired by a beautiful bouquet of white and peach colored roses. Her tears fell despite her smile. She eagerly took the flowers, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

“I’m so happy you’re home.” She took a few deep breaths, calming herself before leaning back to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Steve replied easily. “Do you want to talk about it?” Despite not knowing exactly what happened, Steve could tell she had a bad day.

She shook her head, her small smile growing as she inhaled the scent of the roses. “No, I just want to be with you.” She leaned further into the embrace, relishing in the comfort Steve always provided.

“That can be arranged.” Steve smiled, carrying her to the couch to eat.

And dirty little notes on post-its

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since Steve left for his mission and Y/N was still finding his notes around their shared apartment. Every time she added a newly found note to the box, she read through all the previous notes as well. It never failed to cheer her up.

Most of them were simple comments about how much he loved her. Little sayings like “I love you to the moon and back” or “My love for you is as endless as space.” Despite the cheesiness, she couldn’t help but smile with each new note found.

But this newest note was… different. The 21 words scrawled on a bright blue post-it had her flushing instantly.

“I miss the way you feel pressed up against me, can’t wait to come home and pin you against the wall”

Suffice to say, Steve couldn’t come home soon enough.

And when my hair starts turning gray, he’ll say I’m like a fine wine better with age.

“Oh my god.” Her voice was flat as she emerged from their shared bedroom dressed for another one of Tony’s galas. Steve turned to look at her, eyebrows raised.

“What? You look amazing.” He smirked when she blushed.

“Steve. I just found a gray hair.” She pouted, holding the offending piece of hair between her thumb and pointer. “Is this what it feels like to be old?”

“You’re not old.” He chuckled at her dramatics. “And even when all of your hair is gray, I’ll love you even more. Like cheese…” He paused, trying to think of a better comparison. “And wine, you just get better with age.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She rolled her eyes before moving to throw the hair away.

“I mean it. I’m going to love you for the rest of our lives.” He smiled, a familiar fondness in his eyes. She moved closer to embrace him.

“I love you too.”

I guess I learned it from my parents, that true love starts with friendship.

She was nearly running down the street, doing her best to slow down the dog pulling her forward.

“Hudson! Stop!” She tried to speak calmly like her manager- the dog’s owner- instructed, but it was no use. Hudson would not stop running, no matter how hard she tried to make him. “Hudson!” She yelled his name again, surprised when he actually halted.

So surprised in fact, that she was still hurtling forwards, tripping over the now stationary animal. She braced herself for impact, eyes squeezing shut and hands sticking out to catch herself, only for the impact to never come. Instead, two warms hands caught her mid-fall.

Her eyes shot open, heart racing and breathing labored. The man who caught her helped her steady herself on her feet before letting go, smiling sheepishly.

“Thank you.” She breathed out, still taken aback by the turn of events.

“You’re welcome.” He replied kindly. “You’re dog’s pretty strong.” His grimace at his own awkwardness went unnoticed by her as she looked at the dog in question.

“My friends’ dog actually. I’m dog sitting this week.” She smiled, relieved to shift the topic of conversation from her to the dog. “He normally listens really well, but I guess he really wanted to get to the park. I’m Y/N, and this here is Hudson.”

“Nice to meet you both, I’m Steve.” He shook her hand, blushing slightly from the contact. Before she could reply, Hudson leaped at a squirrel, pulling her off balance again. Steve reached out to steady her again.

“Here, let me help.” He shifted the leash from her hand to his own, having a much easier time resisting Hudson’s pulling.

“Thank you… again.” She smiled.

The two walked around the park with Hudson every day that week, becoming fast friends. She wasn’t offended when he didn’t recognize her as one of the biggest names in music, just as he wasn’t offended it took three walks for her to realize he was that Steve Rogers.

They understood each other, despite the wild differences in occupation. Steve could easily relate to Y/N’s aversion to the media. Y/N knew what it felt like to have a team of people relying on you. The two just clicked, and thus a beautiful friendship was formed.

A kiss on the forehead. A date night.

“Hey Steve.” She greeted him warmly when they met up for their weekly coffee. He smiled, but didn’t verbally respond.

The two got their coffee, sitting at a table hidden towards the back. Steve’s replies were short, as if he was thinking of something else during their conversation. By the fifth comment of hers that he merely nodded his head or hummed in response too, Y/N decided to address it. “Are you okay?”

“Go out with me.” He replied quickly, eyes going wide when he realized what he said. Her own eyes widened in response, taken by surprise. “Sorry! I just, I mean- let me start over.” He pleaded, relief filling him when she nodded.

“We’ve been friends for a while now…” She nodded along, eyes still wide. “But, I want more. Let me take you to dinner. And not like we’ve been doing. Let me take you on a date?” He smiled nervously, hands fidgeting with the lid of his coffee cup.

“I’d like that.” She replied simply, unable to form a more complicated sentence due to the butterflies in her stomach.

“Yeah?” He released his breath, unaware he had been holding it. When she nodded, a wide smile appeared on his face. “Good. I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow night.”

“You mean I have to wait?” She pouted playfully as they both stood up to leave. He laughed, moving his arm around her shoulders to guide her out of the cafe.

“Just until tomorrow.” He smiled fondly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before helping her into her car.

“Tomorrow then.” She smiled. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

Fake an apology after a fight

“Y/N?” Steve questioned as he entered their apartment. He looked around, unsurprised to see her covered in blankets on the couch. “I’m sorry.” He tried for a small smile, knowing it was of no real use.

“No you’re not.” She pouted, rolling her eyes. “But I forgive you anyway.” She gestured for him to join her on the couch. He jumped at the chance, quickly moving to hold her close to him.

“I am sorry we fought.” He spoke up after a few minutes, still trying to clear the air.

“Me too. It was stupid.” She shook her head, cuddling closer to him. “I just don’t understand why you like it.” She made a face, grimacing at just the thought.

“It’s good! Pizza has really taken on a whole new life since the 30s.” Steve quipped, smiling when you laughed.

“That doesn’t mean pineapple is an okay topping.” She could fell herself getting worked up again, but ultimately the two burst into a fit of giggles. What a stupid fight.

I wanna road trip in the summers

“Steve! You were supposed to turn there!” Y/N laughed as Steve grumbled about the GPS and his preference for maps. “This is why you should’ve let me drive.”

“Nope, because then I couldn’t surprise you.” He smirked, briefly looking at her in the passenger seat.

“What surprise?” She smiled fondly, knowing he wouldn’t tell her.

“You’ll see. Now turn off the GPS, we’re not actually going home.”

Steve drove for the next few hours until the two arrived at a small house just off the beach in Maine. He pulled into the driveway, turning to find Y/N asleep with her head pressed against the window.

“Y/N, we’re here.” He smiled at her groggy state, laughing when her eyes lit up.

“Are we in Maine?” Her eyes filled with tears, a combination of nostalgia, Steve’s surprise, and residual sleepiness the cause.

“We are. As close as I could find to where you used to come when you were little.” He responded, a shy smile on his face. Despite how long they’d been together, Steve was always nervous about surprising her. “I talked to your manager, and you’ve got the weekend off. We’re going to just relax on the beach for three days.”

“It’s perfect.” She gave him a watery smile, pulling him from the back of his neck until her lips met his. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, just-“ Y/N cut him off with another kiss. It was passionate and heated despite the limited area for movement in the car.

“I love you.” She breathed out the words quickly, but meant it with her whole being. “I love you so much. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” Tears still burned in her eyes, but the overwhelming happiness she felt made it worth it.

Steve looked shocked at her proclamation, but quickly recovered. “I love you too. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” Y/N knew exactly what he meant with those words, and it filled her with so much happiness she thought she might combust. He kissed her again, and again, and again.

They shared a few more quick pecks before finally getting out of the car.

I wanna make fun of each other

Meeting Steve’s friends was nerve wracking for a multitude of reasons.

Steve was the only person Y/N had outside of her career. All of her friends were somehow tied to her music, except Steve. Her parents died a few years ago, and she didn’t have any other family. If things went poorly with Steve’s friends, would he leave too?

Plus, all of his friends are superheroes. That’s an intimidating group of people to meet even if you aren’t trying to win them over so you can keep dating their friend.

“Just relax, they’re going to love you.” Steve whispered into her ear as the two rode the elevator up to the main residential floor. Steve did what he could to keep the event simple. It was just drinks with his friends, who happened to be Avengers.

“If you say so.” She smiled nervously, laughing to herself. Before Steve could reply with more words of encouragement, the elevator doors were opening. Steve lead her down the hall to a room that resembled a lounge in a fancy hotel. Bars lined two of the walls, a mixture of blue and white furniture sprinkled throughout the room.

“Ahh, here they are!” Tony Stark quickly rose from his seat, ready to meet the woman stealing away all of the Captain’s time.

“Tony, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is-”

“Tony Stark, I know.” She quipped. In her stress to meet all of Steve’s friends, she forgot to mention that she had already met the billionaire. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Again?” Steve questioned a the same time Tony recognized you. His jaw dropped as he turned back to Steve.

“We met at a fundraiser a few years ago-“ Tony jumped in before you could finish the explanation.

“You’re dating Y/N L/N? The Y/N L/N? Famous singer-songwriter, been topping the charts for years, Y/N L/N?” He balked, eyes rapidly flicking between Steve and Y/N.

“Um… yes?” Steve questioned Tony’s reaction, unsure why he was so surprised. “I told you her name already…” He shook his head, waiting for the teasing he knew was incoming.

“You didn’t mention it was actually her! I just thought it was someone with the same name!” Tony nearly yelled, still thrown off by the surprise.

“What’s going on over here?” Natasha walked up to the trio, one eyebrow lifted at all the noise.

“Y/N L/N!” Tony gestured to her. She nervously waved to Natasha, sticking her hand out in greeting.

“Nice to meet you.” She mumbled, one hand still holding Steve’s in a death grip.

“You too, I’m Natasha.” The two women shook hands, giving Tony time to finally find his words.

“I have to know, did Capsicle recognize you when you met?” Tony lead everyone back to the couches, foregoing the rest of the introductions to start pestering you with questions.

“I think he’s a bit outside of my target audience age wise. I don’t hold it against him.” Y/N replied, laughing when Steve rolled his eyes.

“Oh snap, she just called you old.” Sam chimed in, reaching out a hand to introduce himself. “Sam Wilson.”

You smiled at him, introducing yourself as you shook his hand.

“Here’s the real question. Did you recognize him?” Bucky questioned, already knowing the answer. Steve introduced Y/N to Bucky early on in their friendship when Bucky followed him to one of their weekly coffee dates.

“Bucky, you already know the answer to that.” Y/N deadpanned, not eager to share her lack of knowledge on world events. Steve cut in to answer before Bucky could reply.

“She did not. Told me the name sounded so familiar, but she couldn’t place it.” Steve laughed as he teased you.

“You make me sound so stupid! I knew who Captain America was, I just didn’t realize it was you.” She huffed, annoyed with how quickly the tables turned.

Steve changed the topic by moving to introduce her to the rest of the avengers in attendance; Wanda, Vision, Thor, Clint, Bruce, and Peter.

Y/N continued to share stories with the group, laughing and joking at both her and Steve’s expense. Steve smiled fondly as he watched her interact with his friends, getting along just as well as he knew she would.

I wanna rock out to Billy Joel

“Stupid. All of these ideas are stupid. How am I supposed to put out another album when I can’t even write one decent song.” Y/N huffed to herself, unaware of Steve’s presence in the room.

He moved silently through the room as she continued writing down and crossing out ideas. Suddenly, the sound of Billy Joel’s We Didn’t Start the Fire filled the room.

“Steve?” She jumped at the noise, smiling when she found him next to the record player. “Billy Joel?’ She questioned.

“You played me this song after a bad mission. Told me to think about it whenever I needed a reminder that the world’s problems aren’t my fault. Thought it might help.” He shrugged, a small smile on his face.

“I love you.” She got up from the couch, eager to pull him into a bone crushing hug.

“I love you too.” He returned her hug, careful not to actually crush her bones.

The two of them spent the next few hours playing Billy Joel, dancing and singing around the apartment.

And flip our kids off when they call us old

“Okay, grandpa.” Sam chuckled.

“Hey! I’m the only one allowed to make fun of how old he is.” Y/N playfully glared at Sam, enjoying their newfound friendship. “Plus, he’s younger than Bucky.”

“Rude.” Bucky called from the other couch, mostly ignoring Sam and Y/N’s bickering. It was a bit weird for him to hear someone else yelling at Sam, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

“Everyone calls him old.” Sam narrowed his eyes, confusion playing across his face.

“Yeah, but when it’s not me I have to defend him. Like when Pepper defends Tony from Morgan.” She easily compared her and Steve’s relationship to the couple, not realizing the weight of the moment.

“You see your relationship like Tony and Pepper?” Bucky questioned, now completely focused on Y/N.

She shrugged casually, unaware of the tension she created. “I mean, yeah. I think that’s where we headed.” She would be the first to admit she loved Steve more than she’s ever loved a boyfriend before. She likes to think Steve feels the same. “Why do you ask?”

Bucky shook his head, trying his best to seem casual. “Just curious is all.” He waited a few minutes before leaving, allowing Sam and Y/N to start up their conversation again. As soon as he was out of the room, he asked Friday for Steve’s location.

He had news to report.

He’ll accidentally burn our dinner

“Honey, I’m home!” Y/N called as she walked through the door. She was in a surprisingly good mood after a mediocre day.

“You seem happy.” Steve greeted as he walked into the living room from the kitchen. He pulled her close, kissing her before resting his chin on top of her head.

“I am happy. You’re here, what’s there to be mad about?” She squeezed him tighter, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around her.

“You make me happy too.” He pulled her onto the couch, eagerly kissing her after the day apart. He had returned from a mission just before she left for work, and seeing each other in passing was not enough.

“I missed you.” He mumbled against her mouth.

“I missed you too- is something burning?” She leaned away from him, sniffing the air.

“Shit!” He jumped from the couch, running into the kitchen as you laughed at his antics.

“Steve, language!” She called out in mock shock, laughing harder as he whined about burnt pizza.

And let me be the Scrabble winner

“Steve, sucks at Scrabble? Since when?” Wanda questioned as she ate brunch with Y/N and Nat.

“Um, always?” Y/N replied as if it was obvious.

“I have never seen Steve lose a game of Scrabble.” Nat chimed in, smirking as if she already knew what was going on (and lets face it, she probably did).

“Well, I always beat him.” She shrugged. Wanda smirked, clearly forming a plan.

“Well, you’ll just have to play Scrabble tonight and Nat and I will check if he can play better words or not!” Nat nodded along having seen this plan coming.

“Fine.” Y/N agreed, knowing there was no way of talking them out of this.

-

“Steve! Let’s play Scrabble!” Y/N smiled knowing Steve would give her anything she asked for. He walked into the living room with the box, a grin on his face.

The two of them set up the game and drew letters, immediately jumping into the game. After a few turns, Y/N texted Nat and Wanda to come into the living room to enact their plan. She watched from the corner of her eye as the two women watched Steve rearrange his letters.

When he played CAT for 7 points, Wanda gasped. Steve jumped slightly, turning around to investigate the noise.

“Oh my god.” Y/N’s jaw dropped as she realized Steve’s been letting her win.

“He was all set to play ADEQUATE, for probably a billion points, and he played CAT instead!” Wanda pointed accusingly at Steve while Nat just grinned.

“You’ve been letting me win this whole time?” Y/N threw a pillow at him, upset with the confirmation.

“Not every time! Sometimes I have bad letters.” He rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “You just look so happy when you win.”

A small smile took over Y/N’s frown. How could she be annoyed when he was just trying to make her happy.

“I love you.” She rolled her eyes at his puppy dog look. “But don’t go easy on me this time!”

“I love you too.” Steve smirked knowingly and suddenly Y/N was rethinking everything.

And when my body changes shapes, he’ll say ‘oh my god you look hot today’

“I look fat.” Y/N huffed as she plopped down on the couch, still trying to find a dress to wear out with Steve tonight.

“You’re beautiful.” Steve commented from the kitchen, causing her to shriek.

“You’re not supposed to be home yet!” She placed her hand on her heart, feeling the rapid beating from Steve scaring her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. But you do look beautiful.” He smirked as he walked closer, easily lifting her from the couch. “You look hot everyday.”

He kissed her passionately to convey just how much he believed what he was saying.

I need a man who’s patient and kind

“Steve, I need a few more minutes!” She called as she ran into their bedroom from the office. The two of them were meant to be leaving for dinner 45 minutes ago, but Y/N’s manager forced her into a last minute meeting with a potential collaborator.

“That’s fine.” He called back, a smile on his face. “Take your time, love.”

“How are you so patient.” Y/N huffed as she quickly changed clothes, annoyed with herself for delaying their plans.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her to him. “It happens. I’ve missed dates for mission before.”

“Yeah, but that’s important.” Y/N replied, leaning into his embrace.

“So is your work.” He chuckled as she rolled her eyes.

“Not so important it couldn’t wait a day.” She closed her eyes, taking a moment to just breath. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Steve questioned, genuinely confused.

“For being so kind and understanding. For never making me feel like my job is less important than yours, even though it totally is. For being you.” She replied, easily listing things she’s thankful for.

“Thank you for being you.” He replied casually, still holding her to him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She smiled before wiggling from his arms to finish getting ready.

Gets out of the car and holds the door

“I’m finally ready. Let’s go!” Y/N called, fully letting go of her annoyance at her manager for delaying her dinner plans.

“Perfect.” Steve grabbed his keys before turning to look at her. He sucked in a breath, eyes slowing gazing over her body. “You’re perfect.”

She blushed, kissing him on the cheek in response. Steve lead her to the car, opening the door for her, pressing a kiss to her lips before jogging around to the driver’s side.

“Where are we going?” She questioned, eager to finally be able to focus on him.

“Dinner.” He replied, a cheeky grin forming.

“Fine, don’t tell me.” She deadpanned, smiling as he laughed.

They discussed anything and everything they could think of as Steve drove to the restaurant, topics ranging from new songs they both liked to what a T-Rex would have for breakfast if it could cook like a person.

Eventually, the car pulled to a stop outside of a small, family owned Italian place. The lights were on, but there was nobody seated at any of the tables.

“Are you sure they’re open?” Y/N questioned, confused by his smile.

“They’re open… just for us.” He smiled shyly. “I wanted you to have a peaceful dinner, so Tony helped me find a place I could book for us for the night. No Y/N L/N or Captain America fans to interrupt.”

“Steve…” She trailed off, unable to form words. She hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet and she was speechless. He walked back around the car, opening the door and guiding her inside. She let him lead her all the way through the building until they reached the outdoor seating.

A string of tapered lightbulbs was strung across the patio, lighting up a single table in the middle. A few candles littered the area, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

“It’s beautiful.” She smiled, leaning in to kiss him before sitting down. Before she could say anything else, a familiar face greeted her.

“My name is Sam, and I’ll be serving you this evening. Can I get you started with something to drink?” Sam smiled at your shocked expression.

“Sam? What are you doing here?” She laughed, confused and overwhelmed with joy.

“I told you, nobody to interrupt us tonight.” Steve smiled, glaring at Sam for playing around. “Sam, I already told you what to bring out.”

“Couldn’t resist.” Sam winked, quickly returning with the drinks Steve requested. Y/N and Steve thanked him before returning to their conversation.

“You didn’t have to go to this much trouble.” Y/N spoke softly, still blown away by the effort and planning Steve must have put into this.

“I know. But I wanted to. You deserve it.” He smiled, taking her hadn’t across the table. “Now, I’ll bet you’re hungry since we were supposed to eat an hour ago.” As if on cue, Sam returned with Bucky, both carrying plates of food. “Let’s eat.”

The two of them continued their conversation from the car as they ate, topics again roaming all over the place. Before she knew it, Y/N had finished eating and Sam was back with dessert.

She looked down at the peach cobbler, laughing to herself. “You know me so well.” She smiled, grinning even more when he offered to share his chocolate cake. “The best of both worlds.”

When she finished eating and looked back up at Steve he was missing from his spot across the table. Instead of sitting in his chair, he was kneeling on the patio beside the table, a velvet box in his hand.

Her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her. Suddenly everything made sense. The lack of rushing, the completely private restaurant, not even having servers in the building. He wanted this to be a private moment.

“Y/N, the day I met you changed my life. I’ll have to thank Hudson for dragging you into the park that day, because I’ve never met anyone as special as you. Every moment with you is like a gift, and I want to spend the rest of my days experiencing life with you. Will you marry me?”

She nodded for a few seconds before finally finding her voice. “Yes.” It was barely above a whisper, but it was enough for Steve to delicately place the ring on her finger. “I love you so much.” She smiled, throwing herself into his arms the second he stood up.

“I love you too.” He replied, framing her face with his hands before kissing her.

I wanna slow dance in the living room like we’re 18 at senior prom

The ride home from dinner was filled with hand holding, giddy squeals, and hundreds of “I love you’s” from both Steve and Y/N. They eagerly ran back to their apartment, giggling like teenagers, high on love.

Steve quickly pulled her into the living room, kissing her over and over. She reciprocated, eager to share her happiness.

“Steve?” She questioned between kisses, waiting for him to hum in response. “Will you dance with me?” She smiled at him. Surprisingly, the two had never really danced together before. The only opportunity would have been at one of Tony’s parties, but they’re always so busy mingling with everyone.

“I’d love to.” He replied, that same fond smile on his face that she’d grown to love more than anything. She clapped, running over to the record player. She chose the first love song she could find, Cheek to Cheek by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong.

As the music played, the two swayed together, feeling more in love than ever before. Steve quietly sung the words in her ear, expressing all the raw emotion he’d been feeling since she said yes.

“Heaven, I’m in heaven. And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.” Y/N joined him, singing along to convey her own happiness as well.

“And I seem to find the happiness I seek, when we’re out together, dancing cheek to cheek.”

They danced around the living room for a few songs, letting the record play through. It wasn’t until the music stopped that they even realized the song changed, too lost in the feeling of being together.

And grow old with someone who makes me feel young

I need a man who loves me like, my father loves my mom

“We’re getting married tomorrow.” Y/N floated through the halls, humming Cheek to Cheek again. After dancing to it the night of their engagement, the couple decided it would be their first dance song. Steve walked up behind her, picking her up and spinning around until they reached the kitchen.

“We are.” He replied, just as elated as her. She giggled playfully, smiling wider than ever before. She was just about to say something when Nat and Wanda bust into the room.

“C’mon. It’s time to go!” Wanda called, gathering Y/N’s belongings.

“Where?” The woman questioned, still wrapping in Steve’s arms.

“You’re getting married tomorrow. It’s bad luck to see each other before the wedding.” Wanda spoke as if it was obvious.

“Nat?” Y/N questioned, hoping someone would understand it was just a superstition. Nat just shrugged, helping Wanda as she pulled you out of the room.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Steve called after her, a smile on his lips as he thought about seeing you again.

-

Standing at the altar, looking into Steve’s eyes, everything she prepared to say dissolved from her mind. She got lost in his blue eyes, listening to him recite his vows. All the love she felt exploded in one quick statement.

“You make me feel young.” She blurted out the words without thinking.

“Is that another old man joke?” He crinkled his eyebrows, confused by the exclamation. The onlookers chuckled.

“No! That’s not what I meant at all.” She laughed, burying her face in his chest. “I just mean, we’re grown adults.” He nodded, still confused. “But when I’m with you, I feel like a kid again. Like all my problems go away and I can just be in love with you. Like my parents were.” Tears formed in her eyes as she thought about the gravity of her statement.

Steve knew how much her parents love influenced her life. She had multiple songs inspired by their relationship and happiness.

“Oh, sweetheart. You make me feel young too. Like how I should have felt as a kid.” He decided against further explanation, not wanting to weigh down the ceremony with talk of war and his sickly youth.

“I just, I never thought I’d actually find a love like theirs, despite how much I wanted to. I think they would’ve loved you.” Steve wiped her tears as they rolled down her cheeks. He pressed his forehead to hers just feeling the need to be close.

“My ma would’ve loved you too.” He replied, his own throat getting tight. They cried as they finally said “I do”, no place they’d rather be.

And if he lives up to my father, maybe he can teach our daughter

Y/N rose from the piano as she sang the last line, exposing her growing belly to the group of Avengers, but more specifically to Steve.

What it takes to love a queen, she should know she’s royalty.

Everyone cheered for her performance, but her eyes were only on Steve’s. His jaw hung open, tears pooling in his eyes. She made her way to him, everyone moving out of her way.

As soon as she reached Steve, he pulled her into a gentle hug, eagerly kissing her.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, holding her close.

“I love you too.” She replied, just as emotional as he was.

“Are you really pregnant?” He leaned back, chuckling at the “duh” look on her face. She wiped his tears as they fell.

“I found out just after you left.” She smiled, leaning into him as he lowered his forehead to hers.

“We’re going to have a daughter.” He sounded breathless, overwhelmed with the news.

“I would’ve told you in private, but Tony insisted on having this party.” She laughed when he rolled his eyes at Tony’s antics.

“You wrote me a song.” He smiled, still holding her close.

“Oh, baby. I’ve written you dozens of songs.” She laughed when he leaned back in confusion. “They’re not all good. I wanted to finish the album before I played it for you. This was the last song.” She smiled, still overwhelmingly in love with the man in front of her.

“I love you. So much.” They spoke at the same time, swaying together as Tony invited all the remaining guests into the ballroom. They missed the song, but it was clear to everyone the room how much the two loved each other.

permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

marvel taglist:

@leyannrae

@livstilinski

@oceaniamaddness

@justreadingficsdontmindme

[alinastracker]

for the prompt thing: 62 or 69 <3

you got it bb <3

prompt: I wanted to tell you that I liked you before prom but chickened out and now we’re about to graduate college and I can’t hold it in any longer

i can’t fight this feeling any longer (and yet i’m still afraid to let it flow)

"Mal, I love you."

Alina frowns, shakes her head, and tries again.

"Mal, you've been my best friend for so long, and I love our friendship, but you see, I'm also head over heels in love with you."

She blows out a frustrated breath, her newly chopped bangs briefly floating off of her forehead. Telling her best friend of nearly six years she’s in love with him should not be the number one thing on her mind right now. It’s graduation day, for Saints sake. A day she hadn’t been sure she would ever see. But all she can think about is Mal.

She had met him on one of the worst days of her life. Alina had been transferred to a new foster home in the middle of her junior year of high school. There were few things worse in adolescent life than moving to a new school in the middle of the year — especially in high school, in a small town where everyone seemed to know each other. 

Alina had walked the halls that day clutching onto the straps of her backpack, late to nearly every class because her sense of direction was shit, and had even gone as far as to eat lunch in the bathroom like a stereotypical teen movie, the thought of walking into the cafeteria with all those eyes on her nearly ruining her appetite entirely. She had been stared at enough as it was. 

Her last class of the day was art, and she was praying for it to be the reprieve she so desperately needed. If only she could fucking find it. The warning bell rang, heightening her already raised anxiety. Alina took a corner too fast and slammed right into a wall. No, not a wall — a boy. 

“I’m so sorry!” she blurted, scrambling to her knees to help pick up the papers she made him drop. 

“All good,” the boy reassured her.

Once the two of them had the papers off the floor, Alina looked up and nearly dropped them again. She was looking into the warm brown eyes of possibly the hottest guy she had ever laid eyes on. He had a strong, defined jaw, grown out hair that wasn’t too shaggy, but still long enough to run her fingers through. And Saints, his lips. She was already imagining what those lips would feel like, subconsciously licking her own. 

One side of the boy’s mouth quirked up, just a hint of a smirk, like he was used to having this effect on people. Shit, had he noticed her staring? Say something, Alina. 

“Um, sorry,” she managed finally, handing him the pile of collected papers. 

He chuckled. “You said that already.”

She tried a laugh of her own, but it came out all wrong, choppy and nervous. “Right.” 

The boy stood to his full height, and for fucks sake, he had to be tall, too? She rose from her knees and he still towered over her. It was extremely attractive. 

“So you’re the new girl,” he said, not a question but a statement. “I’ve heard murmurings about you today.”

“Murmurings?” 

“Nothing bad. It’s just a small town. When someone new shows up, people notice.” He smiled, stuck out his hand. It took everything in her not to think about how long his fingers were. “I’m Mal.”

She took his hand, her own so tiny in comparison. “Alina.”

“Nice to meet you, Alina. Where are you headed?”

“220B? History of Traditional Art.”

Mal nodded. “Well, I can’t say that’s a room I’m super familiar with. I’m a shit artist. These hands are much better for other activities.” Her eyes must have widened, revealing just how filthy her mind was, because he quickly added, “Sports! I meant sports!”

A look passed between them, and then they were both laughing. It felt so good to laugh after the day she’d had. 

“Anyway,” Mal continued, “I can help you find your way. I might not visit the art hall often, but I know my way around.”

Alina shot him another pointed look, and Mal groaned. “My way around the school! Saints, I’m really shooting myself in the foot as far as first impressions go, aren’t I?”

She grinned, but only said, “You’ll be late for class.” The final bell was going to ring any second. 

Mal waved her off. “That’s all right. What poor representation of Stag Spirit would I be if I let the new girl walk around like a lost puppy? And besides,” he shot her a grin to match her own, “we can’t have you running around, terrorizing other kids and their poor papers now, can we?”

Alina let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “I said I was sorry!”

He turned, walking backwards toward the stairs. “Did you? Must have missed it.”

She shot daggers in his direction, but she smiled the whole way to the art room. The next day, she dared to actually step into the cafeteria for lunch. People were still staring, but after yesterday, she expected it. Part of her was hoping she would find Mal in the crowded space, but she doubted it would matter even if she did. After some social media stalking last night, Alina had discovered what she should have known from the start — Mal was popular. He would already have a flock around him, friends he had known since childhood, who were just like him — attractive, athletic, alien to a kid like Alina who preferred quiet cafes and sketchpads to football fields and pompoms. He had been nice to her yesterday, sure, but that didn’t mean—

“Alina!”

Her head popped up, scanning the sea of tables until she saw him, standing and waving her over. Sure enough, Mal was at a table filled with pretty, sociable looking people. But there was a space open next to him, and she realized with a little jump of her heart that he had saved that space for her. 

It was the start of the fastest and fiercest friendship she would ever have. Mal was popular and sporty, yes, but he was also kind, funny, smart — and most surprising, had grown up in the foster care system, too. Alina made friends with his friends, a few of her own from her art class, but none of them matched what she grew with Mal. Suddenly she was a football field kind of girl, dressing from head to toe in school colors for each match, cheering for her best friend so loud she gave the cheer squad a run for their money. Over the next year and half, they were entirely attached at the hip. 

And while it had truly started as a friendship, by the time senior prom came around, Alina had to face the fact: she was head over heels for the boy. Hell, she had noticed how attractive he was from that first fateful meeting. Mix that with how genuinely good she knew he was — how caring, how attentive, how it felt to have his head rest on her shoulder as he fell asleep during a movie; who could blame her for falling for him? 

“You have to tell him!” her friend from art class, Yelena, had insisted. 

“I know, I know.” She sighed. “I’ll do it at prom.”

They were going as a group — her, Mal, Mikhael, Dubrov, Yelena, and a few others from their meshed circle of friends, brought together by the two of them. But Mal had still matched his tie to her dress, a stunning royal blue. Mal had still bought her a corsage — a delicate thing of mostly blue irises, her favorite flower. He was not her date, yet in every way except in name, it felt like he was, and Alina basked in the feeling. 

But as song after song played, Alina found herself backing out each time she tried to approach him. Yelena was shooting pointed looks at her all night, murmuring as she passed her, “You’re running out of time.”

Then a punky pop song came on, one of her and Mal’s favorites. She called him over. “Dance with me!” she exclaimed, and laughed as he all but pulled her onto the dance floor. Neither of them were good dancers, but they were enthusiastic, at least with each other. As the song neared its end, Alina sucked in a breath.

“Mal, I have to tell you something.”

He raised a brow, waiting for her to speak. The song ended, and their principal took to the stage. “All right folks, it’s time to announce your prom king and queen!”

Everyone was cheering and turning to the stage, but Mal was still looking at her, still waiting for her answer.

Alina opened her mouth, closed it, then finally said, “Thank you for the corsage. I really love it.”

Mal gave her a quizzical look, lips tugging down — and was that disappointment in his eyes? Before she could fully read him, his face smoothed, his usual charmed smile returning. “Of course, Lina.” 

“And your prom king is,” the principal was saying, “Malyen Oretsev!”

The crowd roared. Mal’s smile turned sheepish, and he took to the stage to accept his crown. Ruby was named prom queen, to no one’s surprise. Alina watched them dance together in the middle of the room to a romantic song that would now forever be ruined for her. A little later that night, Mal came up to her, said, “You can get a ride home with Yelena, right?” He motioned behind him, flushing a little even as he grinned, to where Ruby was waiting. “I’m gonna head out.”

Alina swallowed the stupid lump in her throat and nodded. Mal pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and then he was gone. She would spend the night at Yelena’s, crying on her shoulder that she had missed her chance — if she’d ever had one to begin with. Because of course Mal would choose Ruby. Beautiful, blond Ruby, much more his equal than Alina could ever be. 

Graduation came, and it was happy. But in all of the pictures and celebrations was Ruby — no longer just captain of the cheer squad Ruby, but Mal’s girlfriend Ruby. She watched them partake in a summer romance that she was guiltily happy to see fizzle out once college came and split them apart. Luckily, her and Mal were off to Os Alta University together, home of the Firebirds. They forged a new friend group there: the twins, Tolya and Tamar, Nadia, David, Genya, Zoya, Nikolai. Mal didn’t really date freshman year, sticking to little flings that Alina told herself didn’t matter. In sophomore year, the tension between him and Zoya finally snapped, and the two of them had a brief . . . something together. 

Of course, Alina had her own dabbles in romance — Alexei being the sweetest, Aleksander nearly making her swear off men all together. Her next two flings were with women, both because she had finally fully accepted her bisexuality and because she truly had lost trust in the male species. She even made out with Nikolai a couple times, but they had both just been using each other. They’d spent one night in a club so obnoxiously all over one another that Zoya had stormed out. Her thing with Mal had been off and on at that point, and the next morning, she texted him that they were off for good. 

Two weeks later, Nikolai and Zoya were dating. Mal was single. 

And still, she hadn’t made a move. 

Alina stares in the mirror now, watching the tassel on her graduation cap sway back and forth. In an hour, she’ll be moving it from the right to the left and leave Os Alta University in the rear window. It hadn’t been easy getting here — nothing is easy for a foster care kid, especially one who wants to be an artist. But she’s done it. She’s graduating with top honors. Saints, she even has a job lined up. Everything she worried about growing up — making a future for herself, being swallowed by the system, figuring out who she is without the guidance of her birth parents — she has faced all of it head on. At every step, she’s run after what she’s wanted and grabbed it by the hands until it was hers.

Everything except Mal. 

And try as she might, she can’t imagine a future without him in it.

He’s not seeing anyone — for now. Last night he texted her, laughing about how Ruby of all people had hit him up. She’s going to be in the city this weekend, apparently, and asked if he wanted to get a drink. It felt like prom all over again.

“Alina, come on!” Genya calls. “We’re going to be late!”

“Coming!” she calls back.

Alina follows Genya and Zoya down to the car, sits numbly in the backseat as they drive to the giant building holding their graduation ceremony. 

“Look alive, Starkov,” Zoya says as they get out of the car, linking their arms. “Today is for happy things. New beginnings.”

Genya takes her other arm. “No pouting about boys unless you’re going to do something about it.”

She smiles, and for a little while, it’s not forced. There’s a rush of excitement as they walk inside and find their seats. Genya isn’t too far off from her, but Zoya’s a few rows ahead. In the rows between them, still too far to talk to but not too far to make out the back of his head, is Mal. He’s talking to the guy next to him, even though she’s pretty sure he doesn’t know him. But that’s Mal, blooming wherever he’s planted.

Alina knows she shouldn’t, but the ceremony hasn’t started yet, so she stands and calls out, “Mal!” 

Somehow, he hears her over all the ruckus around them. The smile he gives her has her heart beating double time. “I’ll find you after!” he shouts back, though of course, she already knew that. Mal always finds her.

As the ceremony starts and a handful of different people come up to make speeches, she finds herself slipping into her thoughts from earlier. In her head, she sees Mal and Ruby, meeting for that drink. They pick up right where they left off. Ruby moves to the city, moves in with Mal. Alina’s there through all of it, supporting Mal like she always has, always will. On the sidelines she stays, watching him as he gets married and has ridiculously beautiful babies. None of it is real, not yet, but the thought is so painful she has tears in her eyes. 

Well, at least she can blame the tears on emotional graduation bullshit as she watches her friends walk the stage, cheering for each of them even though they’re not supposed to. Tamar and Tolya, the latter looking pretty emotional himself. David, who walks quickly even though he’s probably the most awarded student of the whole graduating class. Nikolai, who dramatically presses a kiss to the hand of the Os Alta University President after she hands him his diploma. Zoya, who walks the stage as if she owns it. 

Then Mal’s name is called, and she cheers so loud she’s pretty sure he hears it, if the grin on his face is any indication. Genya crosses, graceful as always. When her own name is called, she’s not expecting much. She has no family here save from the one she forged for herself. But as she walks, she can hear a very distinct cheer from a very distinct voice, and butterflies swarm drunkenly in her stomach. 

In the minutes that pass between her walking the stage and the last name being called — poor Nadia —Alina knows what she’s going to do. No backing out this time.

“Congratulations, Class of 2021!”

Everyone cheers, and graduation caps go flying through the air. Alina tosses hers with everyone else, and then she takes off, pushing through her classmates as they jump and shout, running until she finds the right row, forces herself through the bodies in her way, until she’s in front of him. Until she’s found Mal. 

“Alina,” he says in surprise. “What are you—”

“Don’t get a drink with Ruby.”

Mal frowns. “What?”

“I said don’t get a drink with Ruby!” she says, louder this time.

“I heard you. I’m just confused.” He shakes his head, runs a hand through his hair. “Why shouldn’t I have a drink with Ruby, and why did you run to tell me this right now?”

Because I’ve been in love with you from the first moment I saw you. 

Because I wanted to tell you at prom, but I chickened out. 

Because I’ve watched you kiss other girls for almost six years now, and I can’t stand to just watch any longer.

Alina doesn’t say any of that. Instead, she presses onto her tip toes, takes his face between her hands, and kisses him. 

Mal stiffens, but doesn’t give her time to worry before he relaxes again, pulling her body against his, lifting her so she doesn’t have to stretch so far anymore. All around them are the happy cheers of a group of people at the end of one road stepping onto another. Families in the stands hoot and holler for their children, wipe tears and think, they made it. 

But for Alina, it’s like being in a room where nothing exists except her and Mal, her best friend, her constant, the most important person in her life. She’s kissing him, she’s finally kissing him, and he’s kissing her back as if he’s been waiting for six years to do this, too. Like maybe he’s wanted her all along.

“Alina,” he breathes when their lips part, their foreheads pressed together instead. “Thank the bloody Saints.”

She giggles, actually fucking giggles, like a lovestruck school girl. “I’ve wanted this since prom. Before, even.”

Mal smiles, shakes his head the tiniest bit. “Me too.”

They laugh, so close that they’re breathing each other in. Two idiots, that’s what they are. But there’s no room to groan about what could’ve been sooner, no room to drown in regrets. They are young, and there is only room for joy in knowing they have the rest of their lives to make up for lost time. Starting now. Their lips meet again. Mal is steady and warm against her. He feels like home. It’s everything she’s ever imagined. It’s better. 

Alina can see her future so clearly now, because she knows no matter what comes next, she’ll have Mal beside her to navigate through it.

He is all she’s ever wanted — her forever person, who won’t leave when she’s being unreasonable, who’s love is not conditional. He is all she’ll ever need.  

[vierschanzentournee]

Ski Jumping Survey 2020/21 - The Results

So, 2020/21 was… a season. It’s certainly had its ups and downs, but I’m grateful that we were able to have the majority of a season, including the world championships, despite whatever the hell has been going on the in the wider world!

Luckily, there’s no reason that coronavirus should have an impact on my third end-of-season survey — in fact, I got an absolutely awesome 103 responses this year! For reference, last year I got 68, and the year before that I got 66. I don’t know whether my survey just reached more people this year, or whether the ski jumping family on Tumblr has grown, but either way I’m super happy.

The results for overall favourite jumpers were scored the same way as usual: a vote for favourite was worth 3 points, a vote for second favourite was worth 2, and a vote for third favourite was worth 1. The jumpers were ranked based on their total number of points, which meant that the most popular World Cup ski jumpers this year were…

Maren Lundby & Daniel-André Tande

I always knew this season would be an interesting one for my survey (...and yes, I do start thinking about it quite a bit in advance), because the male winner of the previous two years, Stephan Leyhe, wouldn’t be an option due to his injury. Daniel, however, wasn’t a completely unexpected winner — he came second to Stephan last year. I do wonder whether Daniel got an extra little boost because of his terrible fall in Planica at the end of the season, which meant he was very much at the forefront of everyone’s minds, but I’ve got no way to confirm or deny that! The full results for the men are below - if two jumpers had the same number of points, ranking was based on who had the highest number of votes for favourite (if that was identical, it then went down to who had the highest number of votes for second favourite). If two jumpers share a ranking, it means they had the exact same distribution of votes.

1. Tande (78 points)

2. Stoch (57)

3. Geiger (57)

4. Granerud (51)

5. Eisenbichler (38)

6. Boyd-Clowes (31)

7. Schlierenzauer (30)

8. P Prevc (27)

9. Lindvik (26)

10. Wellinger (22)

11. R Kobayashi (18)

12. Stekala (16)

13. D Prevc (15)

14. Y Sato (15)

15. Lanisek (12)

16. Pavlovcic (12)

17. Freund (10)

18. Freitag (8)

19. Hayboeck (8)

20. Wolny (7)

21. Aalto (7)

22. Nakamura (6)

23. D Huber (6)

24. Hamann (6)

25. Kubacki & Kraft (5)

26. Schmid (5)

27. Johansson (5)

28. C Prevc & Jelar & Semenic (4)

29. Fettner (4)

30. Kot (3)

31. Klimov (3)

32. Paschke (2)

33. Forfang (2)

34. Kytosaho & Aigro & Markeng & Aschenwald (1)

Karl Geiger defends his third place from last year, while Kamil Stoch jumps a few places from 5th to second (perhaps courtesy of his third Four Hills victory this year?). Obviously, the biggest winner here is Halvor Egner Granerud, who has gone from only 2 points last year (when he struggled immensely in the World Cup and finished with only a few points) to finishing fourth with 8.28% of the vote (Tande had 12.66%, while Stoch and Geiger had 9.25% each). Others who have moved up include Eisenbichler (from 10th to 5th) and Stekala (who I believe did not compete in the World Cup last year and so wasn’t available as an option, but has clearly won a lot of hearts this season). Conversely, there are also a few who seem to have lost out — Marius Lindvik fell from 4th place to 9th, while Andreas Wellinger, who wasn’t an option last year due to his injury but dominated the non-World Cup vote, could only manage 10th in comparison to his second place in 2019.

The women saw another season of dominance from Maren Lundby in this survey, although not so much on the hill. The full results for the women are:

1. Lundby (103 points)

2. Takanashi (85)

3. Kramer (62)

4. Althaus (57)

5. Kriznar (52)

6. Opseth (50)

7. Freitag (19)

8. Klinec & Pinkelnig (15)

9. Vogt (13)

10. Hoelzl (13)

11. Rogelj (12)

12. Iraschko-Stolz (11)

13. Voros (11)

14. Rupprecht (9)

15. Karpiel (8)

16. Bjoerseth (7)

17. Pagnier (6)

18. Twardosz (4)

19. Rajda (4)

20. Avvakumova & Stroem & Haralambie (3)

21. Maruyama (2)

22. L Malsiner & Strate (2)

23. Kvandal & Ito & Eder & Seyfarth & Iwabuchi & Brecl (1)

Although Lundby has secured the win yet again, her share of the vote is a little lower this time at 16.74%, compared to 21.27% in 2020. Sara Takanashi has overtaken Katharina Althaus for second place, but undoubtedly the highest climber is Sara Marita Kramer, who received no votes at all last year (despite ranking 9th in the overall World Cup), but this year won 10.06% of the women’s vote. Many other results were largely stable — Kriznar, Opseth, and Freitag are in the same area of the rankings as they were last year — but Ema Klinec made some gains, moving up from 15th to 8th.

The votes for favourite teams were simply added up, and the team with the most votes won. For the men, the rankings were:

1. Norway (34 votes)

2. Poland & Germany (23)

3. Slovenia (9)

4. Austria (7)

5. Japan (4)

6. Finland (1)

7. France (1)

Interestingly, the Norwegians have overtaken the Germans — possibly this has something to do with the Germans essentially losing their two most popular jumpers, Wellinger and Leyhe, while the Norwegians saw excellent results from Halvor Egner Granerud. Poland have also overtaken Slovenia, by a significant margin, which I’m not entirely sure I can explain!

For the women, the rankings were:

1. Norway (28 votes)

2. Slovenia (24)

3. Germany (19)

4. Austria (12)

5. Japan (9)

6. Poland (3)

7. Russia (2)

8. France (1)

Again, Norway have taken the lead from Germany. Slovenia have jumped from fourth to second, leapfrogging both Austria and Germany, while Japan are steadily catching up to Austria too. 2020/21 was a strong season for the Slovenian women on the whole, with Nika Kriznar winning the overall and Ema Klinec becoming a world champion, which perhaps explains why they’ve been on people’s minds more often.

The vote for favourite male athlete who didn’t compete in the World Cup this season wasn’t actually quite as much of a slaughter as I’d thought it would be — the winner was exactly who you think it is, but others mounted a strong challenge!

1. Leyhe (29 votes)

2. Fannemel (12)

3. Gangnes (9)

4. Bickner (8)

5. Morgenstern (6)

6. Kasai (5)

7. Pedersen & Peier (3)

8. Hautamaki (2)

9. Stjernen & Schmitt & Ahonen & Malysz & Raimund & S Huber & Larinto & Hannawald & Descombes Sevoie & Kranjec & Aune & Hilde (1)

There was a far greater variety of answers this year, probably thanks to the much larger sample size - so while roughly a third of respondents were still missing Stephan, plenty of people also found room in their hearts for long-time absentees like Fannemel, recent retirees like Gangnes and Kranjec, those relegated to the Continental Cup or below like Kasai and Pedersen, or those who have long since retired but whom we still miss, like Morgenstern, Schmitt, and Malysz.

The same question didn’t get a huge amount of responses for the women:

1. Hendrickson (8 votes)

2. Seifreidsberger (3)

3. N Prevc & Wuerth (2)

4. Sagen & Straub & Van & Iakovleva & M Malsiner (1)

Sarah Hendrickson, one of the first legends of women’s ski jumping who announced her retirement at the end of this season, was at the front of many respondents’ minds — others were looking towards the future with Nika Prevc, the younger sister of Peter, Cene, and Domen.

It’s a little bit difficult to compare the results for favourite tournament each year, as 2 out of the 3 years I’ve run the survey have seen the cancellation of various tournaments. The one consistent, however, has been the Four Hills Tournament, which still remains the favourite of most of the fanbase:

1. Four Hills Tournament (75 votes)

2. Planica7 (14)

3. Willingen Six (13)

I didn’t ask about favourite podiums this year, as the headache it caused me last year was not worth repeating, no matter how interesting the comparisons might be!

One of my favourite elements of this survey is the predictions. The most popular predictions for the winners of season 19/20 were correct; the predictions for 20/21, however, were much less accurate — no one at all saw Granerud coming, and only one person correctly predicted that Nika Kriznar would win the women’s World Cup. The most popular predictions to win this season were Geiger (who finished 6th, after a busy season which involved catching Covid-19, welcoming a baby daughter, and winning a variety of ski flying and world championship medals) and Lundby (who finished 8th, struggling to find her best form in early World Cup competitions but hitting a groove towards the end of the season and winning several world championship medals). Inspired by this rather topsy-turvy season, we’ve got a wide variety of predictions for next year:

1. Geiger (29 votes)

2. R Kobayashi (17)

3. Eisenbichler (12)

4. Lanisek (8)

5. Pavlovcic (5)

6. Lindvik (5)

7. Stoch & Granerud & D Huber (4)

8. D Prevc (3)

9. Boyd-Clowes (2)

10. Y Sato & Zajc & Fannemel & P Prevc & Schlierenzauer & Kubacki (1)

Interestingly, not many people seem to think Granerud can do it twice in a row — this certainly fits the pattern we’ve seen over the past few decades, with the last male jumper to win two consecutive titles being Janne Ahonen in 2003/04 and 2004/05. Despite his failure to deliver on the overall title this year, Karl Geiger has again received a vote of confidence, while his teammate Eisenbichler is being seriously considered for the title for the first time. There’s also a lot of support here for jumpers who haven’t even had a World Cup victory: Lanisek, Pavlovcik, Huber, and Boyd-Clowes have never won a competition. There are a few other long shots here too, considering that Fannemel has been out for three consecutive seasons (and isn’t even confirmed to be jumping next season), and Schlierenzauer finished 65th in the World Cup this season (although it’s of course worth noting that Granerud was 61st last season, and we all know that Gregor knows how to win!)

There’s far less variety to be found among the women:

1. Kramer (49 votes)

2. Takanashi (13)

3. Lundby (11)

4. Opseth (6)

5. Kriznar (3)

6. Klinec (2)

Again, not many people think Kriznar can do it twice in a row — instead, all eyes are on Sara Marita Kramer, who came within touching distance of the crystal globe this year but was stymied by various cancelled competitions. This is the first year that Lundby hasn’t been the fandom’s top prediction, and it seems that when it rains for her, it pours, because she’s not even the second choice. That title goes to Sara Takanashi, who hasn’t won an overall title since 2016/17 but who finished second to Kriznar this season.

Sadly, only one of the jumpers tipped for a first victory last year actually managed to achieve one this season — Nika Kriznar. Many of the other favourite picks, such as Constantin Schmid, Philipp Aschenwald, and Ziga Jelar instead suffered something of a downturn in form, while others like Anze Lanisek and Silje Opseth have performed well, but not quite well enough for a win. This year’s votes are:

1. Lanisek (21 votes)

2. Stekala (20)

3. Pavlovcic (17)

4. Opseth (9)

5. Boyd-Clowes (6)

6. Schmid (3)

7. Bjoerseth (2)

8. Jelar & Nakamura & C Prevc & Pedersen (1)

Towards the end of the season, Pavlovcic in particular seemed to be knocking on the door of victory; Lanisek was a consistent top 10 finisher; and Stekala achieved his very first podium. It’ll be interesting to see where these jumpers go next year, and I hope that it’s not quite as much of a curse as it was last year!

As ever, the final part of the survey was focused on demographics — who are the ski jumping family?

According to this year’s survey, the average ski jumping fan on Tumblr is 21.6 years old, a German-speaker who is from and lives in Germany, and has been watching ski jumping for slightly over 7 years!

I put together charts showing the data collected about respondents’ country of origin, country of residence, age, languages, and time watching ski jumping:

So, all there’s left to do now is thank everyone who took the survey for their invaluable contributions to “science” — thank you to @telemarcs @queen-maren @na-woke-i-nakamura​ @damn-d4niel @louddreaming @skiijumpingg @hill-record @june-skijumping @ificouldflyhigh @flautist10 @blueplastichairbrush @vixmise @skijumping-is-my-aesthetics @startgate13 @lewanarta @oneoutof @sportschaos @sparflamme @anagraves @turquoiseheart1 @jumpingtodreams @entropuff @paringeverywhere @omi-om @blueberryfriday @rpntws @jokkeblobfish @reindeersonmytshirt @ski-jumper-stan @cryingismyonlyhobby @itsloveit @mlledevoltaire @prinshoppmarius @skiijumpinng @czarnewino @ski-schlieri @badlandings @one-more-jump @ilovenearlyeverything @iliketheusual @lipasworld @jensontodd @scandinavianbyheartt @ryoyuftw @sarcasticlilkid @moon-ascendant @eksperimentgaj @damnconfused @flegm-a @witchsdog @byeseefeld @stephanleyhes @anttiaaltostan @magioghvitetekopper @merlex93, the person who gave me an Instagram username when asked for a Tumblr username, and, last but not least, the person who replied “wouldnt you like to know weatherboy” when asked for a URL. I will never know who you are, but I love you.

[imagineshere-forall]

Spencer Reid Imagine

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 950

Request: could you do a spencer reid imagine where your his complete opposite, you’re super spiritual/witchy, super artistic, super loud n such. and the team is just amazed how well you two click! thank you so much! 😊

--

Even though you spent little time at your desk, you still liked to keep it decorated with your latest artwork. You never stuck to one medium, you were always making coasters, mugs and blankets for the team. Slowly, your art started making its way round the office. Derek had a colourful mug you made yourself. It was safe to say, you didn’t conform to social norms and had no fear in expressing your true self constantly. Growing up, you know you had always wanted to work in law enforcement, and even while doing your degree people kept saying that you would end up reading tarot cards at the fair.  

While you did do a reading every week to prepare yourself for the week ahead, and harboured a collection of countless tarot decks were shelves littered with numerous crystals varying in size, colour and shape.  

When you first started at the BAU everyone was shocked by how loud you dressed in comparison to everyone else who dressed in relatively mute colours. Garcia was one of your closest friends, mirroring personalities and passion for you interests. Although, you had to admit your best friend at your work was the one and only Spencer Reid. People are constantly shocked by the close relationship between you and the doctor, but you both just click. Completely soothed in each other's company, the pair of you just understood each other.  

This came as a shock to your co-workers and anyone who knew you and Reid, you two would be the last pair people would assume. Where Reid is so scientific and factual, basing things of statistics and reasoning, whereas you tended to trust your intuition more. Many times, you had been at a mental block with a case and after burning some incense, placing a rose quartz in your pocket and meditating for a few minutes – sometimes more – you had an epiphany. Something in the case you hadn’t noticed. You didn’t believe you were psychic; however, you used your tools and instruments to help ground yourself, and you felt their power help you.  

Furthermore, while Reid often muttered words quietly, you were not afraid to make your mind heard. The team loved when they had a case in your home town and met your friends and got to hear how you had protested various causes from a young age with a passion for speaking up for the people who don’t have a voice. Even your childhood bedroom screamed at anyone who entered, every surface was cluttered, yet perfectly neat similar to your desk in Quantico.  

You and Reid completed each other, only at a platonic capacity. However, going further has never been ruled out, you have often thought about Reid in a deeper relationship although nothing had come of it yet.  

This particular morning in the office, you had come in early as you felt you needed to do a reading of your cards before you got to work which happened fairly regularly. Luckily, you kept a spare deck of cards in your desk, this desk had been gifted to you by the team as a birthday present as it was one of the pricier sets.  

“That was so cool” Garcia said as you packed away your cards after giving her a reading. She marvelled at your ability to understand the cards. You both turned your heads as you heard the elevator door ping open, seeing Reid.  

“Good morning doctor!” you smiled, you always had an excess of energy, as a child it was though you had ADHD but no tests were ever done, but it makes sense.  

“I never understand how you’re so awake in the morning,” he chuckled as he walked past your desk loitering, and leaning against the side of his desk so he could still face you and Garcia. His entrance was followed by Derek.  

“Hello hot stuff,” you smiled at Derek, like Penelope you always called him creative nicknames which, most of yours however you had stolen from Penelope as she had a never-ending thread of them in her brain. He just smiled and returned the greeting as he started putting his coffee down on the desk opposite yours.  

“Fancy a card reading Spence?” You asked, every time you came in early but he was yet to actually agree. He normally just responded with a statistic, or something related to tarot as a way to say no. You felt you had slowly been chipping away at him.

“Go on then,” he said as he shook off him messenger bag sitting down one of the empty chairs near your desk.  

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked shocked as Reid sat down, twiddling his hands as he wheeled the chair closer to your desk in preparation for the reading. They were all so in shock you had finally gotten him to say yes. As you began laying the cards out in formation, the elevator dinged signally Hotch’s arrival.  

“What’s going on?” he questioned as he walked pat seeing everyone crowded near your desk.  

“I’m giving Spencer a card reading!” you exclaimed, smiling. Although, you never really stopped smiling.  

“Finally wore him down, huh?” Hotch smiled

[ushidoux]

What’s In a (Nick) Name? - Reon Ohira x Reader

Summary: Reon doesn’t take too kindly to a nickname, even if he pretends it doesn’t bother him. (~1.3k words)

Warnings: talk of insecurity, fluff, super brief implied racism (not what you think), sfw

A/N: I wish people paid more attention to Reon so now I will unload my headcanons about him.

---

“Reon, left!”

Moving fluidly and carefully, he kept the ball in play long enough for the star player of the team to spike and score yet another point against their opponents, undeniably assuring their victory.

Despite being drowned out by the roar of the crowd, Reon’s cheers were just as loud and heartfelt as the rest of his team when they immediately celebrated their win. He hadn’t scored the winning point, and in fact, the number of points he had individually scored was middling in comparison to the total they’d amassed as a team, but he was still elated beyond comparison as the team collapsed on each other in a huddle. 

Being a support character wasn’t all bad. Even if he wasn’t as obvious a team support as Shirabu who meticulously laid plans as the team’s setter, he was crucial in his own way.

---

“Oi, Benkei!”

Reon closed his locker only to reveal Tendou beside him, grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he gathered his things up for home. 

“I’m not Benkei,” He said for the nth time, allowing a mild irritation to affect his tone as he bent down to change into his sneakers so he could walk home. He, of course, wasn’t upset (there are much worse nicknames to be had), but this particular nickname had stuck ever since a certain history class and he was maybe just a little tired of it.

He wasn’t sure exactly why this nickname bothered him more in particular. He’d run the gamut from lazy nicknames like Lion-kun, cute nicknames like Rin-chan from the small kids he volunteered with who couldn’t pronounce his name, and names frankly as offensive as Sambo* (luckily that had been just a one off), but for some reason, Benkei got under his skin.

Nevertheless, he knew Tendou didn’t mean to annoy and was more highlighting the fact that he was such a great assist to Ushijima, so it was fine.

He sighed, and Tendou continued.

“We’re still waiting on you outside though - you’re walking home with us, right?” 

Reon smiled.

“Of course.”

Tendou followed him out of the gym, talking animatedly about a horror movie he’d seen last weekend and highly recommended while Reon indulged him with a sympathetic listening ear before they met up with other team members.

He shifted his gym bag idly from one side to another, only to see something large and white flutter to the ground.

Tendou’s eyes grew wide as Reon bent to pick it up and revealed it to be a card of some sort.

Handmade and one-sided, in semi-neat but large, bubbly characters in a mix of English and Japanese was a note of some sort.

You did a GREAT JOB on the court today! I’m always cheering for you!

Fondly, your secret admirer~ ❤

Beneath the message was a small cartoon of a cheering girl drawn with clear attention to detail, and as Reon took a careful look at the picture as though it were possibly the sender’s self-portrait, he could feel his heart start to race.

It didn’t help that Tendou started to hoot and holler, which only drew more attention to the situation as the rest of the team approached.

“You seem very excited, Satori,” Shirabu quipped, immediately as he stopped before them. Ushijima, affect neutral as usual, raised an eyebrow at Tendou before looking at Reon who still was trying to come to the grips with the idea of someone noticing him. 

Maybe it wasn’t him. There wasn’t a specific name on it, and a locker was close enough to Ushijima’s or Semi’s, who seemed like better candidates… maybe they were mistaken? 

Yeah, that made much more sense.

“Someone’s obsessed with our very own Reon-kun~!” Tendou cheered.

Quickly backtracking, Reon laughed, stuffing the card into his backpack out of sheer embarrassment, and shaking his head.

“There’s no evidence it’s for me, so we can just forget it.”

Quickly changing the subject, he congratulated Ushijima on a good final point and suggested ramen on the way home.

—-

“What? Why wouldn’t it be for you, babe?”

The look of confusion on your face, still the prettiest he’d ever seen since the day you finally revealed yourself as the card sender, was so genuine that he was almost embarrassed to explain that back then in high school, much more than now, he’d never really thought of himself as noteworthy.

And somehow it had come up, more than two years after graduation, over a casual dessert date on a lovely spring afternoon.

Well, you’d brought it up, flicking the tiniest bit of vanilla ice cream onto his nose before leaning over to kiss it off, then telling him you couldn’t believe he was so shy when you’d first introduced yourself. 

“It should have been worse for me, I’d already made it clear I had a crush on you! You had complete control of the situation!” You’d exclaimed.

And then he’d replied with that he wasn’t sure you’d gotten the right locker.

You frowned.

Reon’s natural sweetness and peacemaking tendencies befitting a middle child were what had drawn you to him once you’d gotten to know him, but what you hadn’t anticipated were the small ripples of insecurity he hid with a calming smile and soft words.

It was hard for you to understand why. He had been part of a particularly intimidating group in high school, was following his dreams of playing volleyball, was gainfully employed, and loved by his family, friends and you alike. 

But still, you couldn’t ignore the worry lines that graced his features every once in a while when he was preoccupied with something, when he thought you weren’t looking. 

Or the very slight tenseness in his shoulders when you got too friendly with someone new - not that he was ever really jealous.

Just unsure if he was good enough. 

Your fingers intertwined with his as you left the ice cream bar for a walk in the park. 

“You know my nickname once was Benkei…,” he spoke up, suddenly. 

You slowed to a stop, again confused, then let out a giggle.

“What the hell does that mean?” 

Your grip on his hand remained loose but steady, and he ended up smiling because your face was so radiant in the sun as you cracked up in laughter, cheering him up.

“Something about a legendary sidekick to a samurai or something… at least in short,” Reon replied.

“Sidekick?” You repeated, raising an eyebrow. You took a couple paces forward, and shook your head.

“You’re not a sidekick,” you immediately said with a huff. “That’s a lame name.”

Your remark was mildly annoyed, and so he chuckled, pulling you closer to him so that he could wrap his arm around your shoulder.

“It was meant to be endearing, I think,” he mused, pressing his lips to the top of your head. The idea of you immediately rejecting the joke made his heart soar, but it was too silly to explain.

“But it bothered you!”

“A little,” he agreed. “But it wasn’t a big deal,” he added.

“Even so, next time they should be more creative,” you dug in. “You’re not Benkei, you’re Reon, and you’re the most wonderful man in the entire world, no competition,” you proclaimed without hesitation.

Despite considering for a split second that maybe it was just because it was you who had noticed him from the start, your words of reassurance compelled him into wrapping his arms around your neck affectionately.

“I love you.”

Even if you were the only one who saw him as more than a background character, it was truly enough for him.

[lemonietrinket]

nct/wayv masterlist

number of works: 48+

begun: 20/08/2019 last updated: 11/12/2020

key

request ✤ musical ♫ halloween/spooky ☾ christmas ❅ oddball ♧ idol birthday present ✧

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

drabbles

Not the Reason ||| Taeil x Reader ✧ ||| fluff, mild angst ~ taeil finally admits something small, and maybe its a step towards the biggest confession of them all

Arms ||| Johnny x Reader just fluff ~ sleepy cuddling with johnny

Pro Gamer ||| Taeyong x Reader ✧ ||| fluff lol ~ playing animal crossing with your boyfriend, and hes not having a lot of luck

00:13 ||| Taeyong x Reader timestamp ||| angst mostly, fluff ~ late at night you hit a depressive spiral after feeling very ignored by your friends

Yuta x Insecure!Reader angst, reassurance fluff ~ because of your insecurities with your body, you make sure youre never as physically close to your boyfriend as much as you want to be. yuta wants to fix that ~ warnings: body insecurities (kept vague, but focusing around chest and stomach), general feelings of upset, tears, swearing (1x f**k)

Epilogue ||| Kun & Reader smutty undertones, lil fluff ~ prequel to ‘Candy Baby’, involves a soft, embarrassed and ultimately curious kun, and an accidentally nosey reader

Peace ||| Kun x Reader big fluff ~ waking up with kun is great—but you know what is also good? falling right back asleep again

Victory ||| Ten x Reader fluff, humour ~ sad ten wants cuddles and mean reader wont give him any

Merigold ||| Jaehyun x Reader angst with tiny fluff ~ when buying flowers for your date, you end up falling in love—with the wrong guy

Safe Haven ||| Mark x Reader big fluff ~ while waiting for your boyfriend to come home, you sit curled up on the sofa, stuck on the edge of sleep

Catgroove - Parov Stelar ||| Hendery x Reader ♫ ||| humour ~ pranking hendery with a classic

Pair ||| Jaemin x Reader ✤ ||| solid fluff ~ you wait for your boyfriend to come home so you can spring a surprise

reactions

How NCT would comfort you after a bad day fluff, bit of angst, some curse words ~ kind of just what it says on the tin

How NCT 127 would react to accidentally hurting you fluff, some tiny spicier elements, but they’re so mild, attempts at humour, tiny bits of angst in some? ~ scenarios in this are only very small things, and are mostly he members being clumsy/forgetting to be a bit careful in normal everyday situations—no one gets really hurt!

How NCT Dream would react to you getting the hiccups pure fluff, humour

Small Displays of Affection in Domestic Life with Dream pure fluff and bad humour 

oneshots/imagines

Stay ||| Taeil x Reader fluff ~ boredom strikes you in your tired state, leading you to think back on the night before

Dreams Come True ||| Johnny x MakeupArtist!Reader ✤ ||| fluff, small angst if you squint, some more inferred heated elements ~ johnny is kind to all the members of staff, and so you believe that he thinks no differently of you

Kestrel ||| Johnny x Reader ♧ ||| wistful angst, fluff ~ youre on the cusp on a huge change in your life, but a part of you cant let go, and youre not sure how youre supposed to

Lie to Me ||| Johnny x Reader subverted angst, fluff, smutty undertones ~ you and johnny dont agree on everything. and this time neither of you are great at backing down

Save A Nation ||| Johnny x Reader ❅ ||| humour, lil fluff ~ unistudent!johnny knows how hot he is. oh he knows. he also knows that a certain someone has had a crush on him for a very long time. and he also knows youre not confident enough to address it. but this is the catch for you, you see: because he is

Candy Baby ||| Yuta x Reader ❅ ||| lil fluff, humour, lil smutty undertones ~ you and your boyfriend are shopping at a special lingerie store. though not for the reasons that anyone may first expect…

Entranced ||| Yuta x Reader fluff, lil smutty undertones ~ waking up in yutas arms in the morning, bc who doesnt want that

Mishap ||| Yuta x Reader humour, lil fluff? ~ yuta is not known for his woodwork skills. he is also not particularly known for any common sense that would also come with it. however, good things can be made of the worst scenarios, and yuta is not completely inept—no matter what winwin tries to assert.

Cosiest Place on Earth ||| Kun x Reader big fluff, some humour ~ where Kun is relaxing in peace, and a certain someone decides its a prime time to ‘annoy’ him 

Home ||| Kun x Reader ❅ ||| big fluff ~ just cuddling with your long-time boyfriend after a busy day with the rest of wayv

Snow Drift ||| Kun x Reader ❅ ||| fluff, humour ~ going sledding with your boyfriend, what can possibly go wrong?

A Good Reason to Break the Law ||| Doyoung x Reader humour, fluff ~ doyoung does love you. and you wouldnt really call yourself a rule-breaker. yet you always find a way to worry him—which isnt particularly difficult, if you were honest

Baby Baby ||| Doyoung x Reader ♧ ||| fluff ~ a long day out leaves both you and bf!doyoung exhausted, and though its nowhere near over yet, you at least you have each other

Dinosaur ||| Doyoung x Reader fluff, humour, heated elements ~ doyoung was worried to meet your family, but he needn’t have been

Definitions ||| Doyoung x Reader ❅ ||| fluff ~ you’re studying with doyoung after returning home for christmas

Fail-Safe ||| Ten x Reader ❅ ||| big fluff ~ cuddling late at night with your slightly clumsy boyfriend

Aster ||| Jaehyun x Reader ✤ ||| fluff, mildly heated elements ~ just some calm, soft times in bed with a very shirtless jaehyun

Ladder ||| Lucas x Reader ❅ ||| humour, fluff ~ you love your bf lucas, you really do. but sometimes, his chaotic tendencies led him into all kinds of trouble. and you never, ever laugh at him. totally. not even when he puts himself in a compromising position. not even once.

Spirit ||| Xiaojun x Reader ✤ ||| fluff, little bit of sad ~ bed cuddles with your boyfriend after a hard day

Look Down ||| Mark x Reader angst, bits of fluff ~ mark invites you to a pretty bridge at sunset to finally confess to you

Ready ||| Mark x Reader ✧ ||| fluff ~ first time hand-holding with a shy, slightly awkward bean

Beautiful Like the Moon ||| Jeno x Reader ✧ ||| fluff ~ moongazing with your boyfriend to celebrate the end of his birthday

Strength ||| Jeno x Reader fluff ~ even with a cold you cant be stopped, and jeno loves you all the more for it

Sun vs Sun ||| Haechan x Reader humour, fluff ~ playful times out camping with hyuck and the others. but mainly hyuck.

Lung Crusher ||| Johnny x Reader x Haechan ✤ ||| fluff, humour ~ after a long day, you and johnny are peacefully dozing on the sofa. you expected the two of you would be left alone, but youd be wrong

Loved ||| WayV x Reader ✤ ||| big sad, big fluff, big humour ~ everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes, no matter how strong they are. and so when you come home from an awful day in the outside world, you are blessed to have several people come and pick you up again, setting you back on your feet ~ long fic ~ - NOTE: this is the old version of a new multiparter fic seen below, named Love. This version, Loved, will not be edited or updated but will be kept up for the slightly different series of events that it follows in comparison to its new version.

multi-parters

The Code ||| Doyoung x Barista!Reader slight angst, some fluff, mostly a mystery ~ doyoung has a thing for a barista at the best cafe in town, and after finding out the boss there is super strict, he counts his chances out. however, a bizarre set of events lead to an opening for someone clever enough to take it, and luckily his heart has chosen well. Part One ~ where doyoung remembers a special moment and confesses much to his own regret Part Two - coming soon ~ where doyoung begins to find strange numbers on his averley recyclable cups

King and Lionheart ||| King!Jungwoo x RoyalKnight!Reader ♧ ||| angst, fluff ~ inspired by the song of the same name, jungwoo is your king who you serve with your life, and you are his beloved knight in shining armour Part One ~ where you flee with nothing but the clothes on your backs and one another Part Two - coming soon ~ where you fight

Love ||| WayV x Reader ✤ ||| reader big sad, lots of fluff, quite a bit of yearning & foreshadowed drama Main Story ~ everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes, no matter how strong they are. and so when you come home from an awful day in the outside world, you are blessed to have several people come and pick you up again, setting you back on your feet. though, not everything is as a clear cut as you perhaps once thought ~ long fic ~ - slow updates - Ending One - Kun - coming soon . Ending Two - Ten - coming soon . Ending Three - Sicheng - coming soon . Ending Four - Lucas Extra Special fluff, soft angst ~ ft jungwoo & reader; you and xuxi have an impromptu slumber party where your feelings are finally admitted to one another with the accidentally prompting on jungwoo’s behalf . Ending Five - Xiaojun Jigsaw Puzzle fluff, bit of humour ~ after finding the hedgehog’s plastic bowl broken, you and xiaojun head to the pet store to buy a new one . Ending Six - Hendery - coming soon . Ending Seven - Yangyang - coming soon

Camping ||| NCT 127 & WayV x Reader fluff, some spicier elements sometimes ||| choose-your-own-story Start - in progress: 9,575 words collectively so far - - slow updates - ~ where you go camping with nct 127 & wayv, and end up in the most boring tent after dark during a small storm

extra

Vibe Checking NCT ~ don’t ask just read

[goneseriesanalysis]

Drake Merwin

I am soo sorry, this is super late but I got incredibly distracted with reading and forgot that literally anything else existed. Drake was a really hard character for me to analyse because his characterisation was just so disappointing to me - but luckily my intrinsic desire to have everyone hear my opinions prevailed, and so here it is. I hope you enjoy!!

Spoiler Warning: Major spoilers for Gone, Minor spoilers for the rest of the series and the monster trilogy 

Old Opinion: I had a sort of morbid obsession with Drake and thought he was a top-tier villain

New Opinion: So far Drake is tied with Astrid for most-changed opinion. His character has almost no-depth and could be placed in almost any story without changing a single thing about him - and it would make sense. I found myself desperately trying to make him more interesting than he is in an attempt to justify younger me’s obsession - but alas I was unsuccessful. He had a lot of potential, but instead he ended up as a copy-paste villain with no realistic motivations and no real intrigue. 

1.) DRAKE’S APPEARANCE:

Drake is, I think, the character who is best (as in most thoroughly) described in the first book. Not only do we get an idea of his actual appearance beyond the vaguest possible descriptions (sorry to Sam, Caine, Diana and every minor character) but we also get some idea as to the effect his appearance has on other people.  

In Chapter 14, when we are first introduced to the Coates kids, Drake is described as, “a smiling, playful, mean-eyed kid with shaggy, sandy-coloured hair.” I actually really like this description. Contrasting “smiling” and “playful” with “mean” really brilliantly sets Drake up to be a complex villain – the kind of villain we all love to hate, who cracks a joke while slitting your throat. It has the implication of a layered personality but sadly, this is not the villain we get. In fact his character in the first chapter compared to the character we get as the book continues is so drastically different that it almost seems like mg did a complete 180 on his character. An original description is supposed to give us some indication as to what a character is like – their personality and role in the story, and we know that mg can do this really well. (Sam’s non-descript description setting him up to be the underdog, Quinn’s mismatched attire hinting at his inability to fit in, Astrid’s colour scheme reflecting her innocence and religiosity), and so it seems particularly odd, not to mention disappointing, that Drake’s description gives us…nothing. No real indication as to who he is or his purpose other than to hint to him being an antagonist (which we already guessed from his affiliation with Caine.) I could go on and on about what a waste Drake’s character was, but I’ll save it for a later paragraph.

We will then skip ahead to Chapter 37 where both Howard and Lana describe a similarity between Drake and Pack Leader:

“The one time she had seen Drake Merwin. He had made her think of Pack Leader: strong, hyper alert, dangerous. Now, the lean physique looked gaunt, the shark’s grin was a tight grimace, his eyes were red-rimmed. His stare, once languidly menacing, was now intense, burning hot. He looked like someone who had been tortured beyond endurance.”

“The two of them, two of a kind, it seemed to Howard, stared holes into each other.”

This is a much better example of mg using descriptions to establish the purpose of a character. By drawing a comparison between these two, mg sets up Drake’s later role in the books, where he replaces Pack Leader as the gaiphage’s right-hand man. This almost leads me to believe that mg had decided very early on that Drake was going to desert Caine and this is possibly why he seems so out of place and underdeveloped as Caine’s underling in the first two books. Mg had already moved on from this side of his character…and it shows. Lana’s description of Drake also works as a basis for showing the reader how he has changed since losing his arm (before gaining his whip) and acts as an insight into his current mental state – which is important as we don’t get much introspection during Drake’s POV’s. But, I still have a few issues with this. First of all, his “lean physique”. Now this isn’t really a problem all by itself, but unless I have forgotten what 14 year olds looks like (which is a possibility though I doubt it) I don’t think that they should be muscly with minimal body fat. And Drake is not the only character he does this with. Quinn gets extremely muscly later on in the books (I’ll admit that there is a plausible reason behind this so this example isn’t terrible but it’s mentioned like every 5 sentences) and in Fear Caine is described as having wash-board abs. Why are we sexualising children?? Children should be pudgy and awkward and still growing into their bodies, not lean and muscly!! The attractive, damaged man who hates women for no reason at all is also a really really really common trope and tbh I’m just so bored of it. It’s not relatable (at least it shouldn’t be) and it’s just really unimaginative – although it does help us to understand Drake’s character as we’ve seen him before so many times in all types of media. My second issue with this description is the way it really really highlights how much of a waste of character Drake was. The potential of a high-school bully with a skewed world-view due to the death of his father and the later abuse of his mother at the hands of his replacement father figure trying hard to impress the charming “leader” with unimaginable power (that he so desperately wants) only to be undermined at every turn by a girl who teases him by pointing out his flaws and insecurities taking his anger out on everyone around him (especially women) as a way to cope with his childhood traumas then turning into a heartless monster who not only enjoys others pain but lives for it after being “tortured beyond endurance”, was astronomical. But we don’t get that. Instead we get a cheesy, one-dimensional cartoon villain. The change that his body and mind go through after his maiming should have been pivotal to his character, but that just doesn’t come across in the writing. :/ But more on this later.

And last but not least, the whip-hand, which is very important to Drake’s character. It turns his actual body into a weapon and his excitement over this is indicative of his sadistic nature. Again, I think this is an example of a wasted opportunity. I would have liked mg to have gone in to depth about how Drake’s body undergoing this change affected his psyche (and I’m not counting his one-off line in the monster trilogy). I think it could be argued that Drake’s “change” is a metaphor for him going through puberty. Him gaining the whip that ultimately turned him into his very own weapon shows his transition from a child [a little messed up but still just a kid] into a monster, someone who is capable of committing atrocities without a second thought. It would have been particularly interesting for Drake and Orc’s final battle to put some focus on the fact that they both suffer through monstrous physical changes that can be used to represent their shift from children to young adults but whereas one relishes in this, one is completely disgusted. The whip-hand is described as being an “impossible blood-red snake” and then that “It was stretched. Like it had been turned into dark, blood-red taffy. It wrapped twice around his body.” – Both of these occurring in Chapter 39. I don’t have much to comment about this – other than that I think red is great colour choice for Drake, thematically at least.

I know this point was mostly about what Drake could have been as opposed to an actual analysis of his appearance, but I’m just so tired of the attractive misogynistic villain that seems to appear in every single piece of media. His characterisation really bummed me out and put me into a slump so instead of analysing his appearance I decided to roast him instead. But, onto actual analysis now (I am going to further expand on some of the points I made here I promise).

2.) DRAKE’S PERSONALITY AND CHARACTER

I mentioned in the previous point that a lot of Drake’s characterisation seems like an afterthought at best and one of the things that made me think this, is the inconsistencies with his character and the most obvious example of this is the discrepancies with his birthday. In chapter 20, Diana says that his birthday is “April twelfth, just one minute after midnight.” But, in Chapter 33 we get the line “Sooner would be better,’ Drake drawled, ‘what with me having a month.” This is a really small nit-pick, I know, but it just really bugs me that mg overlooked something as simple as a birthday – especially when birthdays are such an important plot point in this book. But anyway, moving on. I promise this whole review isn’t going to be negative.

Backtracking now to Chapter 14. Drake’s character here seems to differ quite drastically from his later characterisation. He seems here to be an example of the laughably evil trope, he has a kind of dry sarcastic humour that is quite fun and seems to lighten the tone of the story a little bit. Rather than showing us the boringly disgusting misogynistic villain that Drake turns out to be, we instead see a funny, charismatic character who seems to prefer picking on those who already have power – as is seen here:

“Drake paused halfway, turned back, and spoke for the first time. In an amused voice he said, ‘Oh, um, Captain Orc? Have your people – the ones who aren’t injured- line up outside. We’ll work out your… um, duties.’                                  With a grin that was almost a snarl, Drake added a cheerful, ‘Later’.” – Chapter 33

Now I understand that the reason we don’t see the real Drake here is because Sam is obviously not yet aware of his true personality – my issue lies in the fact that based on just this small excerpt here, I expected so much more from his character. We get hints of his sadistic nature here, with him joking about Cookie’s horrific injury and clearly taking joy in exerting power over Orc, but it is evenly balanced by the fact that he’s kind of amusing and we don’t really like Orc at this point anyway. Can we see that something isn’t quite right with him?? Yes. But do we kind of like him anyway?? Well I did. At this point. I would have really loved it if mg had carried on this idea of Drake abusing those who already have power – him enjoying to take down bully after bully so he can be King bully, instead of him picking on people who he perceives as weak and vulnerable. Mg relying on misogyny as a motivator is just really disappointing to me because there is no depth to it, and it’s pretty lazy. He hates Diana because she is a woman and he sees women as beneath him?? Weak. Over-used. Dull. He hates Diana because she has  power over Caine in a way that he never can, which makes him feel insecure in himself and the fragile sense of stability and power that he has struggled to cultivate within his damaged psyche?? Yes pls. Not only would this have made Drake a much more engaging character, but it would also have made his desertion of Caine in hunger much more impactful. And while I think there are aspects of this within his character, which I will go into later, I wish there had been more of it. Again, I’m sorry that this has become more of a “what could have been” rather than an analysis but there really is just so little to analyse without just pointing out obvious facts and statements. There’s no spice here :/

Moving on now to Chapter 16, where we as an audience, as well as the characters within the book, begin to realise what Drake truly is – an unhinged madman. We are told by Sam that Drake has been abusing his power as Sheriff – which particularly stands out as, so far at least, Drake is the only member of Coates who has shown this kind of behaviour (Caine is actually a pretty sound leader until he loses his shit and attacks Sam). And this is the first major distinction that we get between Caine and Drake and their capacity as villains in the story. Caine is a bad person who will do bad things to achieve his goals, he is power-hungry and ambitious but he is not needlessly violent. Everything he does he (in his own mind) is able to justify as it helps him to achieve his vision. Drake, on the other hand, doesn’t really seem to have an end goal. He is violent for the sake of being violent – he is a sadist who enjoys the suffering of other people as we see here, “Drake was more than a little scary. Kids who defied Drake or any of his so-called sheriff’s had been slapped, punched, pushed, knocked down or, in one case, dragged into a bathroom and given a swirlie. Fear of Drake was replacing fear of the unknown.” Now, we still don’t get to see the full extent of Drake’s madness here. Most of the crimes listed are pretty mundane bully things – they’re still wrong, but they aren’t life-threatening. He hasn’t bashed anyone’s head in with a baseball bat. While Caine is playing with politics, Drake seems unable to move past his role of high school bully. If he had played it right, the role of Sheriff would have been perfect for him. I mean, how many actual police officers get away with literal murder in the name of “upholding the law”?? But he is unable of seeing the bigger picture, unable to grow and fit the new world order as Caine does so naturally, and so, instead of properly taking on the role of Sheriff and building up his own authority in this way, he turns back to his tried and tested method – hurt them and they’ll fall in line.

I particularly enjoy this as I think it explains, a little bit more, why he hates Diana and Astrid so much. Now I know the bottom line is simply that he is a violent misogynist – but that doesn’t explain why he hates Diana and Astrid specifically. Is it because they’re both attractive women and he is unable to distinguish sex and violence in his head?? Partly yes, but then Taylor is also described as attractive (and most people find her annoying) and yet he doesn’t seem to hate her to this extent. I think the real reason he hates these two specifically, more than anyone else, is because he simply cannot understand them – and that scares him (although he is unwilling to admit it). Drake only knows how to gain power through violence – he sees this work at home, he used it on Holden, he used it to gain his reputation at Coates and, although he has the ability to gain authority in other ways, he continues to use this method even now in the FAYZ. Diana and Astrid cannot do this, they are not fit to fight, they are not able to use violence to assert their status – and yet they both have more power in the FAYZ than he does. They make him question his whole world view and, as he cannot or will not adapt to the new hierarchy of the FAYZ, he resorts to trying to destroy them, in order to return the world to what it was before. His hatred of others gaining power through (what he sees as) unconventional means is then further established with his dislike of actual powers and the people who have them:

“I’m sick of all this powers crap. You saw what we did to freaks at Coates?? Who do you think it was that took care of that?? All these kids with their stupid so-called powers. Starting fires and moving stuff around and reading your mind and all?? Who do you think it was grabbed them one by one in their sleep and beat them down and when they woke up their hands were setting in a block of cement??

[…]

That’s right. And I didn’t even have a gun then. It’s not about who’s got powers, morons. It’s about who’s not afraid. And who’s going to do what has to be done.”

We get told by Diana that it was Drake’s idea to cement the kids in the first place (and a bad one at that) and I really think that is all the evidence you need to see that Drake’s hatred and fear all stem from his complete inability to adapt. He is trapped in a cycle of abuse that started with his father, a police officer who teaches him how to shoot people (however unwillingly) and is then continued by his step-father (an actual abuser) rendering him incapable of recognising any kind of authority if it is not gained from violent means. And so of course he hates the powers – none of the kids gained their powers through suffering or through causing suffering. They didn’t earn their authority in any valid way, according to him. (This is also another reason why I think Drake was so ecstatic at gaining his whip-hand. He suffered for it and therefore, in his twisted mind, he earned it. It is physical proof of his supposed power over these kids.) It’s tragic really – but mg then goes on to make him so disgustingly unsympathetic that his story loses its meaning. I love mg’s writing but Drake’s character truly was butchered for shock value and plot convenience and it makes me so sad.

Ok back to Chapter 16. Here, not only do we hear about some of the things that Drake is capable of, but we see them as well. His beat-down of Orc is the first indicator we get that Drake is someone we should really be afraid of. Heads up, this is a long quote:

“Nobody move,’ Drake said.                                                                                    Orc pushed Edilio off and jumped to his feet. He started kicking Edilio, landing size-eleven Nike blows into Edilio’s defensive arms. Sam jumped in to help his friend, but Drake was quicker. He stepped behind Orc, grabbed him by the hair, yanked his head back, and smashed his elbow into Orc’s face. Blood poured from Orc’s nose, and he howled in rage. Drake hit him again and released Orc to fall to the concrete.                                                                                                ‘Which part of “nobody move” did you not understand, Orc?’ Drake demanded. Orc rose to his knees and went for Drake like a linebacker, Drake stepped aside, nimble as a matador. He stuck his hand out and said to Chaz, ‘Give me that.’    Chaz handed him the bat.                                                                                        Drake hit Orc in the ribs with a short, sharp forwards thrust of the bat. Then again in the kidneys and again in the side of the head. Each blow was measured, accurate, effective. Orc rolled over on to his back, helpless, exposed. Drake pushed the thick end of the bat against Orc’s throat.                                  ‘Dude. You really need to learn to listen when I talk.’                                              Then Drake laughed, stepped back, twirled the bat in the air, caught it and rested it on his shoulder. He grinned at Sam.”

“Sam had gone up against bullies before. But he’d never seen anything like Drake Merwin. Orc outweighed Drake by at least fifty pounds, but Drake had handled him like a little toy action figure.”

Orc has already been established as the top bully in Perdido beach – we’ve already seen that our main character is afraid of him – and for good reason. And so for Orc to be defeated so casually and so easily is shocking. It lets us know that the old world order has collapsed and old fears are fading away with it, with new, much more threatening adversaries taking their place. I actually think that this scene was exceptionally clever of mg. Drake is attacking someone who has already been set up as an antagonist, at the same time rescuing Edilio, who the reader has been conditioned to like. But, through context clues, we know that this is not a good thing. It sets up the villainous nature of the Coates kids, Orc’s redemption, Drake and Orc’s rivalry and Sam’s fear of Drake. And it feels natural, even after re-reading the book multiple times. It’s scenes like these that really remind me how great of a writer mg is.

Another thing I really wanted to talk about here IS Drake and Orc’s rivalry because, yet again, I think mg missed a huge opportunity with this. Drake and Orc are very similar before, and in the early days of the FAYZ. Both have abusive fathers (a step-father in Drake’s case but still), both enjoy asserting their power over people through violent means and both are put in positions of power that they are unable to fully take advantage of – Sheriff and Sheriff Deputy. And even as the books continue, similarities can still be found. They both suffer mutations that turn their bodies into grotesque weapons, dehumanising them and alienating them from their peers and That Scene in Plague tells us that Orc and Drake sometimes have similar “desires”. Their stories are constantly intertwined, with them being played off of each other from the start and Orc becoming Drake’s jailor later on (and in turn Drake sort of becoming his). Their differences come from their reactions to the horrific acts of violence they have committed – and of course why they do them. I’m going to make a whole separate post on this because it’s long enough to be a standalone, but my I just wish mg had played up both their similarities and differences more. It would have made Drake so much more interesting.

We also get more hints at his sadism in this scene. He is later unbothered that Betty has been hurt and it seems that the only reason he attacked Orc was because it gave him an opportunity to assert his dominance over him. All in all, this is one of my personal favourite scenes in the book as it establishes characters, themes and relationships very well. I just wish some of these had been developed further – but mg dropping certain aspects of the story does seem to be a common problem.

The final thing I wanted to talk about in regards to Drake’s personality and character is this line we get in Chapter 23, “It was small, just two bedrooms, very neat, very organised, the way Drake liked things.” This was another thing that irked me slightly. It’s such a small aspect of his characterisation but it reinforced the idea that drake is just another cookie-cutter villain with no real personality, nothing that makes him stand out in the sea of white male psychopaths with a hatred for women. His whole character could be replaced with any other misogynistic psychopath at no detriment to the story. My immediate though when reading this was that even the smallest aspects of his character can be seen in other, more developed villains – this line in particular is hugely reminiscent of Patrick Bateman. Nothing seems to be his own. No aspect of his character is even remotely unique. (I think this may also be why some young fans develop an obsession with him. His character is comfortable because we’ve seen it so many times before.) He is so entirely replaceable and replicable - only reason he isn’t completely forgettable is because you are constantly plagued by the horrific things he has done. Mg sacrificed depth and development for shock value and it’s so disappointing

3.) DRAKE’S PAST

Onto Drake’s life before the FAYZ. Not only does Drake receive some of the longest and most POV time in this book, he is also the character whose life before the FAYZ we learn the most about (with the possible exception of Sam). This is especially shocking to think about seen as Drake is arguably one of the most underdeveloped characters in the whole book, but anyway. There are two scenes I’m going to talk about here, both occurring in Chapter 23, with the first being his dad teaching him how to shoot. I apologise in advance for the long quote:

“His father had taught him how to shoot, using his service pistol. Drake still remembered the first time.

[…]

He remembered the way his father had taught him to grip the butt firmly but not too tight. To rest his right hand in the palm of his left and sight carefully, to turn his body sideways to present a smaller target if someone was shooting back. His father had had to yell because they were both wearing ear protection.                  ‘If you’re target shooting, you centre the front sight in the notch of the rear sights. Raise it till your sights are sitting right under your target. Let your breath out slowly and squeeze.’                                                                                          That first bang, the recoil, the way the gun jumped six inches, the smell of the powder – it was all as clear in Drake’s mind as any memory he had.                                                                                                                                                   […]

‘What if I’m not shooting if I’m not shooting at a target?’ He’d asked his father. ‘What if I’m shooting at a person?’                                                                          ‘Don’t shoot a person,’ his father had said. But then he relented, relieved no doubt to find something he could share with his disturbing son. ‘Different people will tell you different techniques. But if it’s me, say I’m doing a traffic stop and I think I see he citizen reaching for a weapon, and I’m thinking I may have to take a quick shot? I just point. Point like the barrel is a sixth finger. You point and if you have to fire, you shoot half the clip, bang, bang, bang, bang.’                    ‘Why do you shoot so many times?’                                                                    ‘Because if you have to shoot, you shoot to kill. Situation like that, you’re not aiming carefully for his head or his heart, you’re pointing at the centre of mass and you’re hoping you get a lucky shot., but if you don’t, if all you’re hitting is shoulder or belly, the sheer velocity of the rounds will knock him down.”

Ok so the first thing I want to analyse here, is how important this memory clearly is to Drake. He remembers it fondly, in immense detail and seems to call back on it when he needs to clear his head (notice how this memory is placed while Drake is trying to figure out what to do, not while he is doing it.) It seems that rather than just using this memory as a source of useful information, it is also a source of comfort to him. Now there are some things that I really wish mg had told us that would help to analyse this scene better, like: How old was Drake when this memory took place?? How old was Drake when his father died?? How did his father die?? But alas, we don’t know these things (at least not that I’m aware of, and not within this book) so I’m going to try and do the best I can with the information that we have. Now, in Light, Drake makes it seem like his step-fathers behaviour has been significant in forming his worldview – which makes sense, trauma does that. But he spends half of his time away at Coates, which says to me that for this behaviour to have had such a profound effect on him, his step-father must have been around for a while. Right?? I’m gonna take a guess at 3-4 years at the least. Give Drake’s mother about a year to meet and start dating this man after the passing of her husband – this means that Drake would have been around 9/10 at the latest when this scene took place. That’s pretty young. Like, this is a formative memory and from the way it’s written, it seems like this may be some of the only bonding that Drake and his father ever did together. No wonder Drake has such an unhealthy obsession with guns as is seen with these quotes:

“He started from Astrid’s house, which was already beginning to smoke. He worked his way methodically, a hunter, looking for any movement. Each time he spotted someone walking or running or biking, he would take a look at them through the rifle scope, line them up in the crosshairs.                                        He felt like God. All he had to do was squeeze the trigger.” – Chapter 23

“Drake kept all three guns loaded all the time. They were set out on the dining room table, a display, something to be gazed at lovingly.” – Chapter 23

“Drake could not leave the gun alone. He kept thumbing the safety on and off. He rolled down the window and aimed it at stop signs as they passed, but did not fire.” – Chapter 31

Drake shooting Sam and his gleeful reaction – Chapter 34

For him, guns are the ultimate symbol of power and authority. He was introduced to these weapons of incredible power at such a young age – of course he loves them. That being said, it seems that Drake has always been “disturbed” so I suppose we can’t fully blame his father and step-father for his mind-set – and I have to say I don’t really like this. Drake’s issue as a character is that he is completely de-humanised by all the horrific things he does. By having it seem like Drake was irredeemable from the off-set, it just adds to this idea and again removes any possible depth or character development. Imo it would have been much better to present Drake as becoming the way he is AFTER his father’s death. It would bring a sense of tragedy to his character – the way he uses his father’s advice to hunt down Astrid would seem less like a by-product of his sadism and more like a misguided attempt to feel connected to his deceased father.

However, flawed though it is, this scene does give us some insight as to why Drake is the way he is – through the characterisation of his father. Admittedly we don’t get much, but one line really stood out to me, “Because if you have to shoot, you shoot to kill.” Ummm..sir?? I don’t think that’s how police officers work. Isn’t your goal to incapacitate – not to just kill on sight?? The fact that he not only stands by this rule himself, but also gives this advice to his CHILD is disconcerting. Drake is not only receiving this harmful rhetoric from his father figure but also a police officer. Someone who is meant to uphold the law. I think this links back to my earlier point on how Drake only recognises authority if it is gained by violent means. While we get no indication that his real father was ever violent to Drake or his mother, he openly tells Drake that when he is upholding the law (in this hypothetical situation) he does it by using force. That is a dangerous thing to tell a child, especially a child who you already think is disturbed. This twisted-take on a father-son relationship nicely sets the precedent for Drake’s warped perceptions, I just wish it had been developed further. And this leads us nicely into the next scene – the shooting of Holden:

“He remembered with vivid, slow-motion detail the time he had shot Holden, the neighbour’s kid who liked to come over and annoy him. That had been a bullet to the thigh, with a low-level calibre gun, and still the kid had nearly died. That ‘accident’ had landed Drake at Coates.”

Again, first and foremost I just wish we had a little bit more information. It is not clear whether this situation occurred before or after his father’s death – which seems like a pretty important detail to me. Although, we don’t actually find out that Drake’s father is dead within this book, and this omission again makes me feel like mg adding that detail was little more than an after-thought. It feels like in Light he wanted to quickly try and make Drake more of a sympathetic character and so he added in an abusive step-dad to try and tone down or at least explain Drake’s violence and misogyny. It seems like Drake is a plot-point first and a character second and the lack of detail here really highlights that for me. What purpose did these scenes really have in the story?? They did very little to flesh out his character, they introduced no new themes or relationships. It seems like mg just wanted to let us know – “Hey! Drake knows how to use a gun. That’s gonna be important later.” That being said, there are a couple of other things I would like to quickly mention. Firstly, I think the fact that Drake did not aim to kill Holden, even though he could have, is meant to be indicative of his change between then and now. It’s done to tell us that Drake wasn’t always this bad – there was at one point some hope. For this to have the desired effect though, I really think mg should have waited until after Drake lost his arm to straight up try and murder Astrid and Little Pete. Like, you can’t tell us that Drake was a little messed up but still redeemable before his maiming and then go and have him try to kill a random girl and her five year old brother. Because that’s more than a little messed up (and that’s not even mentioning the cementing). And it also contrasts the idea that Drake has always been disturbed. An idea that was introduced to us not even a page ago!! The other thing I wanted to pick up on, which I actually quite liked, is the ambiguous “who liked to come over and annoy him.” Because this is Drake’s point of view – so “annoy” could mean anything. Was Holden actually just an annoying kid?? Was he just trying to be Drake’s friend?? Or was he actually a bully and Drake doesn’t want to admit it?? I guess we’ll never know.

4.) DRAK’ES MOTIVATIONS

For this point, I wanted to focus on three particular motivators: Caine, Diana and Astrid. These are the three people, I believe, who provide, either consciously or unconsciously, the motivation for his actions within the FAYZ. I’ll start first with Astrid and Diana, the two people who Drake hates the most. Throughout this book it is clear that Drake has no real goals – he has no desire to be in control like Caine, no desire to re-invent the world like Albert. All he wants is to cause pain, with his preferred targets being these two. And, as I’ve said before, I think this is partly because he hates the authority that they have within the FAYZ – which stems from manipulation and intelligence rather than violence.

In Chapter 20, Drake explains his hatred for Diana, “Drake had made the time to check out Diana’s psych file the day after the FAYZ came. But her file had been missing by then. In its place she had left Drake’s file lying open on the doc’s desk and drawn a little smiley face beside the word ‘sadist’.                                Drake had already hated her. But after that, hating Diana had become a full-time occupation.” What I take from this scene, is that Drake’s loathing stems from Diana’s ability to get under his skin, to make him feel inferior – to annoy him. (Perhaps Holden had a similar talent). I’m going to assume that his prior hatred of her can be boiled down to his misogyny and his disgust at Caine’s weakness for her, both of which have been explicitly stated in the text. His hatred after this though, comes from a pretty mundane incident. I mean all she did was get there quicker, and do exactly what he was going to do to her. And so I think this loathing is less about what she did and more about his own personal reaction to it. Diana was able to weaponise Drake’s own anger against him – to make him feel inferior and powerless. She challenges Drake’s fragile perception of authority and takes a diagnosis that he seems to not only be ok with, but is actually proud of, and makes him feel embarrassed. His whole perception of power is rooted in the idea that his ability to inflict pain on others with no guilt or remorse is what makes him better, it is what gives him his power. But she takes this idea and belittles him for it and so his initial reaction is to attack. This is an idea that is again seen with Astrid. Astrid intentionally tries to make Drake feel inferior by bringing up his biggest insecurity, Diana’s treatment of him “Doesn’t it bother you that Diana treats you like some wild animal she keeps on a leash?” And she does escape him – twice. Her and her autistic brother (and we already know how Drake feels about autistic people). She also proves herself to be more intelligent than him, in their little argument over the r-slur. Drake only gets violent after he realises that, in an intellectual sense, she has more power than him. It seems to be his defence mechanism just as much as his pleasure – and therefore Astrid and Diana’s power over him motivates him to use it.

Now onto Caine. Caine and Drake’s relationship is, for me, one of the most interesting aspects of Drake’s character and while I’ll only be mentioning it in its capacity as a motivator here, I have a whole post planed out for it. Drake seems to simultaneously hate Caine and admire him. He is constantly looking to impress him and the only time we ever see Drake think about betraying him in this book is when Caine gives his attention to Diana rather than Drake. And, because of this, I can kind of understand why people ship them (although I personally dislike the idea of Drake being gay). A lot of the time this motivation is completely unprompted by Caine himself, like in these quotes:

“Drake cursed and, again, for just a moment, felt the almost desperate fear of failing Caine. He wasn’t worried about what Caine would do to him – after all, Caine needed him – but he knew if he failed to carry out Caine’s orders, Diana would laugh.” – Chapter 23

“I got him’ Drake announced. ‘I got them all.’                                                    ‘Yes, you did,’ Caine said. ‘Good work, Drake.” – Chapter 34

In Chapter 23, it seems that both Drake’s need to impress Caine and his need to prove to himself that he is better than Diana are his main motivators for his extreme attack on Astrid. I think it’s important to note that he only planned on trying to catch her, until Caine told him to kill her. His sadistic nature is brought out in full because he needs to prove himself to Caine. But why does he?? If he is planning on taking over from Caine in the end, why does he have a “desperate fear of failing Caine”?? Sure, part of it is his desire to prove himself to be better than Diana. But even this has roots in his absolute need for Caine to take notice of him. Drake is drawn to Caine because of his power and authority over people. Caine seems to be the closest thing that Drake can get to an equal, someone who shares the same motivations, ambitions and worldview (of course Caine and Drake do not share these things, but Drake doesn’t realise this…yet.) He seeks validation from Caine because he wants to have these things in common with someone – yet another motivation for his hatred of Diana as she constantly gets in the way of this.

We also know that Caine is, at least, partly aware of his effect on Drake. He is paranoid that Drake will turn on him (because Caine sees being equal to someone as relinquishing power) and he is able to manipulate Drake’s misguided feelings when he wants to – most notably in Chapter 36:

“It’s not Diana or Chunk or even me,’ Caine said. ‘It’s none of us, Drake. It’s Sam. It’s Sam who did this to you, Drake. You want him to get away with it? Or do you want to live long enough to make him suffer?”

This is such a clever moments as it sets up Drake’s whole character in Hunger, and it’s false. Because yes, Sam is the one who burned Drake’s arm and Drake has every right and reason to hate him. But it was Caine who abandoned him to save himself. And it was Caine who refused to let Drake die, even though he was begging for it (and let’s face it, he didn’t refuse to kill him out of any affection – it was a selfish decision.) But Drake is so desperate for that equal, for that validation that his worldview is correct and is shared by another person, that he just idk forgets?? He never brings up this conversation again and just accepts Caine’s word as gospel. I have so much more to say about their relationship but, as I said, I’ll save it for a later post.

5.) DRAKE’S MENTAL STATE

And finally, we have Drake’s mental state. Now I’m not going to try and give him an official diagnosis or anything, but I wanted to make a small point specifically about his mental state after his maiming. I think we can all agree that what Drake went through was pretty horrific, and while I personally struggle to feel any amount of sympathy for him due his own list of horrific crimes, the change he goes through after this is extremely significant, or at least it’s supposed to be. I think mg wants us to believe that Drake’s descent into madness was directly cause by the loss of his arm, and that before that he did have the chance to be redeemed. I think whether you buy into this depends on how forgiving you are, but I want to focus more on the actual proof of change that we see.

I’ve already talked about the physical changes he goes through, and the implications of this so I’m going to focus solely on his mental state during and partly after the whole ordeal. I think the first and most important thing to talk about is the fact that Drake didn’t actually want to survive:

“Don’t cut off my arm,’ Drake cried. ‘Let me die. Just let me die. Shoot me.” – Chapter 36

He would rather die than lose his arm (his gun arm to be specific). Now, while I don’t doubt that the burning was indescribably painful, I’m still not sure that the majority of people would beg for death. Especially when an alternative (in this case losing his arm) is presented. Not to mention, he doesn’t actually talk about the pain when begging for his death – what he talks about is the loss of his arm. Of course it could be argued that the reason he didn’t want his arm to be cut off is because he knew it would mean more pain, but I don’t think that this is the case. Rather, I think that Drake is so scared of losing the power that he has, that he would genuinely rather die. This 14 year old boy is so messed up that his own death is preferable to the idea of no longer being able to hurt people. And so when he gets his power back, he doubles down. He has realised by this point what he truly wants, that he would rather die than be rendered powerless, so he begins committing more heinous acts (like attacking the prees). Pair this with the amount of pain that he went through, which most definitely will have had an effect on his already damaged brain, and you can see how a high-school bully became what he did. The groundwork for an interesting and though-provoking character was right here. I think yet again the problem with his character is the execution. Interesting aspects of his personality are dropped in favour of plot convenience and shock value and it cheapens his character as a whole until all the intended nuances are lost and over-shadowed.

I’m really sorry if this is a bit all over the place and not quite as polished as my other posts. I found Drake so difficult to write about and so my thoughts kept going haywire. Thank you so much for reading (and being patient with my brain). I hope you enjoy!!

[crownjimin]

094 | soora date, part one.

la vie en rose ━ in which lee aera, a girl who has been crushing on choi soobin for a long, long time, is starting her junior year and her friends decide that its time for her to make her move.

A/N: after a long awaited month, and some terrible writers block, you are presented with the chapter that all of these posts have built up to. part two will be posted on friday, enjoy!

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From the moment Sooyung woke up on Saturday morning, everything burst into chaos.

Her phone housed multiple panicked texts from Jiah and Haeun, both of them freaking out about Aera’s reaction and if any of this was a good idea. (Sooyung herself wasn’t sure, so she left those unanswered). Hyunjin had also texted Sooyung, but his messages had less capital letters and a significantly less amount of exclamation points and distressed spongebob memes in comparison to Jiah and Haeun, so Sooyung answered his texts instead.

Once she answered his messages, she began getting ready for the day, since it was a big one after all. She had woken up at a quarter to noon, so she only had about thirty minutes to get ready before she had to meet Soobin at the park to make sure everything was set by the time one o’clock came around. Luckily for her--well not really luckily since Sooyung knew that she was most likely going to sleep in late anyway--she had packed away the food her mom prepared the night before and had already picked out her outfit, so all that was left for her to do now was get dressed and to brush her teeth and style her hair.

As she was brushing her hair, her phone rang with Ae Ae would like to FaceTime… popping up on the screen, and she quickly answered the call.

“‘Ello?” Sooyung muttered once she answered the call, focused on her hair. “Ae Ae, what’s up?”

“So, um,” Rumbling sounded through the phone, with the camera going black for a second before Aera’s floor was visible. “You told me I needed to dress suitable for this picnic--which I don’t know why because we are just sitting on the ground and eating food--but what exactly does suitable mean?”

Sooyung laughed to herself briefly, because of course Aera would describe a picnic as eating food on the ground, before she answered, “Suitable means wear a dress, Aera. Put on a dress.”

“But it’s cold out!” Sooyung could hear the pout in Aera’s voice, a pristine visual of her best friend’s pouty lips showing in her mind. “My legs will literally freeze off.”

“It’s not that cold, you’re being dramatic. If you are that worried, put on a sweater.”

Aera’s face then popped up on the camera, a worried glint in her eye. “I don’t have any sweaters.”

“Now you’re just lying,” Sooyung said, picking up her phone as she left the bathroom and walked down the stairs. She entered the kitchen, where her mother was sorting through the containers of food, making sure everything she prepared was safely tucked away. “Find a sweater, wear a cute dress, and please show up on time.”

“Okay, okaaaay,” Aera cheered as she yanked a piece of clothing into the view of the camera next to her face. “This dress okay?”

Upon further inspection (Sooyung squinting and bringing the phone super close to her face), Sooyung realized Aera was holding up a white, jean overall dress, which as Aera pointed out earlier, she would freeze her legs (and arms!!) off in.

“Ae, Ae you at least need sleeves.”

“I’m going to wear a long sleeve shirt underneath!” Aera shouted. “I just need to find one first.”

Sooyung noticed her mom leaning against the counter, with her arms crossed and look on her face that told Sooyung that her mom wanted to speak with her. So, at that, Sooyung knew it was time to wrap up the call.

“Okay, Ae Ae, that’s decent enough. Remember to be at the park at one-thirty sharp, okay?”

“One-thirty, on the dot. Got it, Yungie.”

And with that, the call disconnected. Quickly, Sooyung shoved her phone into the back pocket of her jeans and looked to her mom to see what she had to say.

“So, run by me again why you’re having a picnic at the beginning of November, when the temperatures are almost unsuitable to be picnicking in,” her mom began rambling as Sooyung fixed herself a small breakfast.

“Well, mom,” Sooyung took a bite of an apple. “There’s this guy, Soobin, who likes Aera. And he wants to confess to her-”

“Is Soobin the kid that Aera mentioned last year,” Her mother asked. “The super tall one with dimples?”

Sooyung nodded.

“Okay, continue.”

“Well, he enlisted the help of me, Jiah, and Haeun-” A brief ‘Oh boy’, came from her mother, but Sooyung simply ignored it. “-to help him confess. So we put together this little picnic for him, so he can do it at the park.”

Her mother nodded at that, a charmed and affectionate glint in her eye. “That’s sweet, Yung-ah. And does Aera like him back?”

“Yes, she really does, which is why I want everything to go as smooth as possible, so we have to leave soon,” Sooyung finished off her apple and threw the core into the trash can. “I told Soobin we’d get to the park before one to set everything up.”

“Alright,” Her mother headed over to the bowl placed by the front door and grabbed her keys. “What am I doing with the food, is there a basket?”

“Yes,” Sooyung pointed at her mother as she answered, “But Jiah has it, so we can’t put the food in it until we get to the park.”

Sooyung’s mother moved back to the kitchen, taking the containers of food into her hands. “I’m going to begin loading these into the car. We can leave now, and I’ll help with the final touches, okay?”

Sooyung nodded, polishing off the glass of water she started to drink before she pulled out her phone and texted the soora world domination group chat.

@ yunggoddess: leaving the house now, the first step of the last phase is about to start.

────────────────

For Soobin, the entire Saturday morning, he was freaking out. He had never put so much thought and effort into something like he did for this date with Aera. Even though Sooyung was the one to initially come up with the idea to have a picnic, Soobin thought of virtually everything else.

He had made sure that all of the food that Sooyung’s mother was preparing were things that Aera liked, he made sure that the flowers Haeun was going to pick up would be something that conveyed his feelings for Aera perfectly. (They ultimately decided on a combination of white carnations and red chrysanthemums, something that came about after extensive research was done on flowers and their meanings.)

But while settling the food and flowers was a hassle, choosing the perfect outfit for the special day seemed even harder than Soobin was anticipating. Hyunjin was on outfit duty, something unanimously decided based on the way he dresses himself on occasions that aren’t as important as first dates and crush confessions.

“Soob, you can’t wear jeans,” Hyunjin said, tearing through his friends closet for a decent pair of slacks. “That’s heinous. I won’t allow it.”

Soobin groaned, his head in his hands. “I’m so freaking nervous, Jin. What if everything doesn’t go as planned?”

“It will,” the sound of a hanger being pulled from the closet was heard before a pair of khaki slacks were thrown in Soobin’s face. “Don’t worry about it, seriously. Now put those on while I find a shirt.”

Wordlessly, Soobin stood to take off the sweats he was already wearing, his heart beating at an alarming rate, to the point where it hurt to even swallow. Everything seemed unreal, like it was a dream and Soobin wasn’t actually in charge of his own actions.

As he pulled the first leg of the slacks onto his body, he stopped for a second to glimpse at the article of clothing. When did he buy a pair of khaki slacks? 

“Jin, you got these from my closet?” Soobin called out as he zipped up and buttoned the pants.

“Uh, yeah,” his friend responded. “Where else would I get them from? Put these on.” A white shirt and purple sweater are thrown, once again, in Soobin’s face.

“A purple sweater with purple hair,” Soobin mindlessly muttered. “Won’t that clash?”

Hyunjin paused at that, looking hard at his friend before he motioned for Soobin to put the sweater on. Soobin complied, feeling a bit awkward as his friend’s heavy and scrutinizing gaze set on him. 

“I think,” Hyunjin took a brief pause. “I think it’s fine. Soob,” Hyunjin’s hands come up to ruffle Soobin’s hair as a fond expression came across his face. “You’re really about to get a girlfriend, dude.”

“I know,” Soobin huffed a deep breath. “At least I hope so.”

Hyunjin patted Soobin’s head twice and then sent two thumbs up his way. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Soobin nodded. “Yeah.”

The two of them descended the stairs of Soobin’s house, meeting up with Soobin’s mother, Ruha, who sat on the couch in the living room.

“We all ready to go boys?” She asked, rising to her feet. She was accompanying them to the park since it was quite far from their house and neither Soobin or Hyunjin could drive themselves. 

The boys nodded coupled with sounds of approval and the three of them left the house. Once in the car, Ruha turned over the engine and they were off. 

“So, Soob,” his mother called out. “You nervous?”

When Soobin had asked his mom to take Hyunjin and him to the park on Saturday, she readily agreed since it wasn’t out of the ordinary for her son and his friends to spend their free time at the park. And she planned to leave it at that, but on Wednesday afternoon, when Soobin came home from school, he asked his mother when she went on her first date, what gift she would have liked to receive.

Now Ruha, as a normal human being who was once a teenager herself, knew that one day Soobin was going to start dating. But for some reason, when he asked her this question, she felt scared. Scared for Soobin and the future of his heart, but also scared that her son was really growing up and felt ready to go on his first date.

Once she got past the initial shock, she asked her son about why he was asking these things and specifically, for who he was asking for. And that’s when everything came spilling out, about how Soobin liked someone, he was planning to confess to her, and that he had no idea what he and his friends were doing.

She had suspicions that Aera was that someone, because she hadn’t known about Soobin spending time with anyone outside of his usual group of friends, besides her. So with some prying and not so sly alluding, Ruha got Soobin to admit that, yes, it was Aera, and that Saturday at the park was when he was going to confess.

Ruha was on board one hundred percent, telling Soobin then and there that she wanted to be present when he decided to make this big step. She wasn’t going to stay the entire date, but she wanted to help set up and see Aera before everything went down, so on the drive to the park she was excited and ready for her son to express his feelings for the first time ever.

“I’m a bit nervous,” Soobin honestly answered, rubbing his sweaty palms onto his khaki pants. “Like, everything should be perfect, it should be, but the part where I have to voice my feelings is what is getting to me.”

Ruha made a sympathetic sound, to let Soobin know that she was listening and that she understood his hesitancy, “Just remember to take a deep breath before you start pouring your heart out. Take your time, collect your th-”

“Just tell her you love her,” Hyunjin interrupted from the backseat. “Tell her you haven’t stopped thinking about her since you met her.”

“Or,” Ruha nodded in agreement with Hyunjin. “You can do that.”

Soobin raised an eyebrow in confusion and slightly in embarrassment that Hyunjin so carelessly threw around the ‘L’ word when he mentioned Soobin’s feelings for Aera. Soobin never thought about if he loved Aera or not, but he did know that he liked her. And that was enough.

“I’ll do something, which most likely will not be using the ‘L’ word, but thanks.”

From there, the car ride passed in a blur. Hyunjin texted the group chat when they arrived and at which side of the park there were at, and a few minutes later Sooyung and her mom showed up carrying the multiple containers of food. Hyunjin, Soobin, and Ruha rushed to help them with the containers, and Soobin and Sooyung’s moms introduced themselves to one another.

“Where are Jiah and Haeun?” Hyunjin asked, leading the group on the path into the park.

“Jiah is heading this way now,” Sooyung nodded further down the path where Jiah and her mom where heading towards the three of them. “And Haeun is running a bit late. She said the flower shop was packed.”

“I thought she ordered ahead of time,” Soobin said.

“She did. It’s just the flower shop only has two workers, and when thirty people are asking for multiple types of flowers, it can get backed up,” Sooyung explained. But Soobin didn’t like that answer and Sooyung noticed the deflation in his expression so she rectified it by saying,”But don’t worry! She’ll be here. We still have thirty minutes before Aera is set to show. We’ll be fine.”

Jiah made her way towards them, the basket and blanket she was tasked with bringing in hand and her mother trailed not too far behind. As expected, her mother went to group up with Sooyung’s and Soobin’s mother, while the four of them set off into the park to find a nice spot to set camp for their picnic.

Originally, the Soora World Domination group thought that finding a place for the picnic was going to be easy, thinking that not a lot of people would want to have a picnic when the temperatures were dropping faster with the fall season coming into swing, but they were sorely mistaken. 

Everywhere they turned were people. Some walked their dogs, others playing instruments idly, some painted with their friends, and others (like the SWD group were there to do) were having picnics.

“So,” Jiah trailed off as they stopped walking on the path and surveyed their surroundings. “We didn’t anticipate such a large crowd.”

“How can a park,” Hyunjin huffed. “With like, a hundred acres-”

“I don’t think a hundred is accurate, but continue.” Sooyung pitched in.

And continue, Hyunjin did. “-Be completely occupied? Like all of it?” 

“Well,” Soobin was prepared to respond, but Jiah cut him off.

“Wait, Soobin,” Jiah shot out her arm to catch the other three’s attention. “Aera said something about you showing her a waterfall when you guys came here before. Where is it?”

“Uh,” Soobin spun in a circle, surveying the park. “Back towards the South side of the park, it’s super hidden so it should be vacant.”

Hyunjin and Sooyung perked up at that.

“Well lead the way, Choi,” Sooyung shouted. “We only have twenty minutes left!”

The four of them (plus their lingering mothers) followed Soobin through the park, most of their hands loaded with materials to help bring together the picnic. Once they made it to the secluded area, past the bushes and in front of the waterfall, everyone took a brief moment to take in the scenery.

“Wah, Soob-ah,” Ruha called out, spinning in a circle as she examined it all. “This is perfect, it’s all so pretty.”

While Sooyung and Hyunjin simultaneously gasped, “There is a fucking waterfall.”

Jiah took her time placing the blanket on the ground, and separating it so that all of the folding creases weren’t visible. She used a few stray rocks that were lying around to hold down the blanket, since the wind seemed to be strong at the moment.

Once Sooyung and Hyunjin realized Jiah was setting things up, they stopped staring at the waterfall and helped place the basket and food down in a neat way. Time ticked on as the three of them argued which corner of the blanket the basket should sit on, Sooyung adamant that the placement of the basket was detrimental to the layout of everything. Hyunjin argued that placing it in the middle was good enough, while Jiah immediately disapproved of his recommendation and set the basket on the very edge of the blanket, as to not cover anything.

“Just shove it in the right corner,” Sooyung awkwardly crawled onto the blanket and put the basket in the corner. “See, it looks fine.”

“It doesn’t,” Hyunjin snapped, grabbing the basket and placing it in the middle of the blanket. “Then this way we can put the food out around the basket. Like a radial type of set up.”

Both Sooyung and Hyunjin looked to Jiah for the final verdict, and she ultimately agreed with Hyunjin, thinking the center placement was the best option.

Meanwhile, Soobin had been swept up by the group of mother’s, speaking to Sooyung’s and Jiah’s mothers about how he was planning to confess. They coached him on what to say and what to avoid saying, coaching him through his rehearsed version of his feelings that he had constructed in his head.

“Don’t ramble,” Sooyung’s mother, Serim, called out. “Try to make it concise, straight to the point.”

Jiah’s mom, Kiha, sighed softly, crossing her arms across her chest. “I remember when I got my first boyfriend, it was so nerve wracking. So yes, Soobin-ah, keep it short and simple. Just speak from the heart.”

“But my heart has so much it wants to say.”

“Paraphrase kid,” Serim said, slapping him on the back.

“IM HERE! IM HERE, NO ONE CONFESSED YET RIGHT?!?!?!?!” Haeun shouted as she ran up to the group, the bouquet of flowers in her hand.

“No, not yet,” Jiah deadpanned, taking the flowers from her hands and handing them to Soobin.

“Good, good,” Haeun hunched over, placing her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. “Oh, and I think I saw Aera and Dongmin on my way here.”

And all hell broke loose at that.

Sooyung rushed to pull out her phone, a text from Aera asking her where they were meeting for the picnic showing up on her phone. Hyunjin jumped up from his laying position on the picnic blanket and he rushed over to Soobin, making sure his clothes looked nice. Jiah ran over to Sooyung, waiting for her next instructions on how to coerce Aera into the cut where the waterfall was without her becoming suspicious.

And Haeun, well she was still trying to catch her breath.

“Okay, Jiah, Haeun, come with me,” Sooyung rushed out. “Soobin, stay here. Hyunjin, you and the moms have like five minutes to hide before Aera comes over here.”

Soobin switched the flowers back and forth in his hands nervously, walking over to the picnic blanket to stand where Aera will be able to see him as soon as she cleared the bushes.

“Haeun, let’s go,” Sooyung yanked the out of breath girl behind her and the three girls left the waterfall clearing and began to head to the entrance of the park where Aera said she was.

“Now, here is how this is going down,” The three of them quickly rush down the path to meet Aera as Sooyung talked. “Haeun you'll stand somewhere down here and as I go get Aera I’ll send her farther down the path where Jiah will be. Then JiJi you will send Aera to Haeun, then Haeun will lead her to the clearing. Okay?”

“Okay.” Haeun and Jiah nodded simultaneously.

[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.

[maluminspace]

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Michael Clifford/Female Reader 

Prompt: Person A goes to in costume to a Halloween party, to find no one else is really dressed up except Person B

Word Count: 3k

Content: mostly just cute Halloween fluff, Michael in drag, there’s also a bit of side lashton, 

Trigger warnings: Alcohol, strong language, references to sexual activity including public sex (nothing too explicit)

A/N: Okay, so this is my second attempt at writing something for this collab. My first one turned out huge and not really very halloween-y so I re-assessed and this is what I came up with! I hope you guys like it <3

Please check out the masterlist and support/show some love to all these amazing writers.

*** 

When your best friend in the entire world, Luke, had first invited you to his new boyfriend’s Halloween party, you’d taken it as the perfect opportunity to blow off a little steam. Work had been busy lately and you hadn’t had much chance to relax. Furthermore, Luke had told you that Ashton (the new love of his life) had a couple of hot single friends, so you’d figured your costume should be on the sexy side.

You’d spent weeks deciding on the perfect outfit before finally settling on a black cat outfit that was just the right side of tasteful. The bodysuit was figure-hugging, showing off your curves perfectly. The elegant velvet ears and tail matched it well and you finished off the look with some cute whiskers painted on your cheeks and a red choker with a little gold bell on it.

Luke let out a low whistle when he met you outside the house he’d given you directions for. “I wish I could say the same for you!” You huffed, surveying your friend’s very lackluster costume, if you could even call it that. “Where’s the pirate costume I helped you pick out?”

A slightly guilty expression coloured Luke’s pretty face as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well, I mentioned it to Ashton and he kinda hinted that he didn’t like tacky costumes so I went for this instead.” He shrugged awkwardly.

“And what exactly is this supposed to be?” You asked, gesturing to the plain white shirt and black jacket. “You just look like you’re about to go to work at the office, what the fuck, Luke?”

“Wait…” He said, his face brightening a bit as he pulled on a wig that you hadn’t even noticed he was holding. “I’m Vincent Vega!” He announced.

You rolled your eyes, fully disappointed in your best friend’s decision to side with his new squeeze over you. “I preferred the pirate costume, you’d have looked super hot.”

“I’m sorry to break it to you, buddy…” Luke giggled, “but you’re not the one I want to impress tonight.”

You clutched your chest in fake pain and shock. “And here I thought it was me that you wanted to fuck you senseless whilst a huge queue forms outside for the bathroom we claimed.”

An embarrassed blush rose in Luke’s cheeks as the memory of the specific situation you had described filled his tiny, horny brain. “We were drunk, and if he’d whispered in your ear with that sexy, gravelly voice to tell you how beautiful you looked in the new shirt he’d bought for you, you’d have begged him to drag you to the nearest bathroom, too.” He huffed as he started off up the driveway, his ridiculous wig almost falling off with the force of his dramatic head toss.

Suppressing a giggle, you followed your friend to the front door. “You’re forgetting one important detail there, Lukey.” You reminded him with a smirk. “I’m not as big of a slut as you.”

“That costume begs to differ.” Luke replied, raising an eyebrow proudly. “Calum is probably gonna pop a boner after just a glimpse of your ass in that tight suit.”

“And Calum is one of the hot ones?” You asked, remembering Luke’s declaration of Ashton’s stupidly handsome best friends. 

“Yeah, he’s the one with the cute dog and swanky apartment near the beach.” Luke explained as he opened the front door. “Michael’s probably a bit more your type, through. You have about the same mental capacity as each other.” He snorted.

Choosing to ignore the weak jibe at your own intelligence and that of the as yet unknown Michael, you focused on Luke’s lack of manners instead. “Shouldn’t we knock?” You asked. “It’s rude to just walk in to someone’s house, even if they do ‘rearrange your insides like no one has ever previously managed’.” You added, taking a great deal of joy in quoting Luke back to himself.

“Keep your fucking voice down!” Luke hissed. “I told you that in confidence!” He shook his head as though to clear it (probably from another X-rated memory) before he answered your question.

“Ashton told me we could come right in. So stop worrying about stupid stuff and get in here!” He laughed.

For the second time in the few moments since you’d met him outside, you rolled your eyes at your best friend, but this time the exasperated gesture was accompanied by a small laugh.

Your merriment soon died away when Luke led you into the main sitting room, which was already packed with people…people who were not in Halloween costumes. People who were very much giving off a sophisticated air as they sipped their wine and stood around talking to each other comfortably over the music that was playing at a much too sensible volume for a party.

In your peripheral vision you noticed Luke tear off his wig and hide in the oversized vase he was standing next to before any of the other guests saw him wearing it. Without that ridiculous little prop, Luke would probably blend right in. You, on the other hand, were going to stick out like a (very scantily clad) sore thumb.

“I thought this was meant to be a Halloween party, Luke.” You hissed, offering awkward smiles to the few people nearest to you, who were regarding you with ill-concealed smirks.

Your best friend gave an awkward laugh before ushering you towards the kitchen.

A few spiteful glances and giggles followed you as Luke pulled you through the crowd of people. 

Luckily the kitchen was pretty much deserted, with just three people huddled over by the microwave. You only recognised one of them. Having met Ashton a couple of times previous to this evening, you had no problem identifying his muscular form and the sweater/jeans combo outfit he favoured at the moment, even though you could only see the back of him. 

The second man had a very handsome profile. He was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a white shirt, with very few of the buttons done up as far as you could tell from this angle. He looked kind of athletic, with strong, muscular arms and thighs. His curly black hair was styled neatly to perfectly frame his face.

Ashton and Muscles were mostly obscuring the third person from your view. But you could tell by the tone of their voice that they were not at all happy about something. “- cannot expect me to stay here like this!” 

Unsurprisingly, Luke gravitated to the little knot of people, dragging you along with him until you finally got a glimpse of the irritated man leaning against the counter. 

Suddenly, your own embarrassment at your chosen costume vanished. In comparison to this guy, you definitely weren’t going to be the center of attention.

The third man was dressed in a long blonde wig, albeit a very cheap-looking one, styled into high pigtails. His cute, unshaven face was painted in badly-applied makeup. The tight white dress that he’d squeezed into left you with no doubt of who he was meant to be dressed as, and the realisation pulled a snort of laughter from you.

Luke failed also to suppress a giggle as he let go of your hand and instinctively curled into Ashton’s side, as though the slightly older man was some sort of magnet. “Wow, you sure as hell didn’t get the memo about the ‘adults drinking wine’ vibe either, huh?” 

The angry ‘Baby Spice’ glared at Luke with what you just knew were usually very pretty green eyes. “Don’t you start, lanky!” He huffed. “I’m already this close to ending your boyfriend.”

“Hey!” Ashton interjected, his voice calm and smooth in comparison to his friends’. “First of all, don’t talk to Luke that way or I’ll be the one ending you. Secondly, it wasn’t me that tricked you into dressing as a Spice Girl.” His last two words were accompanied with a snigger and it only made his angry friend’s face get redder.

“I swear I’ll rip your-” Baby Spice began before Muscles cut him off.

“Now, now, Michael.” Muscles smirked, “don’t you think that’s a bit too much.”

You were apparently the only one to pick up on the reference as your burst of laughter sounded much too loud in the otherwise quiet room.

For the first time Muscles’ and Baby Spices’ eyes snapped up to meet yours. Their reactions upon noticing you properly for the first time were at opposite ends of the scale. 

Muscles became instantly flirtatious, his brown eyes lighting up with a charming smile as he greeted you with a smooth. “Oh! Hi there, beautiful…”

Baby Spice on the other hand, looked as though all of his nightmares had come true. The fear and embarrassment on his face were unmistakable as you focused on him over his friend. “It looks like you’re in the market for a new best friend too, Baby Spice.” You smiled gently, hoping to ease his discomfort a little. “I’m looking for a replacement, too.”

There was something about the genuine look of surprise in his green eyes that really endeared this stranger to you. Now that you were standing closer to him, it was easier to see the handsome features that the untidy lipstick and foundation were covering. 

“Yeah…” Baby Spice laughed awkwardly, all of his anger vanishing as he tried to adopt a more casual stance. “My ex-best friend thought this would be funny.” He said, gesturing to his outfit, that up-close was much worse than you’d originally thought. His hairy chest, arms and legs protruding from the cheap costume dress made for a comical sight, but you fought back your amusement, intent on befriending this man so that both your night and his might take a turn for the better. “I’m guessing Luke pulled a similar prank on you, too?”

“Actually, he didn’t.” You explained, shaking your head. “Believe it or not, this is what passes for a Halloween costume in Luke’s tiny, dumb brain.”

Luke’s offended noise was lost beneath his replacement’s beautiful laugh as you stepped forward and offered Baby Spice your hand to shake as you told him your name.

He took it, still smiling bright enough to make his emerald eyes sparkle. “I’m Michael.” He confirmed. “And I’d be more than happy to be your new best friend.”

***

In the following couple of hours you made two amazing discoveries;

Alcohol consumption was the best cure for embarrassment.

Michael was fairly close to being your actual ideal man.

Despite the fact that he was obviously gullible, most of Michael’s other qualities were very much to your liking. In the short time that you’d known him, Michael had proven himself to be kind, funny and incredibly easy to talk to. What’s more, as the night went on and more and more of his makeup wore off, you’d found out he was even more handsome than you’d originally thought he was.

“So did you mean what you said to Calum just now?” Michael asked, suddenly looking a little nervous as he dropped his gaze to the bottle of beer in his hand. “About not being interested in him, I mean.”

A couple of times, Calum had wandered over to the corner of the kitchen that you and Michael had claimed as your own, trying to flirt with you. On each occasion, you’d made it perfectly clear that you’d formed an alliance with Michael and that sneaky ex-best friends were not permitted to flirt with you under any circumstances.

If you were reading the signals right, Michael was a little jealous of his friend. That was understandable; Calum was conventionally good looking and was as charming as they come. On a normal night, you’d have been more than a little tempted to see if his smooth moves translated into decent bedroom skills, but tonight your attention was completely focused on Michael.

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “He seems nice and all, besides screwing you over on the costume thing.” You giggled. “But he’s not really my type.”

Michael looked mildly confused. “I’ve never heard a girl say that before.” He admitted. “I thought he was just everyone’s type.”

“I can recognise that he’s hot, but I like my men a little softer and my number one turn on is someone who can make me laugh.” You replied honestly. 

A light blush rose in Michael’s cheeks as he apparently realised you’d been describing him. Judging by the shyness emanating from him, people admitting they were attracted to him didn’t happen all that often. You couldn’t understand why; he was absolutely beautiful.

“C’mon, Baby Spice.” You smirked, “Lets get another drink and then you can show me some of your best dance moves.” 

“Oh, I can’t really dance?” Michael confessed, his blush deepening a bit as he headed over to the counter where numerous bottles of alcohol were laid out.

“I find that very hard to believe!” You gasped in fake shock. “I mean it’s easy, isn’t it? You just slam it to the left, shake it to the right.... Y’know, go round…” You smirked.

Michael rolled his eyes. “You’re gonna have to stop right now with those Spice Girls lyrics, kitten.” 

The pet name made your insides dance excitedly. It could have easily sounded like a cheap, tacky term of endearment from anyone else but Michael’s cute mannerisms just made it sound adorable. “Yeah, okay.” You teased, nudging his arm playfully. “I don’t want you to have to say goodbye, my friend.” 

Michael let out a reluctant laugh as he surveyed the drink options. “I can tell you were a huge fan, I’m flattered.” He said, playing along easily.

“What’s with the past tense, Bunton?” You continued. “The Spice Girls are timeless.”

Michael nodded as he continued to stare at the bottles of alcohol as though he couldn’t decide which to go for.. “I agree, I always had a bit of crush on Posh…”

“That’s basic!” You reprimanded him. 

“Rude!”  Michael scoffed. “Who’s your favourite?” He asked, raising a hopeful eyebrow.

“I’ll tell you if you hurry up and decide what you want; I’ll be sober by the time you pour a drink at this rate!” You laughed.

Michael shook his head, smirking a little. “Don’t rush me kitten, I need to weigh up all of my options.”

“Oh, come on Michael!” You scolded when he still hadn’t made a decision a moment later. “Just tell me what you want, what you really, really want so we can continue getting trashed.”

“That was your worst one yet.” Michael sighed dramatically. “I may have to disown you after that one, kitten.”

Excitement bubbled in your chest at the use of the pet name again, knowing it wasn’t just a one time slip of the tongue meant that it might stick and you couldn't put into words how much you’d like that. “Fine, just pour us both a vodka and lemonade so that you can show me those spicy dance moves.”

Michael couldn’t hold in the fond chuckle that rippled out of him as he obeyed your request. “So are you gonna answer my question about who your favourite Spice Girl is? Or do I have to guess?”

“Baby’s always been the one I crushed on the hardest.” You replied easily, deciding to forgo the guessing game.

“Yeah?” He prompted. “What attracted you to me?” He asked before panic flooded his features. “I mean her! Sorry...I wasn’t being-”

You cut Michael off with a giggle as you allowed your already tipsy brain to capitalize on the alcohol-fueled confidence you always seemed to develop after a few drinks. “I think it’s your terrible makeup skills, quick wit and those pretty green eyes that attracted me to you the most, baby.” 

You never really noticed how close you’d gotten to him until you felt the little puff of breath from his quiet “Oh…” ghosting over your own lips.

If there was ever an opportune moment to kiss him, that was it. Without any good reason to stop yourself, you tentatively wrapped your arms around his neck. “I can’t believe I’m about to kiss a Spice Girl.” You chuckled, loving the way his hands felt as they rested on your waist. 

“I hope I don’t disappoint you, kitten.” He replied, tilting his head to one side slightly so that you wouldn’t bump noses when the gap between your lips was finally closed.

It was you that took the final step, pressing a soft kiss to Michael’s lips. They felt every bit as soft as they looked and used them perfectly, kissing you back with just the right amount of enthusiasm. 

Usually, it’d take a lot more than a shy first kiss for a guy to fully win you over, but somehow you found yourself melting into Michael’s hold, prolonging the simple kiss for as long as possible. Michael didn’t seem to mind that at all, holding you closely as he parted his lips allowing you to deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue teasingly against his.

When the two of you naturally drew apart a few moments later, your head was spinning from more than just the alcohol. Michael was well and truly intoxicating in a very different way. “I’m gonna need a lot more of that to keep you on the top spot of my favourite list, Baby.” You said, trying not to let your voice sound too breathy.

“That’s definitely a promise I can keep, kitten.” Michael smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Glad to hear it!” You proclaimed. “Now, let’s drink up so that we can move on to somewhere that our awesome costumes will be more appreciated!”

Michael raised a questioning eyebrow. “Leave Ashton’s party?” he asked. “Do you have somewhere in mind?”

Nodding, you picked up your drink and took a long swig, “My favourite bar always has an awesome Halloween event.” You confirmed. “I was gonna go there but Luke wanted me to meet his boyfriend’s friends so I came here instead.” 

“Well, I’m kinda glad you did, to be honest.” Michael said, his cheeks reddening slightly. 

You pecked another kiss to his lips before taking another drink. “I am too, but it’s time for us to be the life of a new party.” 

Michael nodded in agreement as he finished his drink in one go. That shouldn’t have been as hot as it was to you, yet there you were practically drooling over a man in the worst drag outfit and makeup you’d ever seen, wiping vodka and lipstick off his incredibly plump lips with the back of his hand. He reached out with the hand that didn’t have bubblegum pink smeared across the back of it and took hold of your hand with the full confidence of the drink he’d just downed.

 “So where are we going?” He asked. “I trust you, so don’t let me down and take me somewhere lame, kitten.” 

“Oh, don’t worry. This place is amazing.” You promised, smirking as your final Spice Girls joke of the night slipped past your lips. “It’ll really spice up your life, baby.”

***

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[redhoodedwolf]

A Week-ish of Sterek Fics

Hello all! So I recently accidentally fell back into my AO3 bookmarks and have fallen down a rabbit (fox? eh?) hole that leaves me entirely unproductive and sleep deprived but full of feels, so I thought I’d share all of the fics that I’ve rerereread thus far in the last week (it’s over 75 guys) (since friday 😬). Each has the fic name and description, length, and year pub/finished because it makes me feel old. Also all of these are complete because I am weak and cannot handle WIPs. 

Note: I’m not adding any tags to the descriptions, so make sure to read the tags and ratings on each fic first before reading!!!

Teaching Derek How to Text (and Other Shenanigans) by neilwrites | 9K  | 2018

yo derek Who’s dying

---

I see your 'Derek doesn't have a phone' line and raise you 'Derek has a phone, he and Stiles text all the fucking time.'

The Hoodie by ladiekatie | 1.7K | 2017

“You shouldn’t be able to see me. What are you?” The guy in the hoodie says, the ball of energy grows hotter under Derek’s chin.

or the one where Derek is just trying to talk to the guy at the back of the subway.

Nothing You Could Say by SylvieW | 13K | 2016

Stiles’ second year of college is not working out as he planned. He rarely sees Scott, his job is exhausting, and to get home after his shift, he has to walk at three in the morning. Nearly getting mugged is the icing on the cake, but luckily a gruff stranger is there to rescue him. But now Stiles can’t seem to shake the feeling that he’s not alone in the dark.

Old Traditions, Werewolf Edition by Footloose | 3.6K | 2014

Stiles does not work his Omega ass off to attract frat boy Alphas. Absolutely not. He's at college to get his degree. If he's crushing on an Alpha who never crosses the lines of propriety, well, no one needs to know, right?

Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MereLoup | 14K | 2016

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.”

“Oh thank god!”

“Stiles?”

“I, uh, I need some advice.”

“Advice?”

“Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?”

Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.”

“Stiles...what are you doing right now?”

***

Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work.

Partly because their visit was a complete surprise.

But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend.

Or even know who Derek was.

But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

third time's the charm by stilinski | 4.9K | 2016

 Sure, Stiles has a mark on his chest that belies the depth of his feelings, but it's not something anyone can see unless he decides to show it, or unless werewolves suddenly have x-ray vision.

 Which—worrying. And probably-definitely-likely a possibility – if it was to manifest anywhere, Beacon Hills would be top of the list.

 Stiles almost turns around there and then to ask Scott how his visual acuity is but is stopped by the teenager at the register finally looking up long enough to spot Derek. Stiles watches her mouth fall open and her expression—studiously blank but with a faint flush rising in her cheeks—is one Stiles knows far too well, particularly when faced with Derek in all his snug-fitting-jeans, v-neck-wearing, canvas-jacketed glory.

 Stiles is pretty sure he invented that expression.

Ukochany by VincentMeoblinn| 34K | 2016

Derek comes home to find a mail order husband and two amused betas waiting for him. When he realizes their prank was far from harmless he ends up saddled with a husband who barely speaks English but insists Derek is the love of his life. He's also determined to win him over.

only if for a night by stilinskisparkles | 3.2K | 2016

“I’m Stiles,” he says breathlessly.

“Derek.”

“Derek, hi, do you—”

Derek doesn’t let him finish, kisses the words right out of his mouth.

Hypothetically by alisvolatpropiis | 6.6K | 2015

Stiles holds his hand up to shield his eyes from the sinking sun, its orange-yellow light reflected infinitely across the vast, calm ocean. As utterly stunning as the sunset over the Pacific is, especially while floating leisurely on a surfboard a few hundred feet from shore, it’s a mere backdrop that pales in comparison to who he’s looking at.

Derek Hale, whose eyes are their own oceans that Stiles feels like he’s been floating on since the first time they met. The older man’s eyes are as ever-changing and colorful as the sea they’ve spent the day on, a palette of greens and blues filigreed with gold around the pupils. And if that weren’t enough, the rest of Derek is also transcendentally exquisite: high, arching cheekbones and a chiseled jaw, although that particular perfection is a bit obscured these days by his ever-thickening beard, night-black like his hair, nearly shoulder-length but almost always knotted in a messy bun at the crown of his head.

sincerely, derek by stilinskisparkles | 8.1K | 2016

September, 2009

Hi Stiles, it’s Derek. Derek Hale, from space camp. I’m writing this in English because my teacher Ms Grady said I had to write about my summer, but I spent my summer with you, so I decided to write to you, instead.

Please write back. Love from Derek.

Pancakes and Murder by Amethyst Shard (AmethystShard) | 14K | 2012

Stiles' life has been a roller-coaster filled with awesome highs and terrifying drops ever since his best friend Scott got bit by a werewolf. The ride hits a bump when a dead body turns up at the Hale house (again) and Derek's only alibi is Stiles. Which would be fine, except that Stiles' dad is the sheriff and has no idea his son has been hanging out with the former fugitive. Awkward.

The Witching Hour by MellytheHun | 8.2K | 2016

The radio host AU no one ever asked for but I have written anyway because sometimes when DJ’s play several sad songs in a row, I worry about their mental health and then this AU was born

Derek Hale, The Hero Beacon Hills Needs (Series) by MellytheHun | 11K | 4 Works | 2016

This series started with this Tumblr prompt, "it’s the middle of the night and i’m walking home alone in the dark and there’s this guy following me and he’s starting to gain on me and i found this phone booth with a lock on the door and i tried to call my best friend but my hands were shaking so badly i accidentally dialed the wrong number and i don’t even know you but help me” au

Stiles is walking home when he's stalked by a dangerous stranger and an even more dangerous stranger comes to his rescue.

Fly a Little Faster by mirrorkill | 32K | 2013

Everyone knows when you go back in time, you shouldn't step on an ant, just in case you accidentally kill your own grandparent or something. But what happens when you go back in time and, uh, accidentally interrupt the one event that apparently made the Grumpiest Alpha in Town into a ball of mindless manpain?

Well, if Marty McFly can do it, so can Stiles Stilinski. All he has to do is get Derek and Paige to fall in love before he gets pulled back to his own time. And before he makes anything worse. That's easy as pie, right? Right?

You are the Moon by skoosiepants | 10K | 2012

Stuff Stiles doesn’t like to deal with first thing: hot, moist dog breath in his face, a cuddly werewolf creepifying his perfectly normal morning wood with shades of bestiality, and his dad holding his service revolver up against the skull of his bedmate, never mind the fact that his bedmate could possibly be a vicious unhinged rogue omega.

Baby, you should stick around by ElisAttack | 9.5K | 2016

Derek's driving along a stretch of highway when an unusual sight makes him slow down, the engine of his old pickup rattling in protest.

There's a kid standing by the side of the road.

It's the middle of nowhere, the goddamn apocalypse, and this kid is standing by the side of the road with his thumb pointed skyward. Like he's playing at being a hitchhiker.

Or the one where Stiles thinks he's all alone in a post-apocalyptic world, until he meets Derek.

Don’t Be Anything But Okay by skoosiepants | 4.8K | 2016

“Oh my god.”

Ben pops open the car door and says, “Please don’t embarrass me, Dad.”

Stiles flaps a hand, still staring at the magnificent sight before him. There are glistening arm muscles and a sweaty tank top and then the vision bends over and holy god. He has to look away; it’s too much to take in all at once, he might swoon.

OR-

Stiles has a teenager and Derek has a plant nursery.

covalent bonds (Series) by HalfFizzbin | 9.2K | 3 Works | 2015

Derek's a hot nerd. Stiles is a nerdy jock. A LOVE STORY FOR THE AGES.

Disappear Here by AgnesBlue | 28K | 2016

Stiles was quiet. “What?” Derek said again. “My first heat is coming up soon,” Stiles said at last. Derek closed his eyes, disinterested. He knew where Stiles was going with this. “I was thinking…hoping, really,” Stiles said. “Maybe you could stay with me during that time.”

AU in which wounded in a fire that killed off his entire family, Derek wants nothing more than to be left alone as he finishes off his senior year in high school. That all changes when omega Stiles Stilinski asks him to help him through his first heat.

Money Isn't Everything by TroubleIWant | 6.3K | 2015

Stiles slurps at the dregs of his iced hazelnut latté, pretending he doesn’t need a refill just yet. Supporting your local business is great and all, but Isaac charging $5 for a coffee with syrup is highway robbery. He’s already cut his expenses down to the bare minimum, and splurging for foofy drinks is not in the budget. Except that he can’t really help himself: black coffee is plain gross. Maybe I should plan on marrying rich, he thinks darkly.

Or,

Stiles has a huge crush on the super-hot guy he always sees at Isaac's coffee shop, but when he finds out that they guy's an unemployed orphan he has to decide if the difference in their financial situations is a deal-breaker, or just a bump on the path to true love.

So Shed Your Skin and Lets Get Started by halfhardtorock | 21K | 2014

He's sixteen and in the woods on the wrong side of the town-line and he's so fucking fucked.

He knows he's not supposed to run, they teach that to you in preschool (don't run from a Were, back away slowly and walk with care), but they never told you how it would feel, standing alone in the dark with your heart beating in your throat as those glowing eyes tracked you from the shadows.

you and me (and my best friend) by trilliastra | 1.5K | 2016

“Come on, I shouldn’t be the only one having orgasms. Let me help you out.”

“Uh –” someone clears their throat and Derek jumps, startled, hits his elbow on the wall and curses, “am I interrupting something?” Stiles asks, cheeks red.

Derek looks up, sighing. Of all the people working in this damn school, Stiles had to be the one to catch him and Erica talking about sex. It’s just Derek’s luck. He spills juice on his pants? Stiles walks into the classroom; Laura starts yelling at him about something that happened when they were kids? Stiles is right behind them, waiting for his coffee; Boyd accidentally throws a ball at his face? Stiles is at the E.R. when Derek gets there with a swollen face and a broken nose.

The universe hates him.

Easy Alpha by interropunct | 4.6K | 2012

Easy A/Teen Wolf AU. Wherein, Derek Hale is the high school hussy, Jackson and Scott really need to learn to use their inside voices. And, contrary to popular belief, everyone is still a virgin.

Body Language by LadyMerlin | 2.3K | 2016

In an alternate universe, soulmates exist, and they can communicate with each other by writing on their own skin.

The catch? No one knows their soulmates' name. It could literally be anyone under the sun, and Stiles just doesn't have that kind of patience.

chantes une nouvelle chanson pour moi by pr1nc3ssp34ch (dallisons) | 13K | 2013

Stiles Stilinski has been at Hogwarts since his first year, okay. That's six years of experience. He knows how Hogwarts works, how it operates. He's not quite an expert or anything, but he's pretty damn sure he knows this school.

So why the hell have they waited like a million years to start taking transfer students?

And why is he the only one who can't get a French date?

C’était Salement Romantique by Swing Set in December (swing_set13) | 2.2K | 2015

The Triwizard tournament is really about fostering wizarding relations. Ask anyone. Just not Stiles, he’s busy French kissing Derek.

Hogwarts really should teach some linguistic classes.

The Long Way Home by MyChemicalRachel | 19K | 2016

Stiles didn’t plan to sleep with his best friend’s dad. It just kind of happened. And then it happened again. And again. And again…

All that once was, remains. by countrygirlsfun | 8.8K | 2016

Life is only a long list of constants.

Being a part of a royal family, being a prince, has been a constant in Derek Hale’s life since he was born and swaddled in silk cloths.

Wherein Derek finds himself in love with a stable boy who is more than he seems.

Driver's Education by arrowofcarnations | 9.2K | 2014

This is the moment he realizes he can never have Derek Hale – that he was stupid to ever think he could. Maybe their moms made them hang out when they were little and maybe they’ve managed to get along these past few weeks, but they’re too different. Derek’s cool, he plays a million sports, he drives a Camaro, he’s friends with Jackson. Stiles doesn’t fit into the equation and he never will.

Letters by ericaismeg | 8.9K | 2014

“Stiles, this is getting ridiculous. Can you please do something about it?” Lydia demands. “Do anything. I don’t care. Go up and kiss him, ask him to prom this year, write him secret admirer love letters, whatever. Just do something.”

***

OR: The one where Lydia sets up an email account for Stiles to "confess his love" for Derek. And as fate would have it, they also end up becoming friends in person at the same time.

We're One of a Kind (Like Dip Da Dip Da Dip Do Whap De Dobby Do) by orphan_account | 3.5K | 2012

Derek is your classic greaser—with a leather jacket, a hot rod, a hot bike, and a duck butt. Genim “Stiles” Stilinski a total fream—he’s too cool to be a poindexter but he’s so far from a cat that Derek almost feels bad for him. All that’s missing in this love story is some oddly perfectly timed musical numbers.

do it for our country  by HalfFizzbin | 936 | 2012

In which Derek tries to play it cool but Stiles is totally hep to his jive.

Fast Times At Clairemont High by MonsieurBlueSky (MyChemicalRachel) | 6.9K | 2016

Stiles is stoked when he's chosen for an undercover operation to take down a drug ring. He's less stoked when he discovers that he'll be posing as a seventeen year old student at the High School where Derek teaches.

It's Too Early For This by thepsychicclam | 4.9K | 2016

Derek loves his job at the coffee shop, especially because Stiles comes in for coffee before early Saturday morning lacrosse practices. The problem is that Derek is too shy to do anything about his crush, and the situation is not helped by the rivalry between the basketball and lacrosse teams.

A Tentative Truce by Inell | 8.5K | 2016

Stiles and Derek have a long standing rivalry that has extended beyond the Beacon Hills High School theater department to every other area of their high school lives. With the announcement of the winter production, their competitiveness has to be set to the side so the musical can be successful. With a tentative truce in place, Stiles unable to ignore his growing infatuation for his co-star.

we keep living anyway by bistiles (alis) | 10K | 2015

“Oh, damn, my manners. What an example I’m setting, am I right? I’m Stiles Stilinski, but call me Stiles, please,” Stilinski extended his hand for Derek to shake, and Derek took it, feeling the solid grip and the long fingers around his own hand. For some reason, he blushed on the spot.

“Derek. Derek Hale. Call me just Derek,” He answered, still holding Stiles’ hand in his.

By the look on Stiles’ face, he felt much the same as what Derek was feeling, whatever that unnamed reaction was.

“And this little barnacle attached to me,” Stiles continued, letting go of Derek and flushing pink, “is Leigh.”

--

Stiles is struggling to raise his only child all alone, while dealing with financial problems, a new job, and Adrian Harris, the worst boss in the world.

But then he meets Derek Hale, a dreamy co-workers, and what is a terrible situation becomes considerably less grim, when he has Derek by his side.

Don't Judge a Derek By His Cover by captaintinymite (augopher) | 4.5K | 2015

Stiles doesn't care about the rumors surrounding Beacon Hills High School's resident bad boy, Derek Hale. In fact, he thinks the rumors are total crap. Of course, being secretly in love with someone has a way of clouding one's judgment.

However, he knew for a fact that Derek liked books. So when the two paired up for a final English project, he was excited (but also a little terrified).

But you know what they say...never judge a book by its cover. The same goes for people.

sometimes fate is like a small snowstorm by thepsychicclam | 8.1K | 2014

In a coffee shop two days before Christmas, Derek meets Stiles. Despite neither of them being interested in relationships, they spend an unforgettable evening together, but then part ways. During the following years, Stiles competes in the Olympics, Derek tours the world - and neither of them forget. Then twelve years later, two days before Christmas, Derek finds Stiles in that same coffee shop.

aka a kinda sorta serendipity au

should the pillars of memory topple out of my reach by bleep0bleep | 4.3K | 2015

If Stiles didn’t know any better he’d say that look in Derek's eyes is adoring, but he does know better, and also amnesiac Derek thinks they’re married. Which is the only fact he hasn’t questioned so far, which is the weirdest thing.

Just High School by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 4.5K | 2015

Derek and Stiles have been dating for some time.

The only thing is, nobody else really knows.

Tis The Season Baristas Fear The Most by stilinskisparkles | 5.4K | 2012

Scott is hands down the worst barista Derek has ever hired. But it's Christmas and apparently that means something to some people.

Mind Reading Can Be Such a Pain in the A** (Series) by Fanhag102 | 21K | 2 Works | 2015

Derek Hale can read minds. If he could have chosen a mutant power for himself instead of being given one by random, genetic happenstance it's safe to say mind-reading would not have been his 1st, 2nd, or even 96th choice.

Maybe if he'd gotten the power of invisibility he wouldn't be sitting in a senior Economics class next to a hyperactive kid with a buzz cut who won’t stop thinking about dicks.

A Criminal and His Lucky Charm by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 5.9K | 2015

Please forgive yourself.

For what?

For allowing yourself to let someone in. For letting me love you. I didn’t deserve it, but that wasn’t your fault. Derek, please, just do it. Please— please don’t drag this out.

Derek Hale valued Stiles above everyone—everything. And Stiles betrayed that. In the end, he figured if he had to die, dying in Derek’s arms wasn’t so bad. He could at least have that.

the things you said when we were the happiest we’ve ever been by foxerica (ericaismeg) | 4.8K | 2015

Derek and Stiles meet again at their high school reunion.

From Dirty Paws by Surreal | 9.9K | 2014

Stiles finds a wolf in the woods. Well, it's more like the wolf finds him. Either way, he's happy to have a new friend in his otherwise boring social circle.

flawless by bibliosexual | 4.9K | 2015

“I know you and I are, like, werewolf-married, but dude, if I ever met Lydia Martin in person . . . All bets are off, is all I'm saying."

It's not like Stiles really means it (does he?), but it still makes Derek’s hands clench into claws on the steering wheel.

"Yeah, if," he says, and keeps his eyes on the road.

Those Hidden Places by Mimiminaj | 18K | 2015

He doesn’t belong here.

It’s the first thought that crosses Derek’s mind as he watches the new inmates spill into the cafeteria. The kid stays close to the wall, eyes scanning all the exits and skimming over the tables. If he’s trying to get a barring for his surroundings he’s doing a shit job of it, something made completely evident as Lewis shoulders him from behind and the kid almost jumps to flatten himself against the wall.

Or

Stiles is the new inmate at Derek's prison. He really didn't expect to fall in love with the mouthy little brat.

Baseball Pants by thatfamoushappyending (betsytheoven) | 2.8K | 2015

Scott shows Stiles a picture of the new pitcher for the Dodgers, and Stiles is suddenly an avid Dodgers fan.

While You Were(n't Quite) Sleeping by mikkimouse | 13K | 2015

Scott’s mom, Melissa, had given Stiles the basics on Derek’s condition when he’d first come over here a month ago. Derek had been here six years, the only survivor of a horrific house fire that had killed the rest of his family. It had left him burned, half his face puckered with scars, and he’d been in a catatonic state the entire time. Stiles couldn’t even begin to imagine how awful that would be, being trapped in your own body for years on end, all alone.

Stiles had an inkling of how much being alone sucked, anyway.

(An AU in which Derek is the one who was trapped in the fire, and then in the hospital, based on a set of pictures from littlecofiegirl.)

dhale25 by ericaismeg | 8.1K | 2014

Derek Hale is an actor in Los Angeles, Stiles is a fanboy in Toronto. When Derek posts his Snap Chat username on Twitter, inviting people to add him, Stiles gets brave and adds him.

They develop a snapping relationship, and it gets intense.

I Settle for Long Distance Calls by iamursforevrmre | 4.3K | 2014

Derek is the guy who Stiles met on some random band page on MySpace because Derek made a ridiculously hilarious comment and with a spurt of confidence, Stiles had messaged him to tell him just how hilarious it was and they got to talking. Derek is the guy that made a FaceBook account just to talk to Stiles on the messenger so they could talk more when MySpace was slowly dying out. Derek is the guy that changed his text message plan to unlimited when he finally sent Stiles his cell phone number. Derek is the guy that has been on the phone with Stiles at any and all hours through the day.

And Derek is the guy that Stiles is in love with.

You look like my next mistake by Vendelin | 15K | 2015

“So, are you dating someone new? Someone who doesn’t mind that you’re frigid?” Kate cocks her head to the side, smiling as though she just asked him about where he bought his shoes.

His entire body sighs in defeat as his shoulders grow square. Just as he opens his mouth, someone comes up to stand beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. When he glances to his side, expecting to see Isaac, his brain seems to malfunction. Because it isn’t Isaac. It’s Stiles Stilinski, the lacrosse talent of the year, a senior who Derek has seen multiple times from far away, but never ever talked to.

In which Derek is a nerd jock, and Stiles is a frat guy, and Derek falls for him even though he knows he shouldn't.

Coaches Cupcake Coffee House by ChildOfTheRevolution | 4.8K | 2013

Danny looked at him as if he were crazy, ‘It means he wants to ride the dick Stiles.’ He said slowly, as if talking to the mentally insane.

‘Ride the dick, my dick?’ Stiles asked weakly.

‘Figuratively speaking of course, Derek looks more like a topper to me. And you, my friend, are a twink of the most twinkiest standards, but I’m not one to judge.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Stiles admitted, finding himself in a weird crouch-like stance that he apparently now adopts when he’s overwhelmed about finding out Derek Hotcakes wants to bone him three ways to Sunday.

Gladiator AU ( Series) by HaleHole (SweetFanfics) | 9.9K | 2 Works | 2013

He looks up at the door and waits. He hopes that whoever it is, they will be go easy on him. Werewolf he might be, with superhuman healing, but that does not mean that he will not be sore the next day. And he is scheduled for a fight.

Let it be someone easy to please, Derek hopes. Someone who will be quick to take their pleasure and even quicker to leave. He keeps hoping this as the door is pushed open. A voice murmurs a quick set of instructions to whoever has hired him for this session. It is cut off half way through by a familiar, impatient voice that makes Derek strain against his bonds. -- Rome based, Gladiator AU

Stilinski's Home for Wayward Wolves by owlpostagain | 35K | 2013

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.”

“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly. 

Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding: 

DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

Theory of Overprotective Canines by rosepetals42 | 11K | 2015

Stiles is totally looking forward to living alone in his super cool apartment off-campus. He is. He is also very excited to bike to school every day, ready to set up an awesome game room, and definitely over his crush on Derek Hale. Completely over it.

Or at least he is until Derek decides he's moving in with him. And then turns out to be the perfect roommate. And then starts attending all his classes. As a wolf.

This is not going according to plan.

Hot for Teacher('s Aide) by linksofmemories_archive | 8K | 2013

“He invited you to his apartment.”

“To do a lesson plan.”

“Yeah and to probably lesson your plan while you’re there,” Scott said, waggling his eyebrows.

“That made no sense, but you still managed to make it sound dirty,” Stiles said. “I’m impressed.”

The healing touch by devilscut | 96K | 2015

Stiles loses his temper with the rest of the pack when they all make excuses not to volunteer to help their Alpha. Deaton has instructed that for the next 24 hours Derek can't use his hands after he seriously injures them in a magical entrapment. Seeing the emotional hurt that Derek's selfish pack has inflicted on him when they argue and try to get out of it, Stiles volunteers to stay and then proceeds to give the rest of them a verbal ass-kicking. He then takes care of his friend, the Alpha, Derek Hale, while trying to work out what his feelings are towards the werewolf.

Quit Dragon Me Around (Seies) by WonderWolf | 17K | 3 Works | 2015

Stiles makes the mistake of taking Derek’s sword and now the grumpy werewolf seems determined to stop him from stealing and landing himself in jail.

Stiles is not pleased. He’s also starving.

(Or the one in which Derek has good intentions, but little understanding of how Dragon biology works. He just wants the cute mole-speckled kid to be safe). -----

“Five meals, Scott. Derek Hale has stopped me from eating five meals. I can’t believe he’s really trying to kill me over stealing his sword. That’s so petty of him. It isn’t like I meant to steal it,” Stiles complains.

“You kind of did mean to, dude,” Scott adds unhelpfully.

“But you don’t understand, Scott. It-”

“Just smelled so good? I know, you’ve said that like fifty times over the past two weeks,” Scott says.

“This is the equivalent of him stealing my lunch money, right? Thanks to him, I didn’t have a meal this week. Or last week! He’s a bully, is what he is. A nice smelling, douchebag of a bully.”

You'll See Me Again by matildajones | 10K | 2015

Stiles is standing there in his uniform, hair long and hands behind his back. There’s a blush on his cheeks and he can barely look Derek in the eye.

“Hey,” he whispers. He’s wearing the medal Derek had presented to him.

Derek stares. He doesn’t think he’s breathing anymore.

--

Stiles is the soldier who saved Derek and brought him back home. He doesn't seem to care that Derek's a prince or that he's a little bit broken. Derek falls, quick and sure, but it's not easy knowing that Stiles will soon have to return to the war.

Thousand by ericaismeg | 4.2K | 2014

“Seriously, Erica, I could tell him a thousand times in a thousand ways and he's never going to understand what I mean.”

“I thought I told you to spell it out to him,” Erica says. “Derek's has trust issues. I told you this would be difficult.”

Stop Crossing Oceans by greenleaf | 11K | 2015

“There are no absolutes, Scott! No hard rights or hard wrongs! The world doesn’t fucking work that way and we can’t afford to think like that, because people are going to die! We signed up for that the moment we got involved with all this!”

“We? We?” Scott hisses. “Don’t you think you? Don’t forget that you’re the one who dragged us into that forest the night it all started, Stiles. So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours.”

Something inside Stiles cracks, so strong and so deep that he practically hears it.

The Wolf that whispered into Stiles' Heart by ElStark | 9.9K | 2015

Basically the Union of the prompts:

Mute!Stiles + Wolf!Derek + Soulmates/Mates AU

~

“Don’t you have a pack?” Stiles asks him –by then he had discovered that the wolf was in fact a male wolf –“I mean, wolves move in packs, right? Lone wolves don’t make it on their own. I read it yesterday.” He says while they’re both sprawled on the fallen leaves in Stiles’ secret-thinking spot in the woods. Derek licks his face, and Stiles laughs. “Is that your way to tell me that I’m your pack?” Derek licks him again on the nose, making the boy’s face scrunch up, “Ugh. Gross, dude!” he wipes his drool covered face with his sleeve and then gives the wolf a pointed look, “I’m not a wolf, you should have noticed, you know, I don’t exactly have fur and I don’t growl and I don’t have glowing eyes…” He says leaning in to look them closer, “Are you even supposed to have those kind of eyes? I couldn’t find anything about wolves and glowing eyes on the internet..” The wolf snorts.

Aftermath by GhostwithShotgun | 11K | 2015

Stiles suffers from PTSD and insomnia after the events with the nogitsune. He has nightmares, gets at most one hour of sleep every night and has daily panic attacks. He tries his best to hide it because they all have their own troubles and he doesn't want to burden his friends further.

Meanwhile, Derek has made a habit out of checking all pack members every night to make sure they're alright.

Cross a Canyon (with a broken limb) by theroguesgambit | 18K | 2015

“You never graduated,” Stiles says, just to say it. To test it out in the open air. That's... huh.

--

Stiles spends his senior year battling troll-gremlins, taking on an unexpected tutoring job, and definitely not falling for a certain sourwolf (even though everyone else seems to think he is).

It's a Schlong Story by floatingstark | 33K | 2015

"Do you like him?"

"Of course I do, he’s great!"

"Then what is the fucking problem?"

"My dick!"

-or-

Ex-Porn Star Derek Hale has a lot of issues but Ice Cream Parlor Owner Stiles Stilinski is not one of them.

Bad Dog Bakery and Café by Boom | 27K | 2015

Stiles saves an Omega from wolfsbane poisoning. Said Omega now won't leave Stiles alone. Stiles doesn't really have a problem with this.

Beat The Blues by lilpeas | 2.9K | 2015

Derek and Stiles have been childhood friends since the sandpit. When Talia realises Stiles is in love with Derek, she knows Derek has to stop seeing him: Derek’s a werewolf and Stiles is human. It can’t be.

But things never go according to plan.

Red Light's Already Off by orphan_account | 3.3K | 2015

Stiles isn't a hooker. He just plays one on TV.

Noteworthy Observations by LadyDrace | 3.7K | 2015

In which Derek recieves complimentary notes in his locker from a secret admirer, and though it turns out they weren't actually for him, things turn out pretty well in the end.

One Hale of a Sandwich by whatthehale | 10K | 2014

Stiles in bed isn’t really something Derek should be thinking about.

Ever.

Because the person who normally picks Lily up from school? Is Scott.

Lily’s other parent. And Stiles’s partner.

Not to mention the entire source of Derek’s current misery.

--

AKA, the one in which Derek thinks Scott and Stiles are in a relationship and that they want to threesome with Derek. Spoiler Alert? They aren't and they don't.

Choice by Omni | 8.6K | 2015

Derek knows what it feels like to not really have a choice, what it's like to be manipulated. He'd never take away someone's right to choose freely. The fear of even accidentally doing so is enough to hold him back from acting on his own feelings.

Stiles has never had a problem making his own choices, and fuck anyone who would try to tell him he can't.

(Or: Stiles gets bitten by a different alpha, but of course would prefer to have Derek as his alpha. And also just, you know, have Derek.)

Emergency Love by Kedreeva | 13K | 2012

Wherein Derek is a firefighter and Stiles is a paramedic, and they just keep meeting.

gave your smile to me by Sarageek16 | 4.7K | 2013

In which Stiles is a hooker (but not really), Derek wants to feed his skinny little body, and there is soup. Not necessarily in that order.