what if someone was braking into that car

anonymous asked:

Can you do MC defending Jumin bc Zen's constant insults/complaining gets on her nerves? ee I'm not used to asking for stuff I hope you're not too busy and I'm not being rude

Author’s note: LOL I hope you guys are as amused with this as I am ;)


  • When Yoosung and Jaehee called dibs on riding with Seven, you KNEW getting stuck with Jumin and Zen was going to be a pain in the ass
  • Who’s brilliant idea was it to have a team building weekend anyways??
  • “Can someone pull up the directions? Seven’s driving too fast for me to keep up.”
  • Jumin sighed and began looking through the glove box of your car
  • “Where’s your map?”
  • “My what?”
  • Your map! You can’t expect-”
  • “Here,” Zen shoved his phone in Jumin’s face
  • The screen lit up as the monotone GPS voiced the directions
  • “Take exit 477 in 3 miles.”
  • “Wow…” Jumin marveled at the phone
  • Zen scoffed, “I can’t believe you asked MC for a map,” he looked over at you, “..Why are you dating this jerk again?”
  • You looked at him through the rear view mirror
  • “Watch it, pretty boy.”
  • He held up his hands in retreat and leaned back in his seat
  • “Take exit 477 in 2 miles.”
  • Jumin handed Zen back his phone without saying a word
  • “What, no thank you?”
  • “What have you done for me to be thankful for?”
  • Zen rolled his eyes, “Seriously?”
  • Jumin shrugged and turned back to the front
  • “It’s like I’m talking to a robot,” Zen mumbled under his breath
  • He really sucks at whispering…
  • “Lighten up, Zen! We’re supposed to be bonding, remember?”
  • “I thought that didn’t start until we reached,” he cleared his throat and raised his voice, “the cabin of wonder!!!” 
  • “Was that a Seven impersonation?”
  • “Of course! Genius Agent Seven Zero Seven is ALWAYS perfect! Never fails! Only VICTORIES!”
  • Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to hold back laughter
  • “Take exit 477 in 1 mile.”
  • “That was so amazing, I’m actually crying,” you choked out between breaths
  • Jumin gave a tiny smile as he watched you and Zen, and decide he wanted in on the fun
  • “I hack computers for a living and suffer from crippling depression!”
  • The laughter stopped
  • You glanced over at your boyfriend
  • “Uh..G-Good job on the impression, honey… very… accurate!”
  • Zen kicked the back of Jumin’s chair and began howling with laughter
  • “That was THE WORST impression of ANYONE that I’ve EVER SEEN!!!”
  • Jumin’s smile faded, but Zen continued
  • “I mean, COME ON?? You have the humor of a rock!! No, wait… that’s insulting to rocks.”
  • “Shut up.”
  • “Really? It that all you got? Maybe you should just hire someone to make up comebacks for you.”
  • Within the next second, the two burst out in an argument, their loud voices filling up the car
  • “Take exit 477 now.”
  • “I can do my own dirty work, you WHITE-HAIRED FREAK!”
  • “WELL-”
  • Jumin was interrupted by the slamming of brakes
  • “M-MC?”
  • You had pulled over as SOON as you had taken the exit, and parked the car at what looked to be an abandoned gas station
  • “Are you two done?”
  • Zen gulped, “W-Well-”
  • “Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison
  • You sighed before looking back at Zen
  • “Listen, I know how much you love pushing his buttons, but Jumin is NOT a robot. He has feelings, okay?”
  • Zen nodded, too afraid of you to say anything else
  • “I don’t want you insulting him anymore,” you looked over at you smirking boyfriend, “or at least not while I’m around.”
  • Leaning over to the passenger side, you got closer to Jumin
  • “And YOU,” you sighed, “try not to make any more jokes unless Jaehee or I pre-approve them.”
  • The smirk dropped off his face
  • “…Fine.”
  • You smiled and put the car back into drive
  • “I still don’t understand how you could think that’s not a robot,” Zen gestured to Jumin
  • “Because,” you smirked, “no robot could be THAT good in bed.”
  • and that was the last thing Zen said for the entire trip
Pennywise The Dancing Clown x Reader: Awesome Mixtape Vol 1

A/N: The reader shares their music mixtape with Pennywise the clown in his lair. *Gotg references vol 1 & 2

Warning(s): Swearing; Clowns; Blood; Injury; Long

You were walking up the street listening to your boombox that your mom gave you. You were going to the old house or what Richie Tozier calls it ‘The Crack Peoples House.’ You’d been going to the house when you needed time to yourself. You just listened to your music on your own.

You sat on the old couch, just listening to your music. After the tape ended, you took your headphones off and you started to go home until you heard a noise in another room. You, being your usual curious self, decided to follow the noise. You just assumed it was crack heads back in the house.

You went downstairs to see a well. It looked weird so you wanted to go inside to see what was inside. Maybe you could find a more secretive place in the house where no one could disturb you. You grabbed the rope that was on the side and you climbed down.

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DAY6 Reaction: They get jealous so they ask you out (Part 2)

A/N: This is Part 2 of my previous reaction so you can check that out here :) So this is just Wonpil and Dowoon; enojy! xx


Originally posted by wonplis

Wonpil had never really been the jealous type, he just liked to make you happy and as your best friend, he did everything in his power to do exactly that. So long as he was the one making you happy, he was just happy to see that despite his huge crush on you that had been brewing inside of him for quite some time. However, while he did care for you as so much more than a friend his own crippling uncertainty meant he could never imagine himself confessing to you, your friendship meant too much to him and frankly he would be crushed if he found out you didn’t feel the same way. However, eventually he started to notice he wasn’t the only one making you happy; at parties you would happily laugh at other guys jokes while they fawned and drooled over you as if it were nothing. Well at this particular party it was clear the boy who sidled up to you was very much interested in you and you didn’t seem to be shying away from the attention at all. It all got a bit much for Wonpil leaving him to leave your side to sit on the grass outside the thumping house. It wasn’t long before you joined him, visibly confused with your hand resting against his back. When you asked him what was wrong his eyes never met yours, he simply mumbled ‘I don’t like him talking to you. Or anyone for that matter.’. You scoffed. ‘That’s pretty selfish don’t you think?’ ‘I am selfish when it comes to you. I really like you Y/N and it’s driving me insane.’


Originally posted by defsoulfeels

You and Dowoon had been driving back from a lunchtime friend date and in the car he was noticeably moody. Usually you would have the radio on blast, jamming in your seats and laughing at each others attempts to lip sync but today was totally different. You sat in cold and stiff silence, him glancing at you every now and again as if expecting you to come to a realization as to some wrongdoing you had committed. Wracking your brain you thought back to the start of the day where Dowoon had been his usual happy self, holding your hand and chatting about his week but now it was like you were sitting with a totally different person. You set your mind back to where it all changed, and it was in the cafe where you were eating lunch. Other than some waiter flirting with you while taking your order, nothing else had happened. Come to think of it, he had refused to put down a tip and was giving him evil side eye every time he approached the table which, you would admit, was a lot. But surely that couldn’t be it, right? Your thoughts carried you back to your place where you forced the hand brake on exasperatedly before turning him with a huff. ‘Okay broody mcmoody, wanna tell me why your face looks like someone broke your drumsticks?’ He simply tried to get out the car but you locked the doors before he could. ‘Don’t you dare Dowoon, we are talking about this. If you don’t want to talk about it fine, but have I done something? Was it the waiter?’ you saw him wince slightly at the last part. ‘I knew it! What is your problem? How did he manage to offend you so deeply?’ ‘Because he was flirting with you Y/N! I’m the only one allowed to do that! And you didn’t even try to stop him!’ ‘And why should I?’ You exclaimed, trying to get your point across. ‘Because you know I like you!’ Dowoon said, seemingly too fast to stop his confession. Silence between you lingered before you unlocked the door. ‘Y/N I’m sorry, I didn’t want to tell you like this-’ you cut him off with a kiss, quick but full of longing, his eyes still shut when you pulled away. ‘It’s okay’ you said, your hand lingering on his arm.

Too Young (Brendan Gallagher)

justapieceofsimstrash asked:

How about a Brendan Gallagher imagine? Maybe reader is his GF and she’s shorter than him & younger than him and he loves it? Thanks!!!

Word count: 1504

Warnings: There are a few mentions of alcohol and consumption of alcoholic beverages in this imagine. 

Author’s note: Honestly the gif just fits a certain part of this story perfectly omg

Originally posted by burakovsbae

The Montreal Canadiens liked to have fun.

Throughout the first three months of your relationship with Brendan Gallagher, you had found out all too well that hockey players and their wives/girlfriends were some of the craziest people you had ever met. It seemed like every night Brendan was invited out by Carey or P.K., even if it was just the boys hanging out at someone’s apartment. Somehow, much to your chagrin, the WAGs had found out your phone number, which meant that you were constantly getting texts asking you to go shopping or get coffee. Brendan swears that he didn’t give your number to any of the wives or girlfriends, but you always saw him smirk whenever your phone chimed and you groaned.

The leisure activity that the Canadiens liked to do the most, though, was go out for drinks. Every single weekend the team would either go out to a bar for drinks or they would gather at a teammate’s house for a BYOB (Bring your own booze) night. When the team went out, they almost always brought their wives and kids. They were fun nights, but there was only one problem.

You couldn’t drink.

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letjonsnownap  asked:

"Puppy," "kindergarten," "stripes," "coffee," and "stegosaurus"

Thank you for the prompt luv! (Send me 5 random words and I’ll try to include them all into a one shot.)

So I was going to do the whole ‘SingleDad!Jon’ thing - but this sprang to mind instead….(I really hope that you like it!)

“Come on kiddos! We’re gonna be late if we don’t go now!” Jon hollered from his place at the front door of his flat, scruffy jogging pants, a shirt with a coffee stain on it and a piece of half eaten toast hanging out of his mouth.

“Uncle Jon, I am not a ‘kiddo’, I’m almost 10 years old!” Rosie grumbled as she made it to his side, folding her arms across her chest. Jon couldn’t help but grin and ruffle her hair, messing up the terrible braid that he had attempted for her.

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Creepypasta #1042: If You See Two Kids On Highway 101, Don't Stop

Length: Medium

The 101 is just a trickle by the time it winds north of Forks. Much of it does not have cell coverage, and in the middle of the night, the darkness is so pervasive that it only steps back a little from the high-beams. Its seems darkest that most near mile post 199.


Taillight reflectors shined through the rolling 2:00AM fog. A car was there, an old dusty 1980’s station wagon driven through the wider part of Hell. The windows were all dusted over despite a heavy downpour ten minutes ago. It appears it was in a crash that had forced the driver’s door open along with the hood. Standing by the car were two kids not more than ten, the boy in a yellow Hulkamanic! t-shirt and the girl in a pink pastel shirt and under jean overalls. The girl, maybe a bit older, waved to get my attention. I leaned over and rolled down the window just a crack. I learned the hard way to never trust strangers.

“Our car’s broken, mister” the girl said as her brother began to cry, “our parents were picked up by a hitchhiker and we haven’t seen them all day. You gotta help us, mister.”

“Hold on. First, what are your names?” The way their eyes gazed back at me reminded me of dead fish on the market. The son, crying moments before, now spoke boldly to me.

“Our parents are MISSING! You got to let us into your car!” There was an uneasy energy to the boy. He didn’t blink when you were speaking to him.

“I can stay here and watch over you.”

“Just let us into your car, PLEASE, mister,” the sister said as she tugged at the old-fashioned handle of my car. Both seemed seemed to wonder why the hell I wasn’t complying.

“There is no reason for anyone to enter or exit my car.” 

The son tried for the back door and would have pulled it open if I didn’t slam down the thumb lock. I did the same for the others. I have been in road jumps before; just because I saw two kids now could mean that others were hiding elsewhere, especially in the woods

The sister began to cry and pound on the window.

“You gotta let us in! We heard growling and we can’t shut our door after the crash! They’re bears! They’re gonna get in and eat us, you gotta let us in!”

“If there is a bear, I will handle it.” 

The boy yanked on the same back passenger side door.

“We haven’t eaten or drank anything all day!” I held up an evidence bag of cherry tomatoes and two bottles of distilled water. They just stared blankly at me, as if doing their best to hide their annoyance. “Are you allergic? Do you want just the water?” 

Nothing. I shifted gears. “Were you stranded all day?” No answer. “If you were, you would have been caught in that rain shower. Your vehicle is dusty. Where did you drive from?”

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Some of my Headcanons for Sally and Lightning Part 1.
  • Their first kiss was under the neon, with all the fam watching.
  • Lightning was the first to say “ I love you! “ 
  • Doc first made sure that Lightning went to his own cone alone and didn’t move from there. But after a while he just let it go.
  • Sally was the one who suggest to move together like : You know Stickers, lets move together! 
  • Lightning was relived that she felt the same
  • And that it wasn’t him the one who brougth that up, he didn’t know how to say it
  • Valentines day is their favorite holiday. 
  • They get to spend all they together, even Lightning takes a brake from training and racing just to be with Sally.
  • Lightning is hoppeles romantic
  • Sally is not. But she tries.
  • Sometimes Sally gets jealous for all the feminine attention he receives. But she knows better.
  • Lightning says he doesn’t get jealous, just annoyed with other cars flirting with Sally. 
  • The only time he punched someone in his face , was during one of his season. 
  • The racer couldn’t stop flirting with Sally to a point it annoyed both of them. But what really set him off was seeing the other car succefully trapped Sally in a corner and steal a kiss from her.
  • As a result he wasn’t allowed to finish the season. But he was ok with that, as long as he didn’t have to see the other racer’s face.
  • The paparazzi had a field-day with all that “drama”
  • They barely fight. They only have one big argument. 
  • Lightning spend that night at Flo’s  V8 cafe. In the morning he left with out saying good bye ,to a race with the RS Team. 
  • Doc wasn’t happy to see that Lightning wasn’t really into the race.
  • During the last of his pit-stop , while Guido is changing his tires and Doc is talking to him, Sally appears.  
  • They look at each other and Lightning came forward to kiss her. 
  • Doc searchs for Lightning thinking he is back in the trail only to find him in the pitstop, kissing Sally like there is no tomorrow.
  • Doc yell and threats Lightning to go back to the trail. Lightning finally obeys and win the race.
  • Doc: I’m too old for this  * sighs*
  • They have a Movie Night , at least once a month.
  • If Lightning is away he will call her and talk on the phone while they watch the same movie
  • Lightning likes actions movies.
  • Sally likes horror movies.
  • They both love Disney/Pixar movies
Mango Float

Street racers!AU

warnings: fight scene, bloody and gory, flirty Minhyun, man Minhyun’s different here, still mafia related, two more chapters then boom done, someone finally breaks, Minhyun getting real tired of Daniel’s shit, strong language, Kita na Kita (I Finally See You).  

Setting the pots outside your store was what you normally did in the morning, but today was an exception. A man was standing outside the boutique, he had shoved his hands inside his pockets while waiting. You stared at him for a minute or two to get a glimpse of his face until he turned around and met your own gaze making him smile.

You averted your gaze to fix the plants outside the closed store before turning the sign. For a split second, you said to the male without facing him, “I’d rather stay inside than wait for the rain to pour.”

He conceded, entering the shop and strolling around the garden. You eyed the guy, a grin creeping up your lips as you watched him observe the hanging plants. Thereafter, you looked back at your desk proceeding to work; however, he interrupted you, “I’m Hwang Minhyun.”

You said, “I know who you are, my grandparents used to talk about you. They tried to set me up with you as a matter of fact.”

He licked his lips whilst nodding his head at your straightforward attitude, he knew you; could almost recite your entire life, and how your grandparents describe you. He just stared from far away at most times.

“Why didn’t you?” He questioned. You replied, “We just met.”

“I’ve known you for years. You just never bothered to stop and look around.” He blurted out which finally made you face him. Minhyun added afterwards, “Do you want to take the day off? Go on a drive?”

“How about tomorrow around six in the morning?” You scheduled, noticing another beam from him. Minhyun drove back to the TRXY bar that evening, a scene unfolding itself inside their room. Daniel was about to throw a punch at Seonho, but Minhyun was quick enough to react and thus he restrained Daniel.

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Craving Something Sweet (Part 3)

Originally posted by archiegifs

Summary: Reader gets spooked when she realizes someone knows about her secret relationship

Warnings: Basically violation of privacy, lots of sobbing and swearing. Also, this might be a little longer that I anticipated so I’m very sorry 

A/N: I had so many requests to write a part 3 of Craving Something Sweet and I might do another one (which will be the final one) if you guys are up for it. Also, if I jumped/forgot about how the original scenes played out in the series I’m sorry. I’m basically depending on two hours of sleep currently and I don’t know how to manage. 

Part 1 | Part 2


The soothing rhythm of the song playing on the radio was the barrier that kept the Lodge family silent while each women got ready for their separate plans that night. Y/N had her usual Pop’s uniform while she finished styling Veronica’s midnight hair for the homecoming dance while their mother was in the other room doing the same. “Sometimes seeing your hair makes me want to chop all of mine, it’s so lightweight and quick to style.”

“Are you kidding? Your long locks are stunning, especially on you.” Veronica complimented her, standing up from the end of her bed to look at herself at the mirror. “Thanks for helping me out with the hair, you always know what looks good.”

“Of course I do.” Y/N chuckled, pressing a kiss at the top of Veronica’s forehead before pilling all the hair equipment from the floor and bed. Y/N’s eyes darted towards an orange envelope with her name at the other side of the bed with the rest of the mail. “Why do you have the mail in here?” Y/N asked, grabbing the fairly large envelope compared to the other ones.

“Oh! I grabbed it before coming in but I must have forgotten to put the rest back on the table.” Veronica shrugged, straightening her dress out.

“Well, have a fun night at the dance and please don’t ruin your hair before the pictures.” Y/N pleaded, pulling the particular envelope close to her chest as she walked towards the bedroom door. “I don’t want the people of Riverdale thinking that I’m a horrible hair stylist.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll let the town know that the best hair stylist here is a Lodge.”

Once by herself, Y/N opened the envelope in her hand and dug her hand in to grab a thick pile of what seem liked photographs. “What the hell?” She whispered to herself as she passed each photograph with anger building up in her veins.

She could recognize the familiar serpent hands roaming every inch of her body in the photographs. All the photographs were her and FP’s intimacy caught in photo by someone who was certainly spying on them. The other photographs caught her making out with FP multiple times at Pop’s, the time they me at the construction site in the middle of the night where she rode him in the driver’s seat of his truck and even the person had caught FP giving her oral in one of the bedrooms in the Andrew’s household the night of Jughead’s birthday party. The sweat dripped down her forehead as she threw the photos back to the envelope angrily. “Y/N, what is it?” Hermione asked, noticing her oldest shaken up by something.

“Nothing, I’m just late for work.” Y/N lied, grabbing her car keys and pressing the envelope hardly to sides. She left the apartment quickly before her mother kept asking questions, especially about the mysterious envelope she kept oddly close to her. What felt like hours, Y/N made it towards her own car and threw the envelope to the passenger seat while she turned on the engine to her car. She knew where she was going, but her mind was in blank. Someone had caught her with FP, clearly an older man and her mother’s biggest enemy.

Y/N hit the brakes once she made it to FP’s trailer and didn’t even bother to lock the car behind her as she made her way up towards the trailer. “FP you better open the door right now.” She shouted, banging and kicking the door without care. It didn’t take him long, but once he opened the door Y/N stormed in the living room and paced around the floor. FP was caught off guard as he was only wearing his jeans and didn’t even bother to put a shirt on.

“What is it? I don’t have time for sex right now, I have to go with Jug-“ FP began, but Y/N slapped the ripped envelope to his chest without giving him a chance to finish his sentence. FP looked at the shaken up Lodge while he pulled out the photographs. “What the hell is this? Who gave this to you?”

“Veronica said it came into the mail and I don’t know, someone knows about us and this is literally going to ruin everything FP! What if my father finds out? He is going to kill me, us!” She shouted, running her hands through her messed up hair.

“Maybe it’s nothing, probably some kid wanting to mess with us.” FP mumbled, throwing the packet of photographs on the coffee table. He was looking for an explanation, he had an idea of who could’ve taken the photos but the idea of it frightened him. “Just relax”

“Nothing? Just relax? FP my baby sister had this in her room with her, imagine if she would’ve opened it and saw her older sister fucking an older man, a man who happens to be the father of one of her friends.”

“We can talk about this later Y/N, I have somewhere important to be.” FP shook his head, leading Y/N to the front door.

“FP, don’t leave me alone right now.” She pleaded, pressing her hands against his chest as tears slid down her now dampened cheeks. He hated seeing her like that, but he couldn’t let his son down once again. “I’m scared.” She sobbed as FP held her close to his hot chest.

“I promised Jug, but once I leave him in the dance I’ll stop by Pop’s. Okay?” FP pulled away slowly, his heart breaking at the sight of her. Her hair was a complete mess, her black mascara was smudged and his poor woman was scared and he couldn’t do anything. In any other situation, she would’ve understood. He fought so hard for his relationship with his son that he couldn’t risk losing him once again. However, she felt threatened and unsafe. Her father had many enemies that would do anything to sabotage the Lodge family at any opportunity they had.

“Please FP.” She cried out, pressing her fists on the closed door in front of her. FP stood on the other side of the door, running his hand through his messed up hair out of frustration. He simply couldn’t let his son down, not at that moment at least. FP slowly backed away from the door, his heart breaking each time her sobs got even heavier. He thought that she would give it up once she realized he wasn’t going to come back.

And she did.

Fidgeting towards her car, Y/N wiped her own tears away from her cheek and aggressively shut her car door once she managed to get in the driver’s seat. Previously, she never needed anyone and especially a man to help her with her issues; she didn’t need him.

“What the hell did we just witness?” Veronica whispered towards a well-dressed Archie, who stood right next to her behind one of FP’s neighbor’s car.

“This town has too many secrets for how little it is.” Archie pointed out as a dressed up FP made his way to his own car a few feet away from the teenagers.

“Now we have two mysteries in our hands Archikins.”  

A few hours later, FP made his way towards the familiar diner and made a sudden halt in the empty parking lot. Strangely, his eyes darted across the lot and didn’t spot her car at her usual parking space while he made his way towards the front door of the diner. “Is Y/N here?” FP asked, startling a waiter he hadn’t seen before in that shift; it was usually Y/N’s shift.

“She called in sick, some food poisoning or something.” The waiter replied without any care of who was asking. FP nodded at the kid and made his way back towards his truck while dialing Y/N’s phone number.

“Hey, it’s Y/N and I can’t come to the phone right now but if you can leave a message I’ll reply as soon as I can.” FP groaned as it went straight to voice mail, knowing she was completely ignoring him.

“I just left Pop’s and you called in sick apparently. I’m going back home, so if you want to talk to me about the photos you know where to find me sweetheart. Also, I’m sorry that I was an asshole. Just please come over so we can talk.” FP sighed, settling the phone down right next to him as the engine roared into the silent dark night. The drive back home was silent and he was definitely not in the mood for some random songs playing on the radio.

He had no other choice, Jughead was his son and his top priority was fixing his relationship with his son. She should’ve understood, but she was falling apart slowly and needed someone to catch her before she lost all hope. Once at home, the red and blue lights flashed as sheriff Keller’s car was parked in front of his trailer.

Once he got out of his truck, with no fear at all he walked towards the cops that were waiting for him. From that moment, it all went by too fast. The neighbors were watching either from outside their homes or hiding behind the cheap curtains that hanged above their windows. Soon, Riverdale would know that FP Jones was arrested and was under investigation on Jason’s murder. Riverdale would change completely on how the saw the people close to FP, especially on his son who fought so hard for his dad. But something that nobody knew about FP Jones, all this time all he did was protect his family. He protected the only person who didn’t give up on him.

After hearing FP’s voicemail, Y/N rushed towards his residence but all she met up with was his trailer full of cops outside and inside the trailer investigating the area labeled as a crime scene. “What happened?” Y/N asked, approaching the small group of elderlies close to her car.

“Didn’t you hear? They arrested Jones for the murder of Jason Blossom.” Y/N’s heart raced a marathon in her chest, her mind going blank as she stepped away from the elderly group who kept on gossiping. It all had to be a mistake, someone had to be framing him. In that moment, the pictures she had left them in his coffee table.

Looking around her surroundings, she slowly made it towards her car. If the cops had found the photos, they might link her into the investigation and even worse, the people of Riverdale would know about the scandalous affair between the two. Not only was her lover being investigated for a murder, but her photos could be laying on a desk back at the station exposed for everyone to see. She needed to get out.

She needed to leave before they got to her.

12.Tell Your Friends - (BTS Mafia AU)

One - Two - Three - Four - Five -  Six - Seven -  Eight  - Nine - Ten -  Eleven Thirteen


“Avoid the crowd,

do your own thinking independently

 be the chess player not the chess piece”

You had never been foreboding when it came to Christmas, it wasn’t a time associated with feelings like that anyway, but the snow was less magical that year, it had always been cold, and throughout November it was a nuisance but December added the promise of something better.

It did not fall through that year though.

The lights strung about at the tops of buildings and illuminated in closed shop windows, flashing reindeer on roof’s and evergreens swatted with tinsel and untangled Christmas lights. There was never such fuss, about anything, and there never would be again.

Until next Christmas of course/

Christmas carols were allowed now, at least partly, not excessive to the once bitter before, more so nostalgic now and everything was stained with red, adorned with gold and swirled in green to add to that extra Christmas commercialism that brought new meaning to money. 

 Full-fat milk stung your glove less hands and you switched it between the two while you strolled past the newspaper stand, flushed in flashing red and white light, between tabloid headlines, and folded broadsheets. Softer foot steps were audible and you concluded Hoseok had worn more comfortable shoes that day. It was dark and you waited for him just outside the door of the shop, holding it open with your foot.

“Halloween’s long gone you know” you commented.

His hair was orange and you liked it.

“Circus hasn’t been in town for a while too, how long you been left behind for?”

You shouldn’t have liked it.

The pack of tobacco was then shoved between his teeth as he fidgeting around in his big pockets and counted his change with the gaze of a cheap accountant and placed it, along with his receipt in the next homeless person’s cup.

There was no pettiness, you found, in watching him count out change and though now always exact, you concluded it was always about the same. 

“It’s always exactly the same” you commented carefully, though there really was no need because Jung Hoseok had never exactly had any reason to as much as be irritated with you, because well, neither of you had done nothing to each other.

There was, in your logic, no reason to be anything but civil with each other.

But it’d reached past civil when you’d come to expect him to be waiting by the bus stop each morning.

“What is?” he’d wiped the saliva he’d gotten on the packet on his coat sleeves before placing it in his back pocket.

“The amount you give someone” you explained. Glancing back at the rough looking man and his dog, stick thin and nails scraping the concrete.

“It’s how much cigs cost” he shrugged, pulling the cap he wore further over his hair, orange bangs parted in the middle, his forehead peaking through, same colour as the amber light the cars sped through and braked on ice to no avail, skids loud, higher than the chances of accidents.

“But the tobacco?” sceptically raising an eyebrow, almost smiling. 

“I said I was trying to stop smoking cigarettes. These technically won’t be cigarettes” he assured you, waving his hands around for emphasis, he was a lawyer in court, convincingly telling fabrications from stretched out theories and truths; entertaining, he deserved his own crime show, about crooked cops and temperamental prostitutes, and second guessing yourself, you decided Hoseok would have made an interesting detective.

“Why?” it was rare Hoseok did not have a cigarette or a pill bottle near his mouth and his jittery fingers were a sign of this. It was all you could do but stand and stare at them curl up, flinch out and shrivel up again as he eventually shoved them into his coat pockets, pink from the cold, blue from the withdrawal. 

“My expertise at making rollies may be far less compared to yours but drugs aren’t exactly my forte” 

He’d said it like he was serious.

You’d paused, your face visibly dropping as you stared at his own in a sort of trance, the irony painful, the confusion adamant. You blinked twice before you averted your eyes to the floor and leaned back against the pole, waiting for the green flashing man to appear, a sign of safety.

It was then you realised that he was serious.

You glanced up once, feeling it an obligation to speak, what for you did not know, you had no words or opinion, Christ, you didn’t even know what to say to him so instead you just glanced up every now and then, the awkward air stifling and dispersing, your quick glances were with held breaths.

He did not look back.

Instead, he spoke as you crossed the street, quick and snappy, little humour from before gone. 

“No clubbing tonight princess”

Your eyes shot up to his, long since lowered as you swallowed all the questions you had. Scepticism buried, it was something you had learnt to do quickly, because it was rare you actually got answers.

You were almost relieved.

“Min Suga wants to talk to you”

He said it in a teasing tone.

And you were correct with your withhold of relief.

“Be ready by nine. I’ll pick you up like usual”

His hands were still in his pockets and you watched him shrug his coat higher with just his shoulders to assure they stayed in them.

But you knew perfectly well.

“Boss’s orders are always final”

It wasn’t a playful joke.

He’d stared straight ahead of you both, you would have known if his eyes had wavered to anywhere else, because you were staring at him the whole time. The chilled milk, long since having numbed your hands, had allowed the feeling to travel up to you cheeks, flushed like Hoseok’s.

No, it was much more sinister than usual.

“And we all know how good you are at following orders”

It was a bitter tune, melodic but still it had stung worse than anything Min Yoongi could ever say to you and it was a reason you’d come to particularly resent yourself for having.

“Not mine though.”

It was because Jung Hoseok smiled at you everyday at least once. It was because Jung Hoseok was scarily content, or so it seemed, to be in your company, and in all honesty, you hadn’t had that in a long time, especially not in your recent situation. So it mattered, it mattered so much it hurt.

He’d laughed and it was one of the first times you’d disliked it.

“Only Suga get’s that privilege”

It mattered because he was the only one who actually made you feel like you mattered.

You were argumentative as hell when it came to this and in the end, lying to your best friend wasn’t something you could handle all that lightly. Neither was the guilt. Of accepting money. Of working for someone so rotten you were sure his own toxicity had brought out yours. Of the night it all started. But most of all, your one most valid reason boiled down to something of childlike simplicity.

Because someone was going to shoot you dead one day.

And in the end, he’d be the only one who would care enough to stop it.

So it mattered.

But you were beginning to realise that getting into that black SUV was translating more to treason than misunderstanding, and word must have travelled quickly, because Hoseok had left you off a block over, getting into his car, his real one a cheap ‘99 diesel engine that made a horrific noise when the ignition was turned on.

There was the gradual assumption of whether he was the only one that mattered to you in all of this as well.


It was Versaille but better, no hall of mirrors comparable, the pastel blue was deafening and the aristocratic detailing of the wallpaper gave you the strangest urge to touch it. Light should have flooded in through two bay windows, but the slowly falling snow outside, gave no path of entry to moonlight and storm clouds hid the only source of light outside. Instead, high chandeliers, two, most likely real and worth more than your apartment spread fluorescent light across the white marble with the same arrogance of it’s owner. No dust swirled in the clear rays and you put your hand forward to touch the place your shadow had disappeared.

Your hand, meeting nothing was basked in crystal rays of domestic invention, gold, like every ring on his fingers, truly a post-Bastille nightmare, every room you’d seen was lit, every room you’d seen was empty.

It was warm, unlike the shadow of the wall with the stolen Van Gogh presented with prestige above a golden fireplace, engraved with Renaissance style carvings, the shadow of the windows ridges made a ladder on the floor.

Min Yoongi lived in suburban Seoul, and with no regard for space, he’d built his empire on one of the biggest lots in the area. 

Hoseok had driven you right up to the door, made sure you got inside and without a word, left.

There were no decorations.


Not a wreath or tree, not that it bothered you, he didn’t seem like the type to do Christmas like most did, if he did it all, though the snow was even more bitter without the fairy lights around and tacky window displays.

It’s impeccable state made up for everything.

No bookshelf left unorganised, everyone, alphabetised, mahogany wood showing no signs of dust, or wear for that matter, to which you assumed had not been because of the owner’s avid reading of them. No scuff marks from the chairs or scratching on the wood, marble floors were almost as shiny as the windows. Though, you had only seen a long hallway and then the room you waited in, you had assumed the rest of his house had been like this.

If it was, in fact his house.

You tried to tell yourself it was worry, that was the reason you were ready to vomit. You tried to tell yourself it was the guilt that morning as you handed Solji your half of the rent, she had suspected nothing, like always. You tried to tell yourself it was the fact that you were standing in the drawing room of one of the most wealthy drug lord of Asia and it still hadn’t hit you yet.

That he was that big.

That he was that important.

That he did indeed have every right to be as arrogant and cocky as he wanted because he knew full well his position, and gladly wore the title with little care or worry. Or so was that the image he portrayed.

But as you awkwardly decided to sit down on the gold trimmed plush chairs, so stiff you concluded it wasn’t well used, though none of the house looked like it was, your insides, eating itself with it’s own acid, were so bipolar for the one reason you refused to admit.

You couldn’t bounce back from this.

Once trust was broken, it would never be mended fully, and he’d said it himself.

He’d given you the option.

He would have put a bullet in your skull if you had decided not to comply.

But it looked like he was ready to do it anyway.

And along with your jump to the conclusion that people did not, especially people of his nature and area of employment, invite strangers, let alone strangers they mistrusted and meticulously disliked, into their very big and easily found home, you came to another very hazy conclusion.

His voice, was ocean trench deep and still smooth, unlike his superiors rough tone, though it was not as soft spoken, polar opposites, but so alike, each of them brought itchy patches to form on your skin and goosebumps to tingle the hairs at the back of your neck.

You’d visibly tensed, so shocked, so out of it, that he’d watched you for a full minutes from the door way before actually speaking.

“I know you’re not a secretary, since we don’t have a secretary, but you got any idea where the boss is?”

His hair was blonde, golden as strung over his forehead in messy layers, his tone was casual, unkempt, like his appearance. What struck you the most was the bitter fruit he’d twirled in his fingers from the moment you’d entered the room, and it was only slightly brighter than the dried brown on his boots, not muck, it had snowed, there was no muck.

After a second consolation of what it was, you decided it must have been muck.

You’d shaken your head.

It certainly was not the other unspeakable substance that you so vividly remembered laying in, warm, unlike the weather, strangler thin, unlike the coat you wore.

He flung himself onto an expensive brown chair, tattered clothing a bad match, but his languid actions had matched his face and in the end, it all seemed too fitting. 

He’d bitten into it before speaking to you. Half of it gone, red stain smudging his cheek as he pulled it away from his teeth. Like a wolf.

“Psychic’s aren’t liars you know?” 

It was not a question, though it was posed as one.

You’d turned your head as he continued.

“You ever been to one?”

You’d shaken your head again.

“Cat got your tongue?” he’d grinned, swallowing the remains of his mid night snack and wiping his stained lips with his sleeve. The khaki stained like white would, badly, though there were a million other comparisons on both the jacket and jeans.

“Or did someone just cut it out?”

Your eyes widened as he suddenly propped himself up, bypassing your chair with enough speed to bring a rush of air from his baggy clothes and positioned himself in front of a bookshelf.

He had not browsed a single spine and instead twisted around again.

Not because you looked, because you were already staring.

“Cause that procedure is quite tricky. You need a steady hand for that, not to mention a knife”

He was the type of person you wanted a million sets of eyes on at once.

“But I already have one of those”

Quicker than lightning and louder than thunder, there was no introduction.

There was no need.

“The steady hand thing doesn’t matter most days”

He was enough of a performer to allow any inessential preface, or prologue. He didn’t look at any of those books, because he was enough of one himself.

“But when it does, it makes all the more difference”

His eyes were wide, hazel contacts staring down at you through a messy fringe of beach waves, blonde and brooding, his face was soft and his voice was rough, and in the end, so was everything else. Like an only child, desperate for a sibling, he begged with no words, and spoke ones so irksome it was hard to believe they’d been said from lips like his.

“So tell me, little miss no tongue, you got a muscle in your mouth or a stick up your ass cause I’m trying to have a conversation”

He was, all in all, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“Neither” you managed to choke out.

He’d smiled.

A grin more like.

It was as innocent as his eyes.

“You just” he frowned as you began again, hurt, though you’d said nothing yet.

“Startled me. I scare easily” your answer was careful, and you kept your gaze on his eyes, as had he, though it was a struggle not to let them falter to the floor. To look at his shoes.

“Aw well that’s cute”

He laughed once.

“You’re cute”

He laughed again.

“But that’s beside the point, you know where the boss is”

And yet there was still no introduction, form of greeting, or any sort of implication that he didn’t realise you didn’t know each other. Or he didn’t care. But you assumed those type of people, Min Yoongi to be example weren’t the type to talk so casually with someone they did not know.

Unless of course he wanted something from you.

He’d already asked you.

Yet he’d done it again.

“No, sorry” you gave your strange condolences with as much masked confusion as you could.

“Then what are you doing in his office?” he asked in a voice that portrayed mockery, as if he was unaware how out of place you were. How you couldn’t possibly know one, where Min Yoongi was, and two, where you were. 

“This is his office?” you’d asked without thought.

“Yeah, well waiting room. For a secretary you’re pretty bad at your job you know that?” 

He was quick to recover and spoke again in one breath.

“Oh wait, I forgot, you’re not a secretary, we sort of need one though, don’t you think, you looking for a job? I can put a good word in for y-”

It cut through his excited ramble like cool steel, sharp and unforgiving, he strode in from a door near the side that had opened without alerting the two of you.

His house, though made to look old, was newer than toddlers taking their first steps and was made on a mixture stealth and secrecy and extreme arrogant flaunting of wealth.

“She already has a job, Taehyung”

You’d reacted slower than you thought you would at first. Eyes, having darted to the now dark haired Min Yoongi, slowly easing back to the ones of a smug Kim Taehyung, bobbing back and forth on his heels, eyes having remained trained on you.

“And so do you, I suggest you get back to it”

Min Yoongi paused curving his footwork to stand a foot away from the taller man who simply smiled, big and rectangular, cheerful.

“Already finished for the day boss” he concluded, friendly to his obvious superior, the elder took little notice of this.

And yet you still stared.

You knew better, but god, you eyed him like he was something from a freak show. The realist bogeyman staring down at you with huge brown eyes and a pleasant looking smirk kissing his chin by how low it went, his eyes crinkled at the sides from smiling and you were forced to admit that it was not muck that caked the soles of his boots. 

“Then I suppose paperwork will suit the unfilled hours and you can leave at closing time?”

His confused face was something of childlike nature and he cocked his head to the side. And then he jutted back up again in the most violent motion you’ve ever seen someone come to a realisation and his once animated self was now struggling to hold back a laugh.

“Oh yeah, closing time”

He glanced at you for a second, as if you didn’t understand this big inside joke, which you didn’t, not all that much anyway. But you weren’t that clueless.

He’d left, grinning, at you not Yoongi and you’d smiled yourself, because he’d paused at the door for a few seconds expectant and slid out through the barely open white wood with little friction.

There was no time for dwelling on your most recent introduction to someone you’d heard too much about and Min Yoongi wasn’t about to set aside anyway for you.

“I assume you’re disappointed” he stated flatly.

“About what?” you dragged your eyes up to meet his and regretted it from the get go. He stared down at you, like he always did.

“Well for one there won’t be any free booze, we all know how much you liked that” 

Today was his day for blatant insults and he behaved, all in all, like a jealous bastard but for a reason unrelated to your own personal affairs, because it was very much professional. 

“And second your chances of finding a traitor in the building is minimal” It was a warning you didn’t need.

His eyes narrowed into slits even though he hadn’t scowled and his mouth remained straight, narrow lips pressed together. He was teasing you but it wasn’t innocent because he meant every word he said.

“I see you met Taehyung?” Small talk was nonexistent and you weren’t sure why he’d taken on this new trait.

“He gave you a nice scare didn’t he?”

You didn’t answer.

“He’s good at that” 

He gave a ghost of a smile.

“Hoseok said you wanted to talk to me” you blurted out under his expectant gaze.

His quick tongue was easily persuaded to form a sentence which brought up the reason you were here.

“Hoseok also said you were a kid, who wouldn’t swat a fly with her own hands”

You weren’t sure why you actually bothered trying. But you did.

“I got into that car okay?” your voice was bordering desperate and you hadn’t realised how broken it sounded till your own words rang in your ears.

“You want me to admit  it right? That I got a five minutes ride from a -” quick and slightly rushed, your voice wasn’t your own as you stumbled to somehow explain yourself. Pathetic, but if you were being honest, anybody would look pathetic in front of him.

Designer suits and combed hair, three colours darker than his eyes, which seemed impossible with how dark they looked most days. Gold snaked around fingers and wrist with the nonchalance of a cheap jewellery, expendable. Though they were expendable to him. They’d break and he’d buy more. He didn’t care, because money burned like fire wood in his life, and he only cared about one thing.

“I can do a lot in five minutes sweetheart, I wouldn’t assume someone else can’t”

The money was just a part of it.

“Even if that person is a low life cheating arrogant little snake”

The bigger picture was much more sinister than an expensive house and the freedom earning big gave you, to buy anything you wanted, except what Min Yoongi really wanted.

“My point isn’t with the fact that I can’t trust you now. I could never trust you, and don’t take it personal kid, I don’t trust anyone. But now, you’re tipping the balance and my patience is short, I know it’s hard to believe”

Sudden petnames made you inwardly flinch.

“But you said it yourself”

He was right.

“You don’t know shit”

But you were beginning to understand.

The reason he wanted Jeon Jungkook’s head at his feet.

The reason he was so adamant on controlling everything you did.

The reason you were kept alive.

“And I told you I could do a lot in five minutes right?”

A powerplay of black and white pieces, Min Yoongi placed you on a chess board like a pawn and wasn’t backing down until he won the game.


One - Two - Three - Four - Five -  Six - Seven -  Eight  - Nine - Ten -  Eleven -  Thirteen




(I doubt anybody actually cares about this story anymore since it’s been months since I’ve posted but here you go)

If you don’t love Bono, it’s probably because you haven’t read this story yet.

The following is an excerpt from Chuck Klosterman’s article “Mysterious Days,” taken from the book Chuck Klosterman IV: A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas.

We begin driving away from the studio, a faceless two-story building nestled along the canal in Dublin’s most relentlessly industrial neighborhood.  Suddenly, Bono - who is wearing sunglasses to spite the darkness - spots four teenagers sitting on a bench in the dark, huddled next to some U2 graffiti and bundled in sweaters (it’s fifty degrees outside, but it feels colder).  Two of the girls are from Belgium, one girl is from Austria, and one guy is Irish.  They have been sitting there for seven hours, hoping to see anything that vaguely resembles a transcendent rock band.  "I’m going to talk to those kids,“ Bono says as he stops the Maserati and jumps out.  I can see him signing autographs in the rearview mirror.  This strikes me as quaint, and I begin jotting down the event in my notebook.  But then Bono opens the trunk and throws the teenagers’ bags inside.  Suddenly, there are four pale kids climbing into the backset of this car.  I guess we’re lucky this is Quattroporte.

"We’re gonna give these kids a ride,” says Bono.  I look over my right shoulder at the girl from Austria, and I am able to see what it looks like when someone’s mind is blown out of her skull; I can almost see her brains and blood splattered across the rear window.  The car takes off.  Bono drives recklessly, accelerating and braking at random intervals.  "Do you want to hear the new album?“ he asks the glassy-eyed teenagers.  This was over a month before How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb would be released.  They say yes.  Bono punches up track four, "Love and Peace or Else.”  He hits the play button, and it’s loud; it sounds like someone dropping the throttle on a Harrier jump jet.  Bono starts singing along, harmonizing with himself.  He’s playing air drums while he drives.  The music changes, and he exclaims, “This is the Gary Glitter part!”  The music changes again.  "This is the Brian Wilson moment!“  The teenagers aren’t even talking; they’re just kind of looking at one another, almost like they’re afraid this is some Celtic version of Punk’d.  One of the kids specifically asks to hear "Miracle Drug,” which makes Bono nervous; he is worried that the album may have leaked to the Internet.  But he plays it anyway, still singing along, and he turns the volume even higher when we get to the lyrics “Freedom has a scent/Like the top of a newborn baby’s head.”  He calls these two lines the best on the album.  This behavior is incredibly charming, and a little embarrassing, and amazingly weird.  But we eventually get to the hotel, and Bono drives up on the sidewalk.  He unloads the kids’ bags, and they walk away like zombies.  The two of us amble into the Clarence.  We shake hands in the lobby, and then Bono disappears into the restaurant to meet some aging painter I’ve never heard of.  And I find myself thinking, Did this really just happen?  Am I supposed to believe he does this kind of thing all the time, even when he doesn’t have a reporter in the front seat of his car?  And does that even matter?  Was that car ride the greatest moment in those four kids’ lives?  Was this whole thing a specific performance, or is Bono’s life entire life a performance?  And if your entire life is a performance, does that make everything you do inherently authentic?  Is this guy for real, or is this guy completely full of shit?  

One of the things Bono casually mentioned in our interview was that Mullen is “incapable of lying,” an interesting quality to employ when describing a coworker.  When Mullen telephones a week later, I describe the situation with Bono and his Maserati and the teenagers, and I ask if this was a constructed event or a guileless occurrence.

“Well, it would be very easy for me to just say, ‘Yes, it was guileless,’ because how would you ever know if I was lying?” Mullen says.  "But the truth is Bono really does do stuff like that all the time.  He really has this insatiable urge to be all things to all people, even when we try to stop him.  Now, does he act differently today than he did twenty-five years ago?  Of course.  But he has always had this desire to be everything.  Bono thinks rock 'n’ roll is so shallow, in a way.  He has always enjoyed the trappings of fame, but he feels this urge to balance it with something more substantial.  He really is a walking contradiction.  It’s always all or nothing with him.  There is almost nothing in the middle.“

this is my favourite story of all time everything about this is perfect

like just the image of Bono harmonizing with himself and air drumming while accelerating and braking at random intervals is pure gold, how can you not love this man 

and just the fact that he’d choose to not only stop to sign autographs for these kids, but fuckin take them on a joyride and play them new songs from the upcoming album… like it sounds so absurd you think maybe it’s all bullshit, but any U2 fan knows this is just what he’s like, he really does love his fans so much that he’ll go out of his way to show it, he is an extraordinary human being and I don’t see how people could possibly hate someone who is so wonderful in every way

and I think Larry’s quote “He really has this insatiable urge to be all things to all people” is one of the best summations of Bono’s personality I’ve ever heard.  He’s not really the type you can pin down in one sentence - or an entire book for that matter - but that’s a pretty good start.

seriously though…

I love Bono.

Cherry (Part 37)- wolf!jikook story

“Look at my little pup! Honey, look at him! He’s grown up so much!”

Jungkook’s mother presumes her “photo shoot” with a motion for Jungkook to tilt his chin upwards, giving a thumbs up when he does so. Standing beside her is his father, a surprising fact due to his urgent business at work. Although he smells like chemicals, it’s nice that he’s here. The way he’s watching the photoshoot with his warm, fatherly eyes has the painfully fake smiles worth it.

They’ve been on the front porch for about thirty minutes, taking photos of all different expressions and poses. At this point, Jungkook’s going to be late on his first day of high school.

Even Jimin, who usually takes a million hours getting ready in the morning, has already left. When they went out for ice cream yesterday (Jungkook found the invitation a little odd for Jimin hadn’t spoken to him since their roof talk, but hey, who could give up free ice cream?) Jimin had stressed the importance of arriving early.

Being that one student that walks into class twenty minutes late, lost and confused, is not high on Jungkook’s list, which is why he’d kept his mouth shut as Jimin gave him important advice. Don’t wear a hat, talk to everyone you can, and most importantly, do not sit in the back of class all quiet and shy.

“Because when that happens,” Jimin had told him, dipping his spoon back into his cup of brownie chunk ice cream, “you usually stay there.”

It looks as if it’s the year Jungkook kicks his quietness to the curb.

“I know, dear.” Patting Jungkook’s back, his father holds him close and presses a kiss onto his ear. For a moment he stills, tail flicking, causing Jungkook to stare at him expectantly. Maybe he’s thinking of the right words to say? “You’ve grown up so much. Just yesterday you were babbling and throwing applesauce all over your mother.” When Jungkook snickers, his father smiles. “We’re proud of you, son.”

“I know.”

“High school’s an entirely different ball game. Learn how to play it, okay? Study hard but have fun.”

Jungkook’s whole body freezes when his father’s eyes flit down to his neck, where the permanent markings mar his skin. In his hurry to get ready, Jungkook had forgotten to cover them up with concealer or spray cologne to mask the scent.

“Okay!” His voice cracks terribly, causing his mother to say something about how ‘baby Kook is still in there somewhere.’ “Time for me to go.” Grabbing the keys from his father’s hand, Jungkook quickly hugs his mother, grabs his bag, and calls out a goodbye as he heads into his car.

Heart thudding rapidly as he starts the car, Jungkook squeals out of his driveway and down the road. A car honks as he serves into their lane, but he barely even registers where he’s going. Anywhere but home.

What was his father thinking when he saw the marks? Does he think Jungkook’s sleeping around? Having a relationship with someone? Or is it something else entirely?

The way his father’s smile had twitched when he saw the marks, nonetheless smelled their cherry scent when he kissed his ears, has Jungkook braking hard as he takes a sharp turn into a Burger King parking lot.

Since it’s so early, there’s no one in the lot. Placing his car into park, Jungkook’s hands slightly shake as he zips open the front of his backpack. Inside, at the bottom with the Cheeto crumbs and plastic wrappers, lays his bottle of concealer.

Popping open the bottle, he dabs the thick liquid onto his fingers and bares his neck. Dabbing the area with makeup, he doesn’t stop until the skin looks clear and healthy.

Throwing the bottle back into his bag, he hears the glass clink. With his luck it’s probably shattered and spilled all over his notebooks, but he doesn’t want to check.

“I’m gonna be late,” Jungkook murmurs to himself, glancing at the time. There’s only seven minutes to drive across town, find a parking spot, and sit down in his first class. What an excellent way to start this year off, he thinks, listening to the car’s engine hum. If he teleported or sped fifty above, perhaps he could make it in time.

Placing the car in drive, Jungkook heads over to the sign that proclaims “Hot n’ fresh!”

Might as well get a coffee while he’s here.

anonymous asked:

hey! we're a new system and not familiar with many terms yet. do you mind explaining what "blurring" is or directing me to someone who can?

3 terms that are v similar:
Co-fronting: 2+ people fronting at the same time. Comparable to one person having the steering wheel, and one person having the brake, ect.
Co-conscious: 1 person fronting, and 1+ person in the backseat. They have no control, but they can watch everything go by, and comment if they so wish.
Blurring/blurry: A state of confusion where no one really knows who’s fronting, and the whole system feels disorientated. Aka, “Who’s driving the car, it’s moving, but I don’t know who’s driving it!”

Hope that helps :)

Chapter 1: Friendly Kidnapping

There was a flash, and two more guards fell to the ground, out cold. The masked man looked from side to side, checking for more targets. He did a hand motion, and several more men lined up behind him, carrying what looked like a body. He looked around the corner quickly, then pulled his head back and pressed himself against the piping. He motioned for everyone to drop the body they were carrying, and he spoke.

“They’ve killed the lights. There’s no telling what’s in front of us.” He glanced around the small circle of people, his eyes landing on a man in a white mask with black symbols on it. “Marv. Make some noise, will you?” The magician’s eyes sparkled. He grinned widely, nodding up and down. He stood up quickly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. The masked man nodded, and Marvin ran out from their hiding place, going into the darkness.

The soldiers who were waching through their night vision goggles raised their stun-guns. Marvin heard the slight movement, and teleported behind the sound. The soldiers gasped as their target suddenly disappeared from view. They heard a giggle from behind them. Turning, they saw the outline of a mask as it started to glow. The diamonds and other markings on the mask let out an eiree light as cards started to float around him.

“You guys shouldn’t be hiding in here! It’ll ruin your eyes!” He flicked a card out of the air, and it landed in the middle of the soldiers. “How about some light?” He waved at them, before teleported get away again. Not a second after, the card exploded, letting out a blinding light that knocked out all the men. Marvin stood next to the body they were carrying. “They should be out now.” One of his friends, a guy in a snapback, nodded towards the darkness.

“How many Marv?” Marvin put his hand to his chin, flicking a card at the body. It outlined their kidnapped friend blue, making him float in the air.

“Five or six.” He nudged the now-drifting man into the wall, and he bounced off of it. Marvin giggled, but another man in a lab coat held on to the body and moved it away from the wall.

“Please don’t injure him. Ve don’t vant him hurt. Remembah vhat vill happen to us?” Marvin crossed his arms annoyingly, and the guy in the hat stepped forward, shouldering his assault rifle.

“C'mon, dude. Marvin was just playin’ around! Besides, I think it was funny!” He fist-bumbed Marvin and he grinned.

“See Schneep? Lighten up! He isn’t going to get hurt so-” The man in the mask shushed them, seemingly trying to listen.

“Footsteps above us. They think we’re trying to go out the main exit. The guards down here were just the standard precaution for the basement. The man with the hat finger-gunned him.

“My boi, Jackieboy!” They started walking again, and after a few doors they came upon one of Marvin’s cards sitting on the floor. As it came into view, the card expanded into a large rectangle, then disappeared. In it’s place was a hole that seemed to lead into an endless pit of blackness. Without hesitation, they all leapt through. As he fell down, Marvin snapped and the portal closed, the card returning to it’s place. They all appeared outside in the desert sand, next to a large truck. Marvin took that card, too, and they all piled into the truck.

Chase sat in the truckbed, gun laying at his feet. They pulled their quarry into the backseat, and Marvin followed behind. Schneep got into the driver’s seat and Jackieboy got in the passenger side. Far off, they could hear the alarm to the facility blaring. The outerlying censors had been triggered. The base knew that they had escaped. Chase stood up, looking into the distance.

“They’ve got trucks on us! Drive drive drive!” Schneep started the engine and slammed on the gas. The back wheels spun for a moment, and then they were off. They moved out from behind the rock cropping that was their hiding place, and sped onto the dusty road. Chase kept his eye on the horizon, watching as a dust cloud seemed to form. He squinted as several black dots seemed to get closer and closer. He gave a quick word to the others, then kicked the side of his gun. It’s parts shifted around, turning into a sniper rifle. He looked through the sight, simultaneously putting his ear buds in his ears. He nodded to the music as he casually shot the front tire of a hummer. The truck spun to the side, and the other cars drove around it. He grinned a little as he shot the tires off of a motorcycle, making the occupant go flying. He shot at a helicopter that was starting to gain on them, hitting the pilot straight in the eye. Finally, only the last truck was left. Immediately Chase noticed the tank-like coverings over the wheels, and the metal plating covering the windshield. He shook his head, flicking his gun again. It deconstructed into a small handgun this time, and he slipped it into his jacket. He knocked on the back window, and Marvin opened it.

“What is it Chase?” Chase shrugged, pointing behind them.

“We’ve got an armored one on us dude. If we get rid of it now, we’re home free.” Marvin gave Chase a card, and another one to Jackieboy.

“Can you take out the truck?” Jackieboy Man smiled, putting his hands on his hips.

“I’d be delighted to!” Marvin’s mask glowed, and Chase and Jackieboy switched places. He leapt out of the truck bed, flying straight at the armored truck. He made contact and went straight through it, taking the drivers with him. On the other side, he placed the bewildered drivers on the ground. “I would work someplace more fun if I were you!” He laughed, before flying back to the truck. Marvin teleported him into the back seat, on the other side of their prisoner.

A good while passed, before someone screamed. Dr. Schneeplestien hit the brakes in surprise. Everyone turned to look at the backseat, where the man had just woken up.

“What the actual-” Marvin interrupted, clapping his hands together.

“Hey! You’re awake now! Wow your eyes really are blue! So shiny!” Their kidnappee looked around at all of the faces of the car, his eyes going wider with each one.

“Where am I?! Why do you look like me?! What’s going on?!!” Chase fixed his hat a smidge.

“We rescued you, bruh! And we looked like total bosses as we did it!” The man just looked even more confused.

“Rescued? I worked there!! I wasn’t any of the experiments!” He covered his mouth too late, and he looked at everyone timidly from above his hand. Schneep spoke up, shaking his head.

“Oh do not vorry. Ve know about ze experiments. Very vell, in fact.” The man seemed to get it.

“Y-you’re all clones of each other! You’re experiments!” Schneep chuckled.

“Ve aren’t clones of each oder. Ve are clones of you. You vere ze original experiment, Sean. And az it turns out, ve need you.”


Eyy… thanks I guess. Maybe I’ll post another one. I dunno… I don’t like it very much. But whatever. It was getting pretty long.

Stay With Me - Part 13

Word count - 2243

Warnings - none.

Requests are open.

Part 1      Part 2      Part 3      Part 4      Part 5      Part 6      Part 7      Part 8      Part9      Part 10       Part 11      Part 12

Okay, I can’t take the credit towards writing this part, meialex did  it and I just want to thank her so much for writing this, I didn’t have the time and she practically did this so shout out to her! 

GIF NOT mine, credits to whoever made it.

Originally posted by ivanisinsane

You wake up 5 am, in your bedroom, alone in your apartment, still not used to not having Harley next to you but you know it was for the best. You get up and walk over to your dresser where you pick out work out clothes. Since you and Harley split, you’ve been working out more to calm your mind. You put on your clothes and head out to the kitchen where you pour yourself a glass of water. You sigh after finishing the glass. You really miss her, you shook your head and put on your running shoes and head out for your morning run.You get back to your apartment building after running 2 miles and head to the gym in your building. You do a few stretches before starting your workout routine. Today you had a lot of frustration to work out because today marks a full month of your split. You did multiple sets of squats, lunges, push-ups, burpees, pull-ups, and weights. You decided to cool down on the punching bag in the corner of the gym. You think of all of the stupid things you’ve done to cause you two to break up, helping the Joker after promising her you would cut all ties with him, your punches land harder. You think of that night you went to go see her at her apartment and you ran into Ivy. You think of Ivy consoling Harley and what usually lead after, kissing and sex. You think of how lucky you were to have her with you, next to you when you slept, holding you, kissing you, just knowing she’s yours. Your punches stop and the bag sways, and you start to feel soreness in your hands. Breathing heavily you stop the bag and hug it because you miss being able to hug her.  You shook your head and walked away from the bag, “It’s better that she’s not with you…” you sighed under your breath and walked upstairs to your apartment. To go in and stretch your neck as you walk over to the sink to get some water. You carry your cup into your room, and finish it before changing out of your clothes and stepping into the shower. Washing your hair and your body you get caught TL in your thoughts. Room for another? You heard Harley say, and shook your head “She’s not here, and she’s not coming back.” you tried to convince yourself. Come on puddin’, I can help you get to those hard to reach areas. Her mischievous smile…you felt a smirk creep onto your face and then immediately dropped “No, you need to move on” you finish up your shower, step out, put on a robe and grabbed a towel to wrap up your hair. You put on some slippers and walked into your kitchen where you made yourself a bowl of cereal. You went to your freezer where you grabbed two bags of frozen peas and then headed to your couch. You sighed when your body hit the couch, turned on the TV and put your frozen peas on your sore hands between bites of your cereal.“Listen Harls, she’s no good for you. How do you know she’s not gonna go behind your back again?” a soothing voice whispered. “Yeah but I miss her Ivy…” the voice sadly trailed off as she looked down at her lap. “Oh princess,” Ivy sighed while fixing Harley’s hair behind her ear. “I hate seeing you mope around about her” she lifted up her head and stared into her eyes “you’re with me now, and you know I will never hurt you in any way…unless you hurt my babies” She added and smiled and got one in return from Harley. “come here” Ivy shifted her body so that Harley could lay down on her chest with her on the couch, and kissed her head. “I won’t let her hurt you ever again” Ivy whispered into Harley’s hair as she held her.You looked at the time 8:15am, and got up to go change for work. You recently got a job at a clothing store just to keep you busy and to pay your bills obviously. The job was boring but it had its moments where it made you forget about her. Every once and awhile a customer would hit on you as you rung up their clothes. Today a  tall brunette woman, maybe a year or so younger than you came up to your register even though there was another one open and set down their clothes. “Hey…uhh…” she searched for a name tag, “what’s your name?” “Y/N…” you smiled politely and made eye contact for a brief moment before continuing to take off security tags on their clothes. “Y/N…I’m Gia, you have very good eyes.” they awkwardly shifted and knitted their brows knowing that they didn’t say it correctly. “Thanks, I credit eating a lot of carrots as a child.” you smiled playfully at them just trying to make it less awkward for them. They chuckled as you rung up their last item. “So, can I pay for this and for a dinner with you sometime?” She smiled raising an eyebrow as she payed and signed for her clothes. You thought about it quickly while printing out their receipt. They seem nice, why not try to make friends. Come on, Harley moved on. “Uh sure, why not” You shrugged and smiled, “let me write my number on your receipt here.” You quickly wrote down your number. It’ll be fun, you need to try and move on. And put the receipt in the bag with their clothes. “Have a great day”, you smiled and handed them the bag. They beamed, took their bag. “I’ll text you details so we can plan it out.” and turned to walk away. Your day went by quickly after that. You sighed when you got into your car and rested your hands and forehead on your steering wheel. I shouldn’t have encouraged that and given them my number. You looked down at your phone and saw a text: “Gia here, thanks for checking me out today ;)” You groaned and threw your head back. I’m so fucking stupid, I know I’m not over Harley. I’m going to end up hurting this girl too because I’m just using her as a distraction. You sighed and turned on your car to head home.  Whatever.“LET GO OF HER!” Harley screamed in her sleep on the couch. Ivy walked over to her from the kitchen and put her hand on Harley’s shoulder and squatted down to her level. “Harley, hey you have to wake up. It’s just a dream, hun” Ivy lightly shook the rapid breathing body. “Come on princess, wake up.” Harley sat up violently sobbing and yelling “HE TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!” and turned over to Ivy. “He took her away from me…” she wrapped her arms around Ivy’s neck and cried into her shoulder. “No, no, no. She willingly did that Harls. He is fucked up but he didn’t drive her away from you. She left because she betrayed you and went against your word.” Ivy consoled the crying blonde and slowly stroked her hair. “It’s her fault she left, not his. I mean he’s still a bag of dicks but he didn’t cause this.” “If he didn’t call her then she would still be here.” she sniffed. “she didn’t have to go to him.” she hushed Harley and lifted her up so they’re face to face. “You’re with me now, you don’t have to worry about her anymore.” She pressed her lips against Harley’s and leaned back. “Now let’s go splash some cool water on your face.”meialexYou were going home and as the light turned green you noticed a car coming up quickly from behind. Gonna kill someone going that fast, dumbass. The car speeds by you and turns so it’s blocking your way. “SHIT” You slammed the brakes skidding to a stop and breathed heavily staring into nothing for a moment until you snapped back and grabbed your gun in your glove box just in case something happens and stepped out your car barking at the person blocking your way “What the fuck was that for dumbass?!” The person steps out in all black, Batman. “Fuck…” You furrowed your brows and shot at him before he ultimately knocked you out. You woke up in a dark room on a metal bed disoriented. “where…” looking down noticing you were in different clothes, remembering Batman you yelled into the darkness, “HEY B-MAN, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME?” you groaned and held onto your head as it pounded and you look around the room trying to get an idea where you are. The lights in your room,that SURPRISE is actually a cell, turned on, and a group of men walk in, shoved you into a wheelchair strapping you down, and escort you as you wriggled around to get free not sparing any hits from every attempt at escaping. They led you into a room with a table bolted down in the middle of it. They lifted you of of the chair, cuffed your hands and ankles to the table, you spat at a guard and for good measure he punched you one last time but before he walked off you snapped at him “HEY WHY DONT YOU TAKE THESE CUFFS OFF AND WE’LL SEE WHO THE REAL TOUGH GUY OR GIRL IS HUH?” he laughed at you and walked out the door. “Pussy… “ you said under your breath as you looked up to see a figure emerging from the shadows of the room. “Batsy, Batsy, Batsy…” you teased “what do you want from me? I’ve been a good girl recently” you pouted and smiled.“where’s the Joker?” he attempted to scare you. “Why would I know?” you rolled your eyes looking around the room and scoffed. “I know you and the Joker work together.” he took a step closer showing me a picture of the news when he kissed me. Your stomach knotted. Great, even Batman thinks I’m with J. You furrowed your brows and shook your head. “We don’t, and I’ve been trying to live a normal life recently just so you know, I got a job at a clothing store.” you leaned into his direction squinting and then leaning back into your chair. “Where am I anyway?” you asked pointing and looking around. “Arkham Asylum” You choked on a laugh, “Seriously? Me? Well I’m honored that you think of me as such a threat but I don’t plan on causing havoc anymore.” You shrugged your shoulders. You can tell he was thrown off by that last bit you said. “What, surprised I don’t want to cause chaos?” you snorted and shuffled your handcuffs around as you leaned into the table. “I’m done with that B-man.” “Why,” he said in a demanding voice stepping closer to the table. “Because I don’t have time for it” you rolled your eyes. “Is it because of Harley?” Your heart sank and your face dropped when you heard him say her name, you blinked hard and knitted your brows, “Why would you think that?” “I’ve been keeping an eye on her since she left the Joker. I wanted to make sure she cut off any connections with him. And then I noticed you were with her often, and I never saw her by his side anymore.”  he stared hard at you.“Look,“ you awkwardly laughed, “Her and I aren’t together anymore man. I’m doing this for me.” You tried to force a convincing smile to try. He sat down in the chair opposite of you putting his hands on the table causing you to lean farther back into your chair. “I know you care for her, even still and whatever thing happened between the joker and you that night caused you to fall apart. But you need to help me find him.” You were caught off guard and your face obviously showed it. “You must be fuckin’ crazy, you should be sitting in handcuffs and prison clothes not me.” You said raising your hands that were still in cuffs attached to the table. He smiled, which was unsettling because he’s not really a happy guy. “If you agree to help me, you don’t have to stay here,  and you will be placed into a better job and place to stay with someone I trust.” He finished and got up. “I’ll be back in 2 days to hear your decision.” he started walking towards the door. “Wait…” You stuttered which caused him to stop in his tracks. You thought about Harley and hesitated knowing she hates both Mr. J and Batman but you know that you will never get her back. “I’ll help…i don’t know if he’ll fall for whatever you’re planning but I’ll do it” you sighed knowing that this is the only way out of here besides death. He left the room without saying a word. “hey!” you tried to yell at him, “I SAID ILL DO IT!” you tried getting up to follow him but your cuffs held you down. A group of men came in, held you down in your chair and held out your arm. “GET OFF ME YOU FUCKING ASSHAT!” You struggled to fight them off of you but before you know it they injected something in your arm and seconds later you passed out.Harley always thought of you. She often wore your sweater you left behind so she could just feel your comfort and smell you. She sighed because she knew was being stupid and that she should focus more on Ivy since she’s with her now. Hugging herself, she remembered the night she last saw you when she missed the opportunity to kiss you and get you back. Her eyes started to tear up. “Get it together Harls, “ she whispered to herself as she walked over to her bed. “She’s lost your trust, she’ll do it again.” yeah, but maybe she won’t, you know she loves you, come on Harley go find her, you still love her, she obviously had a good reason. The voices in her head kept going but she agreed. “Yeah, I should go find her.” she smiled, “she probably misses me.” Harley threw herself into the shower and then threw on her “sexy” dress and heels. “Even if she doesn’t miss me, she will.” she smiled at herself in the mirror as she put on makeup and did her hair.

the “i own a car” masterpost

HEY EVERYONE so i’m poor and i have a lot of experience dealing with shitty cars and how to maintain them SO i thought i would impart some of my wisdom upon you all!!

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Never Forget (Theo Raeken One Shot)

Originally posted by teenwolf

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Slight angst 

Word Count: I honestly don’t know. 

You looked around the lunchroom. You’d felt different for the past few weeks, and you just couldn’t place the feeling. Was it loss? Regret? Or was it your mind trying to remember something that never happened? 

You couldn’t quite put a finger on it, despite the help from all your friends, your mom saying it was probably just a homework assignment you forgot to turn in. 

So, like the typical teen you were, you shrugged it off. Or so everyone had thought. You weren’t one to give in so easily, and the mere idea that you had forgotten something so important was driving you insane. 

You got up from your lunch table, slinging your bag over your shoulder, and mumbled a goodbye to your group of friends. You tossed your lunch into a nearby trashcan, as you hurried off to your locker to put some of your things back. You looked around the empty halls, before scrambling out of the school, carefully avoiding the security camera’s. 

You felt a rush as you looked around the parking lot, sliding into your car. You’d never ditched school before, especially not because you had a hunch on something. But this time, it was different. You weren’t just giving an estimated guess, you were positive.

You rushed down the road, searching for…well, you didn’t know. But you were sure you were going to find it. As the sun began to set, you pulled off to the side of the road, scrolling through your phone, to very angry texts from your mom, wondering where you were.

You let out a sigh, and turned it off, sitting in silence, as you let your tension fill the air, a feeling of dread welling up inside. You hit your steering wheel lightly, before pounding on it. 

How could you have been so foolish? How could you have thought that there was honestly something missing? Maybe your friends were right. Maybe you were crazy. Or tired. It didn’t matter. 

You pulled your car into reverse, reading to speed off down the road, before you heard someone yell, “Whoa, WHOAH!” You pressed down on the brakes, turning to look into your rear view mirror. 

A boy stood in the road, his arms raised as you got out of the front seat. You slowly made your way over, stopping at the tail end of your car, arms crossed over your chest, while you yelled words bout being more careful. 

“You almost ran me over!” He exclaimed, while you rolled your eyes. 

“Really, Theo? You would’ve been fine-” You stopped mid sentence, realizing what you had just said. The boy looked at you from the corner of his eye, his demeanor suddenly less cold. 

“How’d you know my name?” He asked, more curious than freaked out, like you had originally suspected. You shrugged, pulling your sweatshirt around yourself. 

“Y/N…” He muttered taking a step toward you. You stood your ground, your lips forming into a frown. 

“Y/N, it’s me, Theo…” You felt him place a hand on your arm, and in an instant, you felt a series of memories flood back to you. The first time you met. The day he asked you out. Your very first date, and at the end of the night, your first kiss. 

You looked up from his hand on your arm, his name seamlessly falling from your lips, as he pulled you into a hug, feeling as though he would never let you go. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling Theo tighter, wishing that you could’ve prevented the tears that had fell onto his shoulder. 

“Wha-what happened? How- why did I forget? Are you ok?” You exclaimed as you pulled away, worry flooding out of you. He smirked a bit, and pulled you in, placing a fierce kiss to your lips. He smiled, whispering into your ear.

“I’m fine. I knew you’d never forget.” 

Hope you liked! Keep requesting! Love you guys!

Kidnapped - Jumin/MC Fanfic

First: Thank you so much for the kind words, @blakerose-blog​! I’m really glad you liked it :) This request took me a while to do and ended up being pretty long again >_< I hope you like it!

Fair warning: Though this is set in an alternate Jumin route timeline, it still has some spoilers for his route and definitely spoilers concerning an important person in Seven’s route. I’d recommend that at the very minimum you’ve played Zen’s route, since I used his route as a sort of basis for this AU situation. (If you’ve played Seven’s you’re probably okay for spoilers)

PG-13 for some swearing. Oh, also I use you/your for this fic to refer to you, the reader, but due to plot needs I had to give MC a name so I called her Kassi/Kasumi, which is what I called my MC in Mystic Messenger. So, if you read that, it’s referring to you.

Enjoy! ^^

How could they have been so reckless? Jumin wonders, pacing in his office. Jaehee stands by the doorway, a troubled expression on her face. Jumin dials V’s number for the hundredth time and listens to it give him a ‘we’re sorry, the number you are dialing is currently without service’ message for the hundredth time as well.

“Mr. Han, I think it might be best to leave the rest to Luciel. I’m sure he’s doing all he can—”

Jumin slams a fist on his desk. “It’s not good enough! How could we have let our newest member live with a bomb in her apartment, for God’s sake? What was Rika thinking? What was V thinking? Or Luciel! Why did he keep this from us?”

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Caller Number 9

Summary: Because let’s face it, your girlfriends won’t tell you when the boy of your dreams isn’t interested. So what’s left? Calling the late night radio show host known as Min Suga is a good option right? He’ll tell you how it is and ruin you while fixing your love life. Counterproductive? Definitely.

Original Scan: ©

Chapters 1-13

Chapter 14: Voicemail pt. 2

Can we talk?

Read√√ at 10:46 pm

If there’s something that grates on Yoongi’s nerves, it’s being ignored. He can deal with being disliked, foul mouthed comments and opinions that he never asked for, even dirty looks. What he will not tolerate is someone ignoring his presence and the attention he has given. Had it been someone else he might’ve brushed it off with a scowl and a nib of discontent, but when he looks down at the name of the receiver and rereads her earlier request to speak, the irritation sparks like a match and seems to burn steadily.

Keep reading