#and i know my uni town so i can get around easy

[yazmarina]

walk me through it

for the love circuit series

—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.

franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases

a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa

Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.

Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.

You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.

This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.

But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.

He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.

"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.

Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"

You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."

"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."

"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.

"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.

You can smell his perfume from where you stand.

"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.

"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."

Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."

"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.

You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.

"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.

The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.

That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.

Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.

So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.

And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.

"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.

"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.

You gulp. Franco smiles.

"Anything is possible this weekend."

-

"You broke the internet last night."

You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.

It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.

Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.

"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."

You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.

But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.

"Hi."

"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.

You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.

"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.

"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.

"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.

"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."

The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.

"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.

"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.

"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.

I will talk to you later.

Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.

-

Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.

P11.

Almost there.

-

"Hi. Come in."

Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.

"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.

Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.

"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.

"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.

Always straight to the point.

Like this morning.

You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.

You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.

Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉

It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.

You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.

Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?

You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.

You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀

It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.

Easy.

"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.

"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.

The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.

You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.

You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.

"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.

Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.

"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.

"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.

You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.

"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.

Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.

"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.

"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.

"Is that your camera?"

You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.

"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.

"Knock yourself out," you say.

Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.

"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.

"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.

You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.

"Just...touch yourself."

You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.

"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."

You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.

The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.

"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.

"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."

Click.

"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"

You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.

"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.

Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.

You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.

Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.

Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.

Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.

It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.

Oh, well.

Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.

Franco. Franco. Franco.

He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.

Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.

"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.

"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.

Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.

Franco chuckles. "Very."

[mimipolo]

Hii I was gonna ask if you can do a headcanon about how Nam-gyu acts when he's jealous (and if you do anons can I be the rose🌹?)

Jealous! Nam-gyu x reader headcanons

He's definitely the type to get to stupid amounts of jealousy unprovoked

Anyone that knows how to make my works look prettier please dm tutorials or advice pretty please :^

When this man gets jealous you can easily tell. You're just catching up with one of your friends from uni and he's hovering over your shoulder and squinting at the poor guy like he killed you expecting him to take the hint.

He's standing unnecessarily close to you, his grip on your waist or shoulder constantly tightening as if you'd accidentally trip and fall into the other guys arms.

Actually has the audacity to ask the two of you "Are you done?" mid conversation and you both just share looks of astonishment, looking between yourselves then at him. It's so tense you both just have to laugh it off as he awkwardly walks away saying he hopes to see you around town again.

"Good riddance..."

Is all you hear from behind you and then he's tugging you in the opposite direction, wherevers furthest from that guy. He's pestering you with semi rude comments towards them as you walk away.

"What's his deal anyway?"

"Did he need to talk to you that long."

"He thinks he's all that, arrogant dick."

You roll your eyes and make a show of groaning dramatically at his behaviour to which he blatantly ignores, glad that you're (he's)not talking with them anymore.

It's one thing with people, it's easy for him to have jealousy towards them and even easier to justify himself. But when people aren't the problem is when it gets difficult. You're so dedicated to this pet/hobby/interest of yours and he's wondering why you couldn't obssess yourself with him like that.

You've been working on the same peice for a while now, you estimated that after two or three more days you'd finally be done. What you hadn't recognised was Nam-gyu constantly hovering around you all throughout the project. Offering you tea and asking you to come lie in bed with him, the vulnerability confused you but you just summed it up to being another one of his clingy moments. That's until he finally speaks up, his head resting atop of yours, his hands resting on the back of your chair. If you had taken a moment to glance up you'd see the visible pout frown on his face.

"[Namee]..."

"Hm?"

He lips furrow deeper, you couldn't even answer him, this dumb project you're working on has been occupying every small gap of time you had and leaving none for him, and of course you were oblivious. He liked that about you but damn he had offered you tea??

"You're always hunched over this table, when are ya finally finishing this thing?"

It would've been a normal question, even one of concern if it wasn't for the clear bitterness and irritation that laced his words. This catches your attention and you turn your head towards him a slight sympathetic yet playful look in your eyes.

"Aw, ya miss me Nam?"

"Go to hell."

Tutting disapprovingly at his words, he sucks his teeth in annoyance when he sees the winning grin on your face, you knew he'd eventually cave and start complaining. And so stretching your back you decide to pause your progress for tonight.

"All right then, bed it is."

He huffs like he doesn't care if you do or not but he's already making his way to lie on the bed as you push your chair out, you have to bite your lip in order not to laugh.

Totally the type to be petty, turning on his side when you two are sleeping then regrets it like five seconds after and is turning on his side to lean against you. You don't have to say or do anything.

The most embarassing moment of jealousy he's had was when you were holding one of his new born nephews with the most doting look in your eyes. You asked him why he looked so serious and he said how you should be holding him instead he's just hoping his sister rests up soon.

He's so dumb.

[keepingitformyself]

we might just get away with it (iii)

A/N: sorry for the long wait, truth is life has been life-ing. and uni has also had all my attention. using all this inspo and energy to write as much as i can!!! hoping it lasts me a while. enjoy this third chapter :)

previous parts: part i part ii

synopsis: hollywood is a tricky place for someone new like you, a certain elusive redhead is hoping you can let her in.

pairings: writer!natalie rushman x youngactress!reader

genre: slow burn asf

warning: super slow burn. sorry gang, hang in there.

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

you find out shortly after lunch with natalie that you’ll be set to shoot another film outside the country. samantha sends you a text saying:

cooper raiff wants your number. you got the job.

in the next seconds jenna’s caller id flashes on your screen. an excited exclamation when she greets you.

“guess who you’ll be seeing in new zealand…”

————

5 months later.

the life of an actor is very fast paced.

you’ve spent the last few months in new zealand shooting for another film. you lived out of a tiny home in the new zealand countryside but you don’t ever complain about it.

because why would you? your free days are spent going to local bars in the small town you stay in with cast and crew. jenna, on days off set will make you—and sometimes the whole cast—dinner and you’ll both sit outside your neighboring tiny homes enjoying the evening sky.

you do what you love and you do it with people who you adore.

but,

you’ve also spent the last few months jumping on calls over zoom with your writers room for the series. sometimes with greta, natalie and series producers, sometimes just you and greta or you and natalie.

it’s all really great.

right before your last week in new zealand you do get a call though. it’s natalie and greta, both on facetime. they break the news that the script is nearly fully developed and it’s only a matter of getting everything finalized and ready for production in the coming months.

you’re in the middle of getting your makeup done when you find out. you’re so ecstatic you nearly jump out of your seat. it earns you questioning looks from jenna and auli’i, both girls seeming interested to know what disrupted your peace.

before you know it you’re back from filming in new zealand and catching a flight back to la.

your brain is reeling. the pressure is on. and when you arrive at the airport there’s distant camera shutters as you try to retrieve your luggage.

in the car ride home you get a message from natalie.

welcome back. can we meet before the meeting tomorrow?

and so you do.

natalie texts you to meet at a coffee shop, near the west side of hollywood, she’s typing concentratedly into her laptop when you spot her at a corner table.

“hey, stranger!” you say once you’re in front of her.

natalie looks up in an instant. her eyes shine and her smile reaches them. she’s up and circling her arms around your waist in the next second. her embrace on you is one that you weirdly find much relief in.

“please, sit. i ordered your coffee for you already.” and she’s tucking out a chair across from her for you to sit in.

but you’re caught in confusion at her words,

“how do you know my coffee order?” you ask.

all she does is smile like it’s the most obvious thing ever.

“we’ve been working for so long. i’ve memorized your order from all those meetings with greta and such.”

and all you can really do is laugh because you suppose it’s sort of easy to catch onto something when it’s the same every single time. still, it’s oddly thoughtful, and that thoughtfulness makes your chest feel warm, a sensation you’re not entirely sure how to process.

you sit down, folding your coat over the back of the chair, and reach for the cup in front of you. the familiar aroma greets you, a little comfort in the chaos of the past few months.

natalie’s gaze lingers on you as you take your first sip, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if she’s always been this observant. or maybe, you’ve just been too preoccupied to notice.

“so,” you say, breaking the silence as you set the cup down. “what’s the meeting-before-the-meeting about?”

natalie leans back in her chair, crossing her legs in a way that looks effortless but is probably calculated. she tilts her head slightly, the hint of a smirk playing on her lips. “can’t a colleague just want to catch up?”

you narrow your eyes at her, skeptical but amused. “you don’t strike me as the type to waste time with small talk.”

“fair,” she admits, her smirk softening into something gentler. “i wanted to talk to you about the upcoming season—off the record, before the full team gets involved.”

now she has your full attention. “okay…what about it?”

natalie glances around the café briefly, as if ensuring no one’s listening, and then leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “it’s about your character. greta and i have been discussing some adjustments, and we want your input. you’ve lived in her skin for a whole season. you know her better than anyone.”

her words catch you off guard. “you’re asking for my input? like, before the script is finalized?”

“exactly,” natalie says. “you’re not just the face of the show; you’re its heart. and i want this season to feel like it belongs to you as much as it does to greta or me.”

it’s a compliment so disarming that you find yourself momentarily speechless. you’d been prepared for a critique, maybe some notes on your performance, but this—this feels different. it feels…personal.

“i—i don’t know what to say,” you finally manage. “that means a lot, natalie.”

her eyes soften even further, and there’s something unreadable in her expression. “you deserve it. you work harder than anyone i know.”

before you can respond, your phone buzzes on the table, breaking the moment. you glance at the screen: it’s a text from jenna.

dinner tonight? i’m making that thing you like. bring wine.

you smile at the message but quickly turn your attention back to natalie, who’s watching you with quiet curiosity.

“sorry about that,” you say, locking the screen. “so, what adjustments are we talking about?”

natalie shifts her laptop toward you, opening a document filled with notes and outlines. as she starts explaining the changes, you’re struck by how passionate she is—not just about the show but about your role in it.

and maybe, just maybe, about you.

later that evening, you’re standing outside jenna’s apartment door, bottle of wine in one hand and your phone in the other, responding to yet another text from samantha. the scent of garlic and fresh herbs wafts through the open window, a promise of something comforting and homemade. you don’t have many constants in your life right now, but jenna’s dinners are one of them.

when she answers the door, she’s wearing an oversized sweater, her hair messily tied back. “finally! i was starting to think you ditched me for someone more interesting.”

you roll your eyes, stepping inside and handing her the wine. “because i have so much free time for that.”

“hey, you’re the star now,” she teases, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. “how was the meeting? or can you not talk about it? big, scary NDAs and all that.”

you follow her to the kitchen, watching as she plates roasted vegetables and some kind of stuffed chicken. it smells incredible, but you’re already preoccupied with her question.

“it was fine,” you say vaguely, leaning against the counter. “productive.”

jenna glances at you over her shoulder, her brow raised. “you’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“i’m not lying!”

“then why do you look like you’re replaying the entire meeting in your head right now?” she sets the plates on the table and gestures for you to sit. “come on, spill. was it greta? did she grill you about something? or wait—was it natalie?”

you blink, caught off guard. “why would it be natalie?”

jenna shrugs, pouring the wine and sitting across from you. “i don’t know. you just get…weird when you talk about her.”

you frown, trying to process what she means. “weird how?”

you had previously mentioned natalie to jenna. back in new zealand she'd always wonder who you were having meetings with all the time. the girl got curious, and would ask so many questions. sometimes, she'd be in the same room as you when they happened.

she'd catch moments with you and natalie as well. something jenna thought was just natalie being overtly friendly, but then when you'd look off to the side and meet jenna's eyes, she knew you were thinking the same.

“like you’re trying not to think about her but failing miserably.” jenna takes a sip of her wine, studying your reaction. “she intimidates you, doesn’t she?”

“not exactly,” you mutter, cutting into your chicken.

“she’s a big deal,” jenna continues, unfazed. “a genius writer, total powerhouse, and not to mention—”

“don’t,” you warn, already knowing where this is going.

“—drop-dead gorgeous.”

you groan, covering your face with your hands. “i’m not having this conversation.”

“oh, come on! you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“of course i’ve noticed,” you admit, your voice muffled behind your hands. “everyone notices. but it’s not like that.”

“not like what?”

“not like…that,” you repeat, gesturing vaguely. “she’s like my boss, for one thing. and for another, she’s just—she’s natalie. she’s focused, brilliant, older, wiser, and way out of my league.”

jenna tilts her head, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. “so, you have thought about it. wouldn't it be hot to date someone older than you though?”

you glare at her, but your flushed cheeks betray you. “i'm not talking about this anymore.”

“fine,” she says, holding up her hands in surrender. “but just so you know, if someone like natalie rushman was looking at me the way she looks at you? i wouldn’t be sitting here eating chicken with my best friend. i’d be figuring out what that look means.”

you shake your head, pretending to focus on your plate. but jenna’s words linger, stubbornly taking root in the back of your mind.

does natalie look at you differently? you’ve noticed her attentiveness, the way she always seems to know exactly what to say to put you at ease. but you’d chalked it up to her being a consummate professional, someone who’s mastered the art of making others feel seen.

now, though, you’re not so sure.

jenna grins at your silence, clearly pleased with herself. “think about it,” she says, clinking her glass against yours.

and you do. later that night, as you lie awake staring at the ceiling, your thoughts drift to the way natalie had smiled at you earlier, her voice low and certain when she called you the heart of the show.

you tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything.

but deep down, a tiny part of you wonders if it does.

[exy-and-i-know-it]

I just work here

Based on this post by @all-for-the-things-breathing on Tumblr

Neil works at Exites because it's as good as he knows his Exy career will get, and he knows that for his safety, it must stay that way until one day, the Queen of Exy decides he simply must have him. (This is sort of a crack fic, but I can't write crack to save my life, so it's pretty serious until the very end. I'm also fairly new to writing in the past tense, so there is that.)

Note: The author of this prompt wrote a fic for this themselves, but I didn't see that at the time of my writing this (5th June). I haven't read it, but if you like this fic, you should probably check it out on their Tumblr @all-for-the-things-breathing.

A regular uni student, that’s what Neil Josten was. Absolutely, very, totally extremely, every word in the thesaurus, ordinary, that was for sure. Well, as ordinary as you can get with a serial killer for a father and a mobster for a mother. Still, he’d managed quite well on his own he thought, managing to procure a job, just so it wasn’t too suspicious how he was so easily affording school. Okay, maybe a job as a sales clerk at a sporting goods store was that good a cover for his stolen cash, but jobs are hard to find!

And, in his defence, Exties was just any sporting goods store, no, no no. Excites was a speciality store. They sold gear for one sport and one sport only: Exy. This happened to be the sport that Neil lived and breathed by, as much as he could anyway. He’d played Little League up until junior high, but that was all it was ever going to be for him. Having a team meant committing for a year, it meant putting down roots which he couldn’t do when on the run where he might need to skip town at a moment’s notice. He certainly couldn’t pick up the sport in uni, that would only force upon him the very notoriety he’d been trying to avoid all his life. He’d made his peace with that, and this life in general. But he could watch, and he could dream.

This was as close to Exy as he was going to get, and that was good enough (it wasn’t), it had to be. And he did get to play some (barely, not really), when customers were trying out new racquets and needed someone to practise against. He’d copped to his junior high experience in his interview, it was the most honest he’d been in a while and his head spun when the manager hired him on the spot. Apparently the rest of the staff were just more broke kids taking whatever they could get. There were a few little league coaches who helped and some high school coaches who came in to advise on panels the store held occasionally, but they were never around reliably, so demonstrations and “try-ons” fell, nearly exclusively, to Neil. If he was a bit proud of that, he didn’t have to bring it up. Either way, the staff were glad to have him around. (If it didn’t make sense to him why someone would work in a shop selling gear for a sport they’d never even tried, he kept himself from saying so.)

And life in South Carolina wasn’t bad. The weather was good, in all but the peak of winter in December and January, and when it got hot the aircon in the store would be on blast anyway. It wasn’t bad at all. On break, he’d chip away at the seemingly endless amounts of maths homework, or, if he was particularly tired, breeze through the Spanish with ease. He’d never tried the language before, but after years of living nearly everywhere, language came easy to him, a survival skill. and gaining a new one was comforting.

Truthfully, he’d never imagined university, never thought he’d make it, couldn’t imagine it. When it had crossed his mind, he’d thought of somewhere farther away, but international meant paperwork and money didn’t grow on trees. But he’d needed to go. He justified it with the reasoning that he’d eventually need a job, even a low or mid-level one, and a big crowd would be easier to hide in, plus it was guaranteed housing for four years, though he planned to graduate as quickly as possible. Right now, he was sorely wishing he had consistent enough transcripts that he could have done dual enrollment and graduated in two years instead. While he was glad for some creature comforts, the thought of staying in one place for so long honestly made him nauseous. He settled for taking an enormous classload instead, and with this job, and perhaps some work on the side (using skills he’d picked up on the run… this was far enough away for word not to get back to his father’s men, right?) he could even do summer classes again like he did last year before he’d had to get as stingy with his money. He was puzzling it out, going through the logistics of it in his head when the bell chimed.

“Store closes in 30 minutes,” he said out of habit. 

There was no answer. He was tempted to look up, but he was so close to finishing his revision pamphlet that he didn’t want to break his concentration.

When it was done he sighed and glanced at his watch. ‘Still 25 minutes until closing.’ The store had gotten a delivery earlier, maybe he could play with the newest model of racquets.

A benefit of being a favourite was that the manager pretended not to notice if Neil stayed a few minutes after closeup just to feel a racquet in his hand. He’d asked him once, why he didn’t play for real. Neil said told the man he wasn’t good enough. That was probably true.

Even still, he liked it, loved it. Here, he’d gotten to “spar” with all kinds of players almost every day. Between that, early morning jogs, and making it to the school’s gym when he could, he’d managed to stay in pretty decent shape despite all the time he spent sitting at a desk. It helped that food wasn’t in abundance with the skimpy meal plan he’d chosen.

“Neil!” The sound of his name jolts Neil out of his thoughts.

“Yeah- uh, yes?”

“Need you up here for a try-out.” The manager shouted down from the top story. The store was so empty his voice carried fine. His tone was light and he was only in his early thirties, so Neil didn’t flinch.

“Coming!”

Perhaps a little too eager, Neil bounded up the steps.

The manager clapped him on the shoulder when he got to the top, saying not quietly enough, “Thoese are university athletes, the real deal. Be careful.”

Neil couldn’t make himself care, he wanted to play, even if just a few swings. “Oh, yeah, thanks. I’m locking up?”

“Sure,” he handed Neil the keys, “Have a good night, Neil.” Then he turned and added, “Study hard!”

It was sweet that he’d remembered the test Neil had mentioned off-hand yesterday. “Yes, Mr. Thompson.”

Warmed, Neil walked towards the mini court and faced the customers. He opened his mouth to give the usual spiel, but nothing came out.

He didn’t need to tell these people what to do, who was he kidding? One face stuck out, burned, like a memory, like a cigarette, like a car, like the blade of an axe in his stomach.

Kevin Day. Holding a light racquet in his right hand.

‘Fuck.’

If he hadn’t just spoken to the manager he would’ve used his English accent, but he’d been stupid, let his guard down, forgotten to observe his surroundings, and thus limited his options. ‘Dammit!’

From experience, he knew he had about five seconds to act normal before making his incredibly awkward and potential very, very dangerous. Pretend to be clueless. Random bullshit, go!

“You all ready to test out the racquet? Have you found everything alright so far?” It sounded stupid, stupidly bland in front of this audience, but what choice did he have?

Kevin just gave a stilted, “Yes, it’s fine.” He looked almost as relieved as Neil felt not to be recognised. Weird. There’s no way that was possible. His eyes darted towards the court, but he couldn’t be as eager as Neil. No way. As calmly as possible, because this is what he was good at, Neil began unlocking the court.

The member of Palmetto State’s Exy team had brought his own gear, obviously. This was only a practice round to get a feel for the new racquet, but that didn’t make the Exy balls any softer. While he put it on, Neil took advantage of his distraction to steady himself as he put on his own gear. He took a breath, reminding himself of burning rubber and bone. As if he could ever forget. Those were the stakes, he needed to tread with utmost caution or be dragged back to Baltimore to be laid out like a pig on some stolen lab table, bled then gutted. Maybe his father would be quick.

“You coming, I don’t have all day.”

Neil jumps at Kevin’s voice, so familiar, so distant. This isn’t at all like the Kevin Day whose every interview he’d watched when he could, no, this person was all rough edges, and empty.

“Yeah.”

Shaking it off as best he could (Why couldn’t he? He’d seen worse.), he grabbed his racquet, (well it belonged to the store, but for this purpose, the manager had written his name on a piece of painter’s tape and stuck it on) and headed inside.  Unlike most courts, this one locked from the inside for liability purposes.

It was strange to watch Kevin grip the racquet with his other hand like the earth had shifted its axis.

Then Kevin swung. It was gentler than Neil expected like he was testing his hand, making sure it could bear the racquet’s weight. The sight was a little sad. Kevin adjusted quickly, he wouldn’t be here if he couldn’t, and tossed the ball to Neil.

Reminding himself to focus, Neil tossed the ball robotically back. A human pitching machine, that’s what he had to be. Sure, he had a little fun showing off in front of younger customers and even casual high school players, but there was no way he could pull that on the Queen of Exy. And even if he could, Kevin didn’t need that. Neil was sure he was already feeling terrible about his skiing accident already. If Neil couldn’t himself play Exy he should be glad Kevin was at least getting a chance back on the court.

Kevin’s gaze was intense and Neil was very glad for his helmet obscuring at least part of his face.

Neil had learnt that sometimes, as much as it pained him, the best way to appear unsuspicious was to not worry at all, so he threw himself into the game. Every thought was consumed with the trajectory of the ball. How weird would it look if he blocked that? How weird would it look if he didn’t? He’d never played while so carefully calculating his every move and it was at once terrifying, painful, and brilliant. He’s not sure he ever wanted to do it again. He would be glad when Kevin left. He was supposed to ask questions while the customer tried out the racquet, but he thought it was fair to assume Kevin could judge the feel for himself, even in his other hand.

Eventually, Neil lost track of time. It could have been five or ten minutes that had passed, maybe less, maybe more. Exy always did that to him, that’s why it was so dangerous.

When he looked, really looked at Kevin’s face for the first time in a while, a frightening smile sat there, a wicked grin, pure Exy adrenaline. Neil was jealous, so jealous.

And then the fun started. Kevin’s shots became tighter, more precise, more forceful, less a try-out and more something you see in a game. Goal after goal, the red lights must have been working overtime. Neil was worried that the off-brand walls of Exites’ court wouldn’t be able to take too much of this. Should he be blocking more of the shots? He could, but… Kevin’s expression was somewhat manic, not scary, not after all Neil had seen, but overzealous for sure. 

It was instinct, self-defence almost. Everything in Neil’s body screamed not to let him lose. Every time those damned lights blinked red, it sent a prickle of anger through his chest. As Kevin’s shots increased in speed, Neil found himself matching pace or rather didn’t find himself. He was completely lost in the game.

And the ball was coming towards him once more, the strongest shot yet. Fucking brilliant. Neil jumped, just a little, it was muscle memory at this point and sent the ball flying back in the other direction. He was surprised, and yet not when it slammed into “Away-court”’s goal, exciting the red lights. He wasn’t bad but this was Kevin Day. Shit. What now? He could easily enough dismiss it as a fluke (he knew he couldn’t). As he considered it, he walked, at what he could best determine to be a reasonable pace, to retrieve the ball.

Ball now in hand, he made himself face Kevin or rather his back. 

Kevin was completely still.

The only noise Neil would swear was a chuckle, probably coming from one of the guys who had come in with Kevin. “Interesting,” one of them said, but he sounded bored.

“Sir?” It felt wrong to call him that, but what else could Neil do? “Are you alright? Is the racquet suitable? You can try another if you like.” The suggestions were hollow and miserable.

“Five minutes.” was Kevin’s only reply.

“What?”

“Five minutes. You scored on me in five minutes, closer to three if you count the way you were barely trying before. Trust me, you think I didn’t notice? Do you know who I am?”

Internally, Neil was asking the very same question.

Kevin’s words weren’t arrogant, just incredulous. 

Neil shook his head, still readying his vocal cords for more lies. Under Kevin’s stare, he realised he had to say something. “Uh, the manager said you guys were college athletes.” At last, Neil made himself look at Kevin’s three companions. Two blonds close to Neil’s height and the third, a brunet closer to Kevin’s.

“Sir, no smoking in the store.” the words fell out automatically at the sight of the cigarette after a year and a half of working here, but he wished he’d said nothing.

A hand grabs his shoulder and he’s ready to fight, his racquet is on the other side of the court, but the ball is heavy enough. 

He’s lucky Kevin still has his helmet on.

“Jeez, he’s a flighty one. Strange for what he just did to Kevi.” one of the guys whispers not quietly enough, the tall one, maybe, Neil guessed.

“I’m sorry!” The apology is acidic on his tongue, this is survival, there is no time for sorry, but he means it. 

“You’re sorry?” Kevin still looks dazed.

Time to play dumb. “Yes, of course. I don’t normally hit customers I swear, you can ask Manager Thompson. You just startled me is all.” yeah that was about as convincing as a sales proposition for the Brooklyn Bridge. Neil lived a life of lies, so why now…

Kevin rolled his eyes, looking rather like he’d forgotten he had his helmet on when he went to smack his palm to his forehead. With a slight flush, he took it off, holding it like one would a basketball against his side. Oh, well, Neil hated simpering anyway, he was relieved honestly. And if he just remembered he needed to take his own helmet off, that was no one’s business but his own.

“You really don’t know?”

Now Neil could be annoyed. It was clear from the look on Kevin’s face he didn’t suspect a thing. Maybe he could try to sell him the bridge now, but either way, he could afford some false ire now.

“No.” The word was sharp and stubborn in a way that contradicted his previous show of floundery, but it felt real on his lips. Still, there was no reason to go off on Kevin, not now, it best to stay under the radar as he always had. He shrugged, imagining taking a file to his edges, the rough grating sound resulting in something smooth, and pleasant. “No, I don’t really follow the professional stuff.” Of all the lies Neil had told in his ten and eight years, that was somehow the biggest.

Kevin actually seemed to calm down at this, “I’m a striker for Palmetto State University,” He paused after that. Of course, the words felt foreign, until recently he’d been a Raven working under the founder of Exy himself. Neil knew from experience his face would give nothing away. He was glad for that, to be honest, he was surprised Kevin hadn’t said his name, maybe he to was secretly hoping for some anonymity. Kevin cleared his throat, “the Foxes.”

Neil nodded, not sure where this was going. Did Kevin think he was dumb? Well, he hadn’t exactly given him a reason not to think so.

“Why haven’t you tried out?!” The words are sudden, an explosion of confusion, like it was the strangest thing in the world, or at least Kevin’s expression would have made anyone think so.

“What?” This time, his confusion wasn’t a lie.

“You go to Palmetto, right?”

It was then that Neil looked down at himself. Underneath his Exites uniform vest, he wore a t-shirt in Palmetto’s ostentatious orange. He lived by saving money and blending in, before now he would’ve never chosen such a colour, but in a university town he blended right in, and this was one of his newest shirts, so even the cheap rough cotton was a nice change. 

In fact, he hadn’t even looked at what it said really, it had come from some charity event and a girl with dyed rainbow tips had been so sweet when handing them out that he couldn’t say no, so he’d dropped a five into the collection box (for an orphanage, maybe?) and taken a medium and been grateful. The benefit of a huge sports university like Palmetto was there was always some event or another with free swag.

Shit. he’d taken too long to answer. “Yeah. What of it?” Was that too snappy? But why wouldn’t Levin just go already? He could have checked out two minutes ago but here he was flaunting Neil’s dream in front of him like a matador in a bullring. He couldn’t help it, of course, being Mr. Exy himself but…

“So, why haven’t you tried out for the team?”

Neil was tempted to ask, “What team?” but selfishly didn’t want Kevin’s opinion of his intellect to stoop any lower, so he said, “I’m not a sports guy.” It’s true, he was an applied mathematics major. “And my schedule is already way too full for anything else.” Also true. “I want to graduate as quickly as possible,” Painfully true. “I don’t have time for any of that useless stuff, this is just what I do for extra cash.” Three gut-wrenching truths and two, terrible, terrible lies.

The words hurt. The honesty of revealing his crunched graduation schedule and the insult of Exy. But he had to do something to get Kevin out of here before he recognised him before Neil’s dreams could settle too deep into his bones. He’d worked so hard to force them down, to scrub them out, to burn them away alongside his mother’s blood.

He heard someone suck in a sharp breath, as if bracing for something, and turned to Kevin’s group. “Sorry.” but it didn’t sound at all like he meant it.

He pushed as much boredom as he could into his tone and made sure to get a head start towards the register as he asked, “Are you ready to check out now?” 

In his periphery, Kevin still hadn’t moved. “But- but you have talent!”

“Thank you. Will you be paying in cash or credit?” The dead-pan came easily after so many years.

One of the blonds began to howl with laughter that sounded slightly inhuman. Neil ignored him, instead preparing the point-of-sales device. “Can I get a name for the transaction? If you haven’t got an account, I can start one for you, I’ll just need a mobile number or email.”

The howling got louder. What sound did foxes make, again?

“But you have to! You can’t just sit on talent like that!”

“Oh sure you can. I do.” the blond chimed in through his laughter. The reassurance would have been nice if the laughter and arrogance weren’t a bit unsettling.

“Not. Fucking. Now, Minyard. I’ll deal with you later.” Kevin’s voice was a growl, but he didn’t even look at the blond. 

Minyard, or rather Minyards, plural. The twins: 05 and 03. Andrew or Aaron, Neil wondered vaguely. Who was he kidding? It had to be Andrew. His behaviour was the reason the Foxes got so much coverage last year. Neil knows he shouldn’t look at the brunette (who must be Nicky Hemmick), if he looks he’ll only be drawn into this conversation.

“Can you bring me the racquet, I don’t have the product ID memorised so I’ll have to scan the sticker,” Neil asked innocently, holding his hand out to Kevin who’d finally come off the court.

“Well, give him the damn racquet, Day, since he asked so nicely.” Andrew was laughing again, or still.

Kevin did. Neil was surprised. But when he got to the register he reached over the counter and grabbed an old recite and a pen and started scribbling before Neil could stop him. 

“Here.” he shoved the paper towards Neil, “the dates and locations for the try-out. I’ll confirm it with the coach tonight.”

What? Wh- 

Neil begged himself not to agree right then and there. Oh, he needed a cigarette, just to remind him, to remind him why he-

He let the paper fall hen pushed it cooly back across the counter, “That’s very generous of you, but no thank you.”

Kevin pressed on, sounding distressed now. “Why?”

“I already told you my reasons. Now may I get a name for the transaction, or an account number if you have one? I’d be happy to start one if you don’t, but keep in mind we’re about to close. Unless you’re out of here with this by nine pm, you’ll have to come back tomorrow, I don’t care who you are, that’s the manager’s rule, not mine.” He crossed his arms, suddenly feeling childish. But, it was necessary, saying yes would feel so good, too good, and would only get him dragged back to the very man he’d be trying to escape for so long. “And I’ve got homework.” He added, a bit petulantly.

Kevin opened his mouth again but was stopped when the brunette stepped up, placing a hand right over his face and smoothly taking the racquet. He placed the racquet across the counter with a curtsy that seemed more than a little sarcastic, “I’m so sorry about him, he was born with a racquet up his ass. The account should be under Wymack, that’s W-Y-M-A-C-K, first name David and we’ll be using credit.” When Neil finished entering the racquet’s information, he looked between the two men, before deciding it would be faster to give the form to the brunet.

The brunette gave him a smile that seemed just a bit too friendly and began to fill the form with a bright orange pen he’d pulled from behind his ear. He frowned when Neil didn’t seem impressed with the trick. It was only because his mother had spilt all the secrets of sleight of hand to him years ago. 

Thankfully the brunette was quick, when the information regarding colour and design was entered, Neil gave him the thumbs up. “Thanks. I assume that will be all. May I get a name for the order or just Wymack?”

And damn if it wasn’t just a little satisfying to see a look of surprise cross Kevin’s face. Neil had told him he didn’t know, but he guessed it hadn’t quite sunk in.

“Day, Kevin.” the brunet supplied, placing his hand back over Kevin’s face and pushing him away, back towards the blonds. Thank goodness. Maybe he could go to a game, just once, just to cheer this guy on. He could bring a big sign saying “Thanks for saving my life!” yeah, no.

Meanwhile, Andrew still had the look on his face like all of this was the funniest thing in the whole wide world.

“Okay. The other two should be here in a week, would you like a box or bag for this one?”

“Nah, save the turtles and all, thanks though.”

Neil almost laughed at that, almost. Thankfully he kept it in, or Kevin might have started talking again. And, it was almost nine. He really did have homework.

The group left as loudly as they came, all making fun of Kevin. And when they were clearly out of earshot, Neil laughed harder than he had in as long as he could remember, and when the laughter became coughing and then the acrid remains of tears he could no longer cry, he locked up and went back to the dorms.

He was alone on the bus, which was good. At night the drivers drove faster than they probably should, so he made a great time, and the jolt of every pothole kept him from thinking, imagining where he might be if he’d taken that paper. The group had left it there. He’d wanted to throw it away, so desperate, but like the miserable bastard he was, he pocketed it, just so later, when his luck inevitably ran out and he was being dragged towards a painful death he could remind himself that Kevin Day had wanted him, even if it wasn’t really him.

Thumbing the paper in the pocket of his ratty jeans as he climbed the steps to his dorm made him realise he had less dignity than Kevin. Of course, he did, he’d killed men. And he would have begged the exact same way if he’d been in Kevin’s place, everything and anything for the game. It wasn’t even a question.

At midnight, there was a knock on his door. His roommate didn’t stir, of course not, it was Friday night, so the man was probably near black-out drunk. In fact, Neil was surprised he came back so early. A power nap before hitting the club in an hour or two maybe? This must be his friends coming to collect him. 

Eye-roll at the ready, Neil opened the door. It wasn’t his roommate’s friends. Neil rolled his eyes anyway.

“Why are you here?” was pointless.

“You found my room number? Stalker. Leave or I’m calling campus police.”

“No, you won’t.” the blond from earlier, Andrew stepped out from behind Kevin. Neil hadn’t noticed him, he was so short.

“And why not?” Neil was already shutting the door.

Andrew jammed a racquet against the frame, preventing it from closing all the way. “Because you don’t want shit to do with pigs, I can tell.”

“Campus police hardly count.”

“No, they’ve got the real deal now, after Kevin’s transfer and all.”

Right, of course. Raven’s fans hadn’t been happy about the ordeal, nor had they been kind and they weren’t subtle about either. He’d heard rumours of the vandalism whispered in the corridors.

Dammit, why did this guy know exactly what to say? Did- Did Kevin recognise him? Was he sitting in the car thinking, and he made the connection? Did Kevin bring Andrew here as muscle to knock him out? He hadn’t seesaw hat care they were driving, but it must have been roomy to fit the four of them. They’d probably already called his father-

There was a fire escape just across the room behind him. Neil bolted. For once, he was too slow. Andrew shoved the racquet through the door, opening it wide and sending Neil sprawling. He lay, frozen on the floor, awaiting doom.

He grit his teeth, “I won’t go.”

Confusingly, Andrew stepped away, back towards the door, and took a place by Kevin in the doorway. As he went he sighed theatrically. “Jesus, fucking Christ, Josten -yeah we got your name from the lady too- what the hell did stickball do to —Fuck you! Not you- no, no, actually you too.” Andrew bent over clutching his ribs.

Kevin had taken the racquet and shoved it into Andrew’s side to shut him up. Neil squirmed upright in time to see the glint of a knife at Kevin’s throat.

“I have ears, fuckwad.”

“And yet you never use them.”

The blade moved upwards, “Would you like to never use yours again?”

Kevin glared, but Neil guessed that there was some understanding between them he wasn’t seeing because he shoved Andrew away like he wasn’t about to get the double Van Goh. No ears, one hand, they’d have to call him Number One then.

He walked towards Neil. Neil tensed. Fuck Exites’ metal detectors because no he had no weapon.

But Kevin just said, “Please.”

Please?

Oh yes, please go back to your father and get chopped up, just for me. Pretty please with a cherry on top. 

“Go fuck yourself.” Neil Josten wouldn’t have said that, and wouldn’t have started a confrontation, but if he was going back to Baltimore, he wasn’t going back without a fight.

Kevin groaned. “Great there’s two of you.”

What? Was he seeing double? Was he drunk?

“Andrew’s just like this you know, join and maybe you can find a friend.” Kevin turned to Andrew for backup. Andrew didn’t even acknowledge him, didn’t want to grace the plea with an answer.

“What?”

“Play Exy for the Foxes You have to,”

Neil tried to say he didn’t have to do a single damned thing for anyone, tried to ask what this had to do with anything. Was this some sort of deal with his father? Do well here then make him money playing Pro-Exy and Neil could live in peace? But Kevin didn’t let him get a word in.

“I can’t watch your talent go to waste like this. It hurts! Don’t you know what you could be? Don’t you want it? You should. You should want it like air to breathe. You could be Court for god’s sake!-” 

This went on for so long, that Neil stopped listening (he couldn’t, it hurt too much, it felt too good) and instead wondered if his roommate wasn’t really dead. Then he, Kevin Day, actually dropped to his knees and begged. Granted, Neil was still on the floor, but…

When Kevin finally took a breath, cursing that athletic stamina, Neil stood up. It was so quick he was a bit dizzy, and the room was lit up with spots for a moment. He regained his bearings quickly though when Kevin grabbed his legs, reminding him of his original purpose.

“Holy shit jackass, can you pretend to have some dignity??”

Kevin had no answer but, “I think he really wants you to play Exy with him.” Neil turned his head so fast it hurt. He’d forgotten Andrew was there. But he was, very, there, casually turning a lit lighter in his hands barely illuminating his cocked eyebrow and twisted grin.

It went against everything he lived by, it was everything he lived for. It was everything he’d given up long ago, it was everything he could still be. It would get Kevin to shut up.

But what really sold him… “Join. See how long you can keep his attention. You won’t have to stay long. I’ll be done with you by spring, but maybe he’ll keep you around till summer.” And Andrew stepped forward, yanked Kevin up and turned to go, “You still have our paper, don’t you?” The question dripped with faux pity.

Neil was at The Foxhole Court at 4:30 am the next morning.

(A/N: This was supposed to be a crack, but it got kind of internal dialogue-heavy. I’m sorry. Also, it is a bit longer than I intended because I suck at one-shots. The ending got tricky because I wasn’t too inspired on what to write for the actual dialogue bits of Kevin’s pleas and I didn’t want to rehash too much of Neil’s thought process against joining since we already know that so if it sounds weird that's why. I kinda feel like everyone was a bit out of character but this is only my second AFTG fic so… idk.)

[oh2z]

roommates. a jebe series

part pre one two three

summary: moving in with your (really attractive) uni friends..nothing too crazy can happen, right?

contents: plenty of suggestive/sexual content ! mdni read and tune in at your own discretion !!

word count: 2.1k (yay^^)

it was your fourth year of uni and you just transferred schools after a little incident happened last year that forced you to move. it was like a fresh start-- except you still had to go to class. (lol no shit)

you were angrily storming toward your first class of the day since you had already taken this class but of course, the credits didn't transfer so you had to retake it. huge waste of time.

you sat down in the closest desk to the door and tossed your bag on top of it, leaning back against the chair and crossing your arms in annoyance. you felt some eyes on you so you glanced over and caught a boy looking at your curiously. you normally would have snapped at him for staring, but he was pretty hot-- his messy brown hair fell over his forehead in his cute, slightly overgrown bowl cut and smiley eyes contrasted nicely with the sharp cut of his jaw and his large hands. you slid your eyes over him top to bottom, letting them linger on the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders. you looked back up at his face to meet his gaze and his eyes widened briefly before he looked away quickly, a little blush creeping onto his cheeks. you turn to front wordlessly, looking away from his with a small smirk on your face.

you had shown up to class hoping that this professor didn't have a strict attendance policy, and to your luck, he does. fuck. you rolled your eyes as your classmates passed the sign-in sheet around, and zoned out for the rest of class.

when the class was over you grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder and headed for the door. you had forgot to get coffee beforehand, so you decided to head to the nearest cafe. you felt like someone was following you as you headed down the sidewalk and you threw a glance over your shoulder to see that same guy from class a few steps behind you. his big eyes widened when you looked at him and he looked away from you but you narrowed your eyes and stopped walking, waiting for him to catch up.

he looked like he was panicking, not sure if he should stop or pass you. "you following me?" you asked, tilting your head.

"no! i just... wanted to go get coffee before my next class," he said quickly.

you hesitated a moment, suddenly feeling silly for being on the offensive. "oh. i was going to get coffee too..i'mm kinda new to town and i get anxious in unfamiliar places-- should we have coffee together?" you offered. he blinked in surprise.

"oh! yeah okay sure!" the two of your began walking again, next to each other this time, and headed toward the coffee shop. you each brought your own drink and then you sat down together at a small table. you couldn't help but judge him a little for getting a fancy blended sweet coffee drink, while you had a black iced americano.

"so are you a music production major too?" he asked, sipping his drink.

"no, i'm taking this class as an elective. i'm kind of annoyed actually-- i already took it but the credits didn't transfer. i mean it'll be easy now, but it's still a bit annoying," you complained.

"oh. that sucks." he replied, frowning. you shrugged.

"it's whatever. you know what would make it better though?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"what?" he asked, sipping from his straw and blinking at you innocently.

"if you would write my name on the sign-in sheet for me if i'm ever not there," you replied sweetly.

"we're not supposed to do that though..."

you pouted, looking at him through your lashes and slipping a hand up to toy with the neckline of your shirt. "oh...i guess you're right. thanks anyway."

"i mean-" he said quickly. "it's just that i would have to know what your name was first before i could write it."

you smirked, then pulled out a small piece of paper and wrote down your full name, jotting your phone number under it. then you stood up and handed it to him. he read your name and then looked up at you when he noticed your number. he tilted his head as he read it again.

"your name is--"

"don't call me that," you cut, pointing at the paper. "i go by y/n."

"okay! y/n it is" he said quickly, his cheeks going pink. you had to stop yourself from continuing the conversation-- you were going to be late to your next class. and so you tore your attention away from him somewhat begrudgingly.

"text me your name," you said as you turned away, flashing him a smile over your shoulder as you left the shop. he watched you go with his lips parted slightly in shock and then quickly pulled out his phone, typing your number in and shooting you a text right away.

unknown: hi :0

me: who is this?

unknown: oh sorry lol

unknown: i was supposed to text u my name

unknown: it's taerae!

me: cool :)

you saved his number and then silenced your phone, not really caring if he had said something else after that at the moment. you shoved your hands in your pockets and headed to your next class.

--

you were sitting in the coffee shop working on an assignment from another class when your phone went off.

taerae: hey u comin to class?

you frowned at your phone. who the hell is taerae? you thought. you glanced at the clock, remembering which class your were skipping. oh! music production boy! a smile crept to your face at the thought of him again.

me: no i can't make it today

taerae: did you want me to sign the paper for you?

me: yes please!

you set your phone down and went back to work. about an hour later you felt someone standing over you and you pulled you headphones off and looked up. there was the boy from that class. you blinked at him.

"yes?" you asked. he sat down, sipping his fancy coffee and frowning his cute, pink lips pouting around his straw.

"you said you couldn't make it to class. i thought you were sick or something," he mumbled.

"yeah...what i meant was...i'm not going back to that class. it's a waste of my time." you mumbled back, returning your gaze to your laptop.

"oh. well...the professor assigned homework." he said, looking at you.

you groaned. "ugh, seriously?" you complained as he opened his backpack and pulled out his notes. he took a picture of where he had written down the assignment and set it to you.

"here you go " he said with a little smile.

"y/n-ie" you replied absentmindedly as you opened your phone to check the picture. he perked up a bit at the thought of calling you in a cuter way.

"i can call you y/n-ie?" he asked cutely. you looked up from your phone at him, unable to keep yourself from smiling a little at his happy face.

"hm? oh yeah. you're my music production class buddy, of course you can" you said. he grinned back.

"okay! well um...i'll see you later y/n-ie"

-

you were lying on your bed at home, tuning out the sound of your roommate slamming doors by cranking up the volume on your headphones. you had just finished up the assignment for your music prod. class and you sighed, thinking you had better go to class and hand it in the next day. unless...

me: hey

taerae: hi y/n-ie!!

me: can we meet up before class tmr? wanna see u :3

taerae: ofc just lmk!!

you were so tired and your roommate was really stressing you out. your really hated this apartment, but it had been the only thing available when you moved to town. you sighed and went to bed.

--

you sat at the cafe sipping your coffee and staring at your laptop, feeling stressed about your course load and your living arrangement. you had no way to get your stresses out these days, considering you knew no one in town and that your favorite stress relief activities were best done...with others.

you eyes slide to the door when taerae came into the shop, accompanied with another boy today. he was the same height as taerae, and something about his perfect skin, messy blonde hair, and sleeper-built body screamed daddy. the smiley brunette boy made you feel dominant, but his handsome friend made you feel small and as the two of them approached you, you shook your head against the warring sides of yourself, trying not to get overwhelmed.

they were talking as they came in and taerae seemed to look at his friend in awe, hanging on every word out of the man's mouth. taerae said something that made the other laugh and it took up his whole face. his huge smile make his eyes scrunch and flush appear in his round cheeks. it was nice to look at, and it seemed contagious as taerae smiled as well. he gave you a little wave and his friend glanced at your curiously before they got drinks. once they both had coffee-- taerae with his usual fancy one and his friend with a plain cup, they came to your table.

"hi y/n-ie! why did you want to meet?" taerae asked cheerily, sitting down next to you. his friend took the seat across from you and you couldn't help but glance at him only to find his dark eyes on your as well. something about the man's cutting gaze made you shy and you looked away quickly. digging in your backpack to avoid looking at him.

"i...wanted to give you this," you said. pulling out your assignment and handing it to taerae.

he looked at it for a second and then undersood. "oh, you want me to hand it in for you?" he seemed like he wasn't thrilled about the idea, so you turned your full attention to him, slipping your hand casually onto the table and placing your fingers lightly over his. he looked up at your in surprise at the tough, and you blinked your eyes at him quickly.

"please?" you asked him sweetly, letting your lips pout into a tiny frown as you did so. he swallowed and looked away.

"y-yeah sure," he murmured, a tiny blush on his soft cheeks as he took the assignment from you and tucked it into his notebook. your eyes glanced to his friend again and you caught him smirking and looking slightly impressed at your actions as you slowly retracted your hand from taerae's, trying to keep yourself from blushing under his gaze.

"thank you" you said, smiling.

"of course y/n-ie"

-

after class, you were still at the cafe, scrolling through your phone and ignoring the paper you were attempting to write. taerae shuffled back into the shop, looking annoyed.

"hey," you greeted him, setting your phone down. "what's up?"

"the professor assigned more work today. and i don't think i did the first one right anyway. i'm not getting this class," he mumbled, pouting.

"let me see." he passed you the notes and you pursed your lips. "i guess i could help." i remember this from last semester."

he perked up. "really?? do you want to come over and go over it with me this evening?"

he was cute. you smiled to yourself. "yeah, sure bub" you said.

he blinked at the affectionate name and then looked down shyl. he suddenly seemed to remember something. "oh yeah- um. i have six roommates so. sometimes my house is a little loud," he told you, cringing.

"well i live in a tiny apartment on campus and my roommate is literally crazy. so whatever you've got can't be that bad." you looked at him for a moment, remembering how flustered his friend had made you earlier. "hey that guy from this afternoon...."

"oh matthew? he's one of my roommates! he said you were cute when we left," he said wiggling his eyebrows at you. you felt yourself blush immediately and taerae burst into giggles at the sight. then he frowned, "i think you're cute too," he pouted.

you scoffed, your blush immediately fading. "you don't get to call me cute, you're the cute one" you told him, winking. now it was his turn to blush.

"w-wait you think i'm cute?" he asked, his eyes wide.

adorable, you thought. "whatever. text me your address." you said, right before trying to refocus on whatever you were just working on.

[wwry2018]

Curse of Yes/No

My name was Jace, I was 26 living in the suburbs of Sydney, it was getting close to the end of my year at uni and my girlfriend Sherry wanted me to go out and have some fun. She slid over a flyer for a local festival. A Halloween festival.

We don’t really celebrate Halloween in Australia. But as time has gone on it seems to be more and more present. Decorations being available to buy in stores, kids talking about trick or treating and festivals and street markets advertising Halloween themes.

My friends wanted me to go to one that was on tonight in town. It promised Fall themed food, spooky rides and classic Halloween fun. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to go or not. Usually I let others decide for me. And it was hot as hell. Fall themed food wasn’t what I was looking for when it was 35 degrees c in the shade. But as I said I wasn’t big on making decisions. 

So my best mate Ricky said he would pick me up at 8pm and we would go and have a look. Sherry was working late and said it would be good for me to get out and try to relax. Being a third year accounting student it didn’t come easy. She said go relax just don’t let Ricky get you drunk.

He picked me up at 8 as he said and I climbed in his car, “Jesus man, for a doctor you don’t exactly promote healthy lifestyle  do you?” Smoke was billowing out of he car “it’s my one vice, I know it’s not healthy but hey I’m addicted and I enjoy it” “is that your professional opinion?’ ‘Shut the fuck up and let’s go” we drove towards the fete.

He picked me up at 8 as he said and I climbed in his car, “Jesus man, for a doctor you don’t exactly promote healthy lifestyle  do you?” Smoke was billowing out of he car “it’s my one vice, I know it’s not healthy but hey I’m addicted and I enjoy it” “is that your professional opinion?’ ‘Shut the fuck up and let’s go” we drove towards the fete.

As we walk into the festival it has this classic spooky horror theme of a gypsy caravan.. There are rides and haunted mansions to walk through but mostly it’s to theme. Ricky spots a fortune teller carriage at the end of a line. ‘Perfect” he says. ‘This is what you need. Go get your answers as you can never decide for yourself’. I um’d and ah’d if I should do it or not. Ricky just said ‘exactly” he put $50 in my hand and pushed me in the tent yelling”I’m going to hit on the hot carnie, have fun”

I tumbled inside and looked around seeing a man lounging in a chair having a drink. ‘I’m so sorry’ I said gathering myself.

‘My Friend was being pushy, literally and wanted me to have my fortune read, but I don’t know if I should or not. It’s not a very me thing to do, I mean it sounds like fun and all but, you’re here I don’t see an old crone and a crystal ball anywhere. Haha ‘

Old crone and crystal ball. Well that’s not a very nice stereotype!’ The man said. ‘ but I wouldn’t expect a ginger accountant named Jace to come for a reading in Australian either, so I guess we are even.’

‘How do you know my name? ‘ I said in shock and backing towards the door.

‘We are not all old crones or female, that was just to show you I’m the real deal. Com now sit. Ricky has paid for your thirty minutes, let’s not waste this.’ He says as he walks behind me and guides me to a chair across from him. ‘Hold out your hand, palm up’ I do so in shock and almost trance, I’ve never been a big believer but I always believe  in what I experienced.

He looks at my palm only briefly and starts to speak. ‘ you are not on the right path’. I snap out of it. ‘Really ?” ‘I thought accounting was the right fit.’  

‘Nothing is right’ accounting, your clothes, Sherry. All wrong, because all were not your choice. You simply let others decide for you, so now you are on the wrong path. Ricky. Ricky is the one right thing in your life. He will be the one to correct it. Trust in Ricky. Ironically it will take someone else to tell you what to do to make you get on the right path and choose your destiny’

As I snatch my hand away I get upset ‘what do you mean, all is wrong with me. Who says that to a person. And I love Sherry, I’m going to marry her,…. I think’ ‘I don’t know who you are or how you know these things but it’s wrong.’

As I go to storm to the exit I feel like I’m in a tumble dryer the world spins on its axis. I look back and the Gypsy  is muttering and then spits at me. ‘ I give you a Curse! Not to hurt but help’ as I steady myself he walks towards me. ‘Use this to your advantage, not all curse’s can be detrimental. Until the clock strikes 12. Any question that is asked of a Yes. Or. A No. the opposite will be a reality. It has the power to rearrange you future your past. So be wise young Jace. And remember my words Ricky is the one to put you on a try path. Go now

I stumbled out of the carriage dazed wondering what had just happened. I looked at my watch. It was 9:15 pm. Sherry would be here soon and we can go home. I wasn’t looking and a bumped into a guy. “ watch where you’re going mate!” He yelled. “ hey do you smoke? Can I bum one?” 

As I went  to say no it was as if time slowed down and rewound very quickly to the day in the 8th grade when Tommy Doyle asked me to meet him behind the sheds at school to try smoking, he stole a pack from his dad. I had said no, but in this flash I has said yes. I joined Tommy, I had memory flood through my brain of school and uni and clubs always smoking, my friends were a little bit different to,, Ricky was there of course but they all didn’t seem so straight laced, my clothes seemed to feel looser, darker a little more edgier, I felt slightly more confident and strangely fitter, felt my arm tingle as a tattoo appeared as the spin came back to reality.

‘Yeah sure man”  I think passed him the packet and lit the lighter from my pocket, “ sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going”

 ‘No problem” as the guy walked away I looked back and the gypsy was standing in the door way, laughing.

Something didn’t seem right, I turned to to go taking an another deep inhale on my smoke. I needed to find Ricky and get home to Sherry.

This is the first of a few chapters, let me know if I should continue.

[allwaswell16]

Part two of a fic rec of One Direction fics that have touch deprivation in them as requested in this ask. You can find part one here! If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

—Louis/Harry—

✦ Light, Spark and Fire (series) by green_feelings / @greenfeelings*

(E, 239k, music industry) Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

✦ The Longer the Waiting the Sweeter the Kiss (It's Better My Darlin' I Promise You This) by pleasinglouis

(E, 160k, small town au) Louis is a big city omega that can't stand stubborn alphas and Harry is the southern cowboy that hates the city

✦ Invisible String by BoosBabycakes / @boosbabycakes28

(E, 84k, pack dynamics) Louis swears on his life that that man came out of literal nowhere and he thanks each lucky star for having good breaks in his car.

✦ Your Gift is Wasted On Me by therogueskimo / @bravetemptation

(NR, 54k, neighbors) Omega Louis has severe touch deprivation and is averse to touch. But he’s fine. Really.

✦ You're Not My Type (still I fall) by Imogenlee / @imogenleewriter*

(NR, 38k, farm) Harry is only twenty-four and has no inclination to settle down at all, especially not at the behest of an Alpha.

✦ Follow Your Arrow by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 36k, canon) They said Louis playing alpha wouldn’t affect anything.

✦ Too Young To Know by @2tiedships2

(M, 35k, exes to lovers) the one where Harry doesn’t present as an alpha… until he does.

✦ Compass to my Soul by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 31k, canon) Louis Tomlinson, omega, is 1/5 of world famous boy band One Direction. He spends his time hoping his bandmates don’t notice him.

✦ never been a fan of change, but we’re still the same by fearsparks / @onlythebravest *

(T, 27k, uni au) after Harry's omega unexpectedly causes him to drop in the pub, their relationship is no longer the same.

✦ tread lightly on my ground by fairytalelights / @lookslikefairytale*

(E, 20k, mpreg) the one where Harry is having Louis' baby, but Louis doesn't know it's his.

✦ Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche *

(T, 18k, uni au) Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

✦ how do I stay tender by jessicamcqueen

(E, 16k, neighbors) Louis has touch depri and Harry is the alpha neighbor that offers to help.

✦ Captain Cupid by @2tiedships2

(NR, 15k, friends to lovers) the one where Niall enlists his friends to help start a speed dating side hustle. Things don't go as planned... or maybe they do?

✦ Breathe me in, breathe me out by @lunarheslwt

(G, 14k, candle shop) Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri.

✦ A Fateful Snow by @parmahamlarrie *

(T, 13k, Christmas) Will Harry allow a simple misunderstanding keep him from the hottest alpha he’s ever seen? 

✦ Get Nesting & Soft Knots by ishiplouis / @pocketsunshineharry

(G, 5k, youtube au) AU where Omega Louis who runs a nesting materials Youtube channel meets Alpha Harry who knits his own blankets

✦ Perfect, For Now by @parmahamlarrie *

(T, 5k, neighbors) Moving to a new city is always hard, being away from home, finding your new community - none of it is easy. Dealing with all of this while being touch deprived is even more difficult.

—Rare Pairs—

✦ (I Was Broke) You Healed Me by @fallinglikethis

(T, 12k, Niall/Harry) Niall Horan is an unmated pregnant omega living on his own after his alpha boyfriend leaves him. 

✦ a little tenderness by @disgruntledkittenface

(NR, 10k, Harry/Niall) Harry’s never been around an omega in depri as bad off as Niall looks; most of the time, there’s an alpha friend or family member who can help out with scenting and physical contact.

[fairyhaos]

❍ the 2k event: dino + swingset

alternative title: stupid adorable grin

pairing: chan x gn!reader

genre: non-idol au, uni au, friends to lovers

word count: 1435

warnings: none

event taglist: @slytherinshua @rubywonu @pepperonijem @amxlia-stars @weird-bookworm @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8 @graybaeismytae @karionice @hopetiger10 @shuabby1994 (also @leejungchans pspspsps)

It's been so long since you've last seen your best friend. 

You still live in the same area, but college pulled you apart, with you both travelling and having to dorm in different universities away from your home town, and it's broken your heart to be so far from him for so long. 

So now, now you're finally on summer break, and the only thing you want to do is see his face break into that stupid grin whenever he sees you once again. 

"Chan! Lee Chan! Turn around, you brat, I'm right here!" 

Chan turns around in circles, phone up to his ear, looking for you confusedly. And then he spots you, running down the street towards him, and his face lights up in that stupid, stupid, adorable beam that makes you smile even wider and run faster until you fall into his arms, open and ready to catch you. 

He spins you around in his arms, and wow when did he get strong enough to do that? Your phone is dangling in your hand, the call still connected to his number because you'd been too busy to disconnect, and all you can do is hug him tighter and yelp and laugh as your feet leave the floor. 

"Oh my god," you breathe once he sets you down, not giving him a chance to talk. "Oh my god, I missed you so much."

"You missed me?" Chan says in disbelief. "Y/N, there's no way you missed me more than I missed you."

"What?" You cross your arms, frowning. "Never! I bet I missed you more."

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

You frown at each other, matching expressions of annoyance on your faces, before eventually cracking, laughing and falling instantly into one another in a hug again. 

"It feels like it's been forever since I've last seen you," Chan says, and that smile is still on his face, that bright, loving smile that makes your heart feel like it's going to burst. "You have to tell me everything that's happened since I last saw you."

"What, everything?" you say teasingly as he pushes open the playground gate, gesturing for you to walk in first. "Chan, I'm pretty sure I told you everything there is to know during our weekly facetimes."

He just laughs. "Well, I want to hear it again. In person, this time," he adds. "I like hearing you talk."

And, well, who are you to refuse? 

The playground has been a sort of… cornerstone of your friendship, for you two. It was where you first met. It was where your friendship almost fell apart. It was where you met up, again and again, where you came to spend time away from the rest of the world, together or by yourselves. 

It was also where you realised you were in love with your best friend. 

The realisation had hit you, years ago, while chatting on the very same swingset the two of you were sitting on right now. It had shocked you, then, but only for a little while before the shock had faded away. Loving Chan was easy, as easy as breathing. Loving Chan was as obvious and inexplicable as the spark of light that fizzled in your chest. 

"—almost died in her exam, but I did it anyway," you finish proudly. Chan watches you the entire time, that grin having never left his face, eyes wide as he listens to you intently. 

"Oh, well done," he says, and claps dramatically. You bow your head regally, accepting his applause, and the two of you laugh. "And I expect you did really well on it as well."

You wince. "Okay, since I basically crammed in the two days before the exam and was all loaded up on way too much caffeine, I did… not that well," you say. "But I finished the exam! And I passed! Without killing myself! So I think, all in all, I did really well."

Chan laughs, eyes crinkled, smile big and beaming. "Well, in my eyes, I think you did the best out of the entire world." He ruffles your hair, voice going high-pitched in teasing. "My wonderful Y/N! You did so well, my cutie baby, you deserve all the praise!"

You brush his hand off, pretending to bite his fingers, and Chan just chuckles again. "Yeah, yeah, don't patronise me."

"No, but really," Chan says, laughter dying off, "I know how much you despised that professor. Props to you for getting through her classes. You did really well, I mean it."

His tone is so genuine, so sincere, and all he's doing is telling you something your friends back at uni have been telling you too, but it just feels so much more coming from him. 

Especially when he's looking at you like you were the one to hung all the stars in the universe. 

You duck your head, making a pfft-ing sound. "Oh, it's nothing. That old cow is just no match for the great and wise Y/N, you know?" you say, intending to elicit a laugh from Chan. 

But he just smiles, tilting his head, and now he's looking at you like you're one of the brightest stars in the universe. 

Damn this man and your stupid crush on him. 

And then he tweaks your nose so hard that you squeak. 

"Hey! What was that for?"

"My congratulations," Chan says, eyes wide in faux-innocence. "I was congratulating you!"

You eye him annoyedly, rubbing your nose. "Uh huh." You hold onto the chains of your swing, swaying backwards and forwards. "Anyway, that's all that's been happening on my end since we last spoke. How about you? Anything interesting happen that you haven't told me about through our numerous calls?"

Chan's smile turns a little secretive at that, something soft and mildly mischievous. "Maybe."

Your eyes widen. "Oh? Tell me, tell me!"

"Well," Chan begins, and he looks up at the sky thoughtfully. "I kind of realised that I…like someone."

And instantly your heart is swooping down towards the ground, crash-landing in a heap on the tarmac floor of the playground. "Really?"

"In fact, I think I'm in love with them," Chan continues, and now your heart is trying to burrow down through the ground into the centre of the earth. "I think I've been in love with them for a while. They're just so, so, sweet, so lively and bright and they make my days so much better." He laughs, tugging at his lips. "I just know that I get the stupidest, biggest grin on my face every time I see them."

"That's… nice," you choke out. Your heart has given up burrowing all the way to the centre of the earth and is just lying in a pathetic heap in the shallow hole it managed to dig. Maybe it can be its grave. "Do I know them?"

"Oh yeah!" Chan grins. "You know them really well!"

Well. Who else has Chan been talking to that you know really well?

You swallow. "Who… is it?"

Chan turns to face you now, and he has that stupidly adorable grin on his face, his expression lit up like a thousand suns, and there's so much love and gentleness in his expression that your heart perks up, thinking maybe, maybe, maybe… 

"It's you," he says, and your heart is soaring again like it hadn't dug its own grave a few seconds prior. "I like you, Y/N."

You blink, astounded, and your heart is chirruping happily and your head is spinning and oh God, Chan likes you. 

You're so at a loss for words that you don't say anything for several seconds, and Chan's grin falters. 

"Y/N? Sorry, that was probably really sudden to spring on you. Oh, no, do you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? Sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll take it back—"

And then you're launching yourself at him, in a clash of metal chains and knees and elbows, hugging him with all your might. 

"Don't you dare take it back," you warn, and he laughs, adjusting you so you're more comfortable in his arms, hands securely wrapped around your back. 

"Does this mean you like me too?" he asks, wow, wow you still can't believe he likes you. 

"Of course, you dumbass," you say, hugging him tighter.

He laughs, and it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard. And then, after a moment: "Y/N, you gotta say it back."

"Say what back?"

"Say you like me too!"

"Oh. Me too."

"No, say it properly."

"Fine, fine. I like you too."

[thestargazerlily]

Did I just... rewrite Life Is Strange: Double Exposure? Not completely, obviously, but after watching game plays and reviews on the game I was just so unhappy that I had to put my thoughts down and it escalated a bit. This is really long (over 5000 words), but I remember watching the trailer for the first time and having such different expectations and such a different story in mind that I felt so disappointed when seeing what the game was actually about. This is a rant-turned-sorta-rewrite... so enjoy!

Quick disclaimer, these are just my ideas and opinions – if you enjoyed the game as it is, that's great <3

Okay look. There's dozens of people on YouTube and whatnot who've already laid out why Life Is Strange: Double Exposure feels lacking. The decisions made have no lasting effect and most times two decisions have the same outcome, even the “major” ones. The police officer/detective Alderman, who could've made for an interesting villain or at least an antagonistic force, dies either way and is then brushed off and forgotten. I remember somebody mentioned that those major decisions are also phrased in a way that pushes the player towards one, for example one time the two options on screen aren’t “Accept” and “Decline” but vice versa.

The dialogue feels off, the relationships are shallow and not developed, and the promoted murder mystery surrounding Safi gets abandoned for a cheap marvel-we're-all-superheros storyline. What I'm also missing is the atmosphere and the world-building. A comparison to the original is inevitable, so lets remember how much we could explore of the world of Arcadia Bay: Blackwell Academy with all the classrooms and the two outdoor spaces, the dorms, the junkyard, the swimming pool, the diner, Chloe's house, Jefferson's bunker... we were able to actually get to know the world and its people which are at the final moment put at risk. In the new game, Max runs around the abandoned bowling hall, the snowy campus, the bar and her house... and that's it. It lacks so much in places that when she is caught in her timelines shifting alternative nightmare reality, they used a motel she once stayed in off-screen. Honestly, at first I thought it was from LIS2.

It never feels like Max is actually part of this world. I so wish the game would've started out with Max actually teaching a class instead of just mentioning on the sidelines Oh yeah, she's a teacher now. It would've been a reasonable nod to the start of the original game and to show how far Max has come, how her art style has developed, the differences (and maybe similarities) to Jefferson's teaching. Have a callback to her selfie moment because one of her students takes one. When Max is done with her class, she could explore (a part) of the college/classrooms and then pick up Safi from one of her classes; maybe we even briefly meet Moses. Just so it's established from the getgo that they are part of the staff and not students/set a clear boundary, because that line is SO unclear in the current game. Sometimes the students address Max as “Ms. Caulfield” other times just as “Max” like they are friends and that's just weird to me. (I never went to college or uni, but I doubt it's normal to just address your teacher or professor with their first name, right?)

So, Max picks up Safi and they drive to the outskirts of town to that abandoned bowling alley. That way, we can see some parts of the town Max chose to stay at (plus some nice music)! Also, let us start on a parking lot outside, not directly inside.

But wait, you might say, what about Chloe? What about the endings of LIS1? Well, this came to me surprisingly easy when I thought a bit about the concept for Double Exposure, which is: timelines. Max no longer jumps back in time or through photos, but she discovers she can switch back and forth between two realities. The “real world” splits when Safi gets shot. So, to answer the question: How cool would the new Life Is Strange game have been if the players can start out in two possible realities depending on their choice of the first game? One reality similar to the one in the current game (storm was prevented, Arcadia Bay survives, Chloe isn’t there – because let’s be honest, the new game never intended to serve as a follow-up to the reality where Chloe lives) and then an opposite one. Instead of the two timelines being created through Safi's death, her death is what causes something to open between the worlds.

I understand bringing Chloe back would be too difficult but then you could argue she drove ahead to where Arcadia Bay used to be to visit her mother's grave over Christmas or something like that, and Max’ plan was to come too as soon as the term ends. They’ve had over fifteen years after the storm, I’m sure they have grown to be able to handle being away from each other for some time. Having them break up off screen just feels like a gut punch to most fans who decided to save her. In another scenario, the sequel would've picked up right after the storm, but that makes it even harder to respect both endings.

So, fast forward fifteen years to Caledon University, Lakeport, Vermont.

The realities can't be too different even though they surely would be, but it’s two possible futures to explore through Max and how she discovers these differences. That would require newspaper articles, text messages, diary entries, similar to Max' Arcadia Bay stuff box in Double Exposure.

When does Max realise she can switch between realities? Obviously, Safi's death still only happens in one and when it happens, realities glitch and overlap from Max (she sees everything in double exposure).

Would Safi die in the reality where Chloe lives or died? Personally I think the first option makes the most sense, putting Max on the spot whether she's going to let another town be destroyed or not. Most happening from the start of Double Exposure up until the glitch should in my opinion be the same, with my additions: Max teaching a class and then exploring the college, meeting with Safi and driving to the abandoned bowling alley, going to the Snapping Turtle, watching the meteors with Moses on the roof. Slight differences would include text messages from Joyce vs. from Chloe, etc. Let’s make it clearer which reality is which going forward:

A (Arcadia Bay survives)

B (Chloe survives)

On the roof, Safi acts strange and keeps staring at her phone – then the phone call. Max is worried and decides to follow Safi. When Max takes the photo of the owl, the realities begin to glitch. Max sees herself, hears the gunshot but sees Safi alive – she goes unconscious, wakes up with a bleeding nose, and runs up to the viewpoint to check on Safi.

Quick sidenote on why i really like the owl. Reddit user NihilistStylist put it quite nicely:

I love that! I think the butterfly in LIS1 was a very obvious but nonetheless amazing choice, and so is the owl, though I think it would've been cool to have anything on campus or in the library so Max (and the player) can learn about totem animals and what an owl may symbolise. (Hey, that would've been a great base for a conversation with Amanda. You know, the girl you're constantly told to snog on the bar counter or else...) 

Now it's important in which reality you began the story. If you started out in reality A, you are now in reality B, and vice versa. The A-to-B!Max finds Safi alive. Safi is confused why Max is making such a fuss and she's angry that she followed her even though she told her not to. As they are fighting, Max receives a text – from her dead best friend Chloe. The B-to-A!Max finds Safi's dead body; she was shot in the back. Max is utterly confused/crying and calls an ambulance. As she puts down her phone, she sees a new text – from Joyce (or somebody else from Arcadia Bay, though I suppose Max would have the most connections with Joyce because of her childhood friendship with Chloe). This establishes the two different realities. I like how in Double Exposure, they differentiate the worlds by coloring. When Safi is alive, the colors are warm, almost golden, uplifting the Christmas spirit. When Safi is dead, the colors are bluish-gray and washed-out. (It reminds me of Greta Gerwig's Little Women and her lighting/coloring choices to differentiate “childhood” and “adulthood”). That needs to be kept.

However, what I can whole-heartely go without is the social media app Crosstalk. It's very annoying and it often doesn't make any sense. Max takes a photo (on her instant camera?), somehow posts that picture on social media (that's the real mystery here, guys) and immediately, everybody and their goddamn dog have responded to the post. Also all the pseudo-deep text posts that serve nothing to the story except for me to roll my eyes at characters I don't even know are so useless. Burn it, I say.

Okay, maybe not burn it. But cut 90% of the rubbish that is posted on there. I doubt most people who just want to play the game don’t even read the posts, they are just annoyed by that red dot telling you eight more people have posted some vague shit in the last hour. I can go on Twitter if I want that.

Who should post on Crosstalk? Whose posts are necessary and interesting to the story?

1. Yasmin, as the head of Caledon, or maybe some official account, especially when it comes to official news about Safi’s death and all.

2. Loretta/GetAClue!. Yes, I know some people find her and her podcast annoying, but I think it could be interesting to read the crazy theories and that’s surely where they’ll be. I’ll get to Loretta in a bit. (Fun Fact: I just googled her character and her last name is ‘Rice’ – did anyone know that?)

3. Abraxas. Hear me out, in the current game, they are about as interesting and mysterious as Vinh is modest, but I think with a bit of work they could become some sort of Pretty Little Liars/Gossip Girl account that exposes secrets.

Otherwise I can’t think of anyone else whose posts I’d care about so… back to the story. 

You noticed I kept those first story points roughly the same. They work, they set up the first big questions: What happened to Safi? And what is happening with Max/the realities? What I disliked maybe the most about Double Exposure (apart from Crosstalk) is that it felt like a setup for another sequel, and not just any sequel, no, a Life Is Strange a là X-(Wo)Men or Marvel Infinity War. I was so confused by the last two chapters (if you can even call them that as they were so empty and short) and what Safi's intentions were, and judging by the stats on the “final” decision I doubt many players understood either. I do not want a power revelation, I do not want a team up against the evil, I do not want after credit scenes revealing the powers of a character you barely get to know.  What I wanted was to solve a murder mystery. Why don't we team up for that? I say Max teams up with Moses and Amanda to solve Safi's murder and for that, she tells them about her powers.

It would've been fun to see Max explore her powers when they get interrogated by the police (which the game either didn't show us or just glossed over like that's not something that happens) plus she could find out more about Maya Okada at the police station — the autopsy found traces of a drug in her blood (we’ll see why later). I wanted to see more of Alderman! He was an antagonist, accusing/judging Moses for having something to do with Safi's death, trying to sabotage the investigations, and to kill him off only shortly after he's introduced was so pointless. It felt more like a show-off, and never led to anything. No one was ever in danger of touching their other version ever again!

Why would Alderman sabotage the investigations/put it off as a suicide? Maybe because Safi's mother Yasmin told him to/payed him to. Caledon University doesn't have the best reputation as it seems, and maybe another suicide would look less bad than an actual murder. I think Max (as well as Moses and Amanda) are certain Alderman is trying to hide something, and maybe after overhearing a phonecall with Yasmin at the police station, they decide to break into Yasmin's office.

For that, they need to distract Vinh. Max can tell him the truth (depending on how well earlier conversations went, Vinh is willing to play along and let them in or threatens to snitch on them), lie to him or threaten to spill a secret she found out in the other timeline (that he and Safi dated but she broke up with him and he is therefore more likely to be a suspect in the investigations, that his election to become the head of Abraxas was manipulated, something like that...). The three get access to Yasmin's office. Moses is so nervous he decides to stand guard in case Yasmin (or Vinh, based on the earlier made decision) comes back. Max and Amanda find transfers from Yasmin to Alderman as well as Mails, confirming their suspicion.

And while we're talking about Vinh: His weird thing to turn every conversation with Max sexual needs to go. They work at the same place, he had something with Max' best friend, there's never any indication as to why Vinh does this in the first place and no, later revealing he has daddy issues or some shit does not explain that. The only time his flirty personality sorta works is during the smash/pass game but that also feels out of place. And by the way: Whether or not you are playing the B-reality!Max, I don't need her to have a love interest. This is about finding out who murdered her friend, not whether Max wants to smash the bartender or the cult leader. Back to the story.

They also find: A mail history of Yasmin and Gwen, arguing about Safi's failed book deal. Up til that point, they believed it was Gwen who sabotaged the book deal, but it seems like Yasmin was the one who did not want it to be published. Maybe Safi let some things slide when they were on the roof watching the meteors, which led to Max snooping around Gwen's office. I think that should take place before Max teams up with anyone. She finds mails in which Gwen first praises Safi's book to the publishers, then later cancels the deal. So it seems like Gwen let it fail, but Max doesn't know why until Yasmin's office.

When Max' leaves Gwen's office, she gets ambushed by Loretta. I like Loretta! She is interesting and not one of those polished, perfect characters. she is difficult and nosy and this pretend-detective, sticking her nose in other people's business (a bit like Max, only that she's less secretive about it). Loretta confronts Max about snooping. Max can either give her a satisfying logical answer as to why she was in Gwen's office (school work? picking something up for Gwen?), make a compromise that she gives Loretta a short statement for her podcast and therefore Loretta doesn't tell Gwen, or tell Loretta to stay out of her business which will lead to Loretta (maybe anonymously) telling Gwen. In that case, Gwen loses trust in Max and Loretta grows suspicious. If Max is nice to Loretta, she will later help them with the clues she found out when researching for her podcast.

Back to Yasmin's office. Amanda and Max find a phone locked away and manage to unlock it. There isn't much on there, except for an anonymous chat hinting at a love affair. They use nicknames. Max checks the phone in both realities. In A, the affair seems to have hit rock-bottom, Yasmin hasn't responded to the other person's messages within days; on the day of Safi's death, the messenger asked Yasmin to meet them at “their spot”. In B, the affair is apparently still going on. But who is the other person? Amanda says it sounds like another professor. Max checks Yasmin's calendar and notices most days have a few hours blocked around the afternoon. She takes a picture. 

Outside, someone's coming back. If Max talked to Moses before entering the office/made him more confident, he manages to distract the person and take them to his office. If Max didn't talk to him, she and Amanda have to escape through the window. I think it’d be funny if someone from Abraxas saw them and posted about it on Crosstalk.

Since the anonymous chatter seems to be another teacher, Max needs to check when which professor has their consultation hours and when they are out of the office. Max checks the calendars at the teachers lounge. Gwen and Lucas both regularly have afternoon hours blocked for private reasons, but since Max knows about Gwen's wife, she decides to go after Lucas. She finds out the nickname used in the chat also appears in Lucas' highly praised novel — Yasmin and Lucas have (or had) an affair.

The difference between the two realities:

A (Safi is dead): The affair is over. Lucas wears his wedding ring, but is fighting with his wife or his son over the phone, maybe even tries to get back with Yasmin. Yasmin tries to cover it up, further sabotaging the investigations since that would ruin Caledon's reputation even more.

B (Safi is alive): The affair is still going on. Lucas also still wears a wedding ring when Max sees him. He seems to be on good terms with his wife and son while juggling the affair.

In the game, if you look at the cherry blossom tree on campus, you find out about Maya Okada. It's established she was a writer, Safi's friend, and killed herself some time prior to the start of the game. But why? I like the idea that Lucas was her professor and stole her work, pretending to have written it himself. It’s just that Lucas being an asshole isn’t really enough of a reason to me to steal an entire manuscript and ruin his student’s life.

I think Maya found out about the affair, but before she could tell Safi, Lucas threatened her to stay quiet and stole her book. It broke Maya and then we all know what happens. Why is it so bad that Maya found out about the affair? Well, on one side, she is best friends with Safi and would’ve told her, and on the other side, I think she was part of Abraxas and therefore could’ve spilled the secret on Crosstalk.

In my mind, Safi and Maya were both part of Abraxas. Only that Safi was kicked out after her relationship/fling with Vinh. Maybe she broke his heart, maybe she was trouble, maybe they were afraid her mother would put a stop to it.

Safi doesn't accept that Maya just killed herself for seemingly no reason (they were best friends, she would've known if something was up) and when Lucas' book gets published, she immediately recognizes it as Maya's work. She confronts Lucas, she tells her mother, she even begs Vinh to post about it, but she has no real evidence. The only copy left of Maya's work is with Lucas'. Safi's only escape is writing; her work is very autobiographical though poetic, and Yasmin can tell what it's about. Gwen has had assumptions, too. Max finds Maya's old texts in Lucas' office, confirming that he did steal it word for word. She also finds a gun locked away in a safe alongside the documents.

I’ve been mentioning Abraxas here and there so maybe let’s talk about them now. In Double Exposure, they are blowing smoke. Max comparing them to the Vortex Club is laughable. So how about this: Max gets ahold of Reggie’s mysterious box and has to solve the riddles to get inside. It should be more difficult than just turning the box and pressing some buttons, which would be a great opportunity to explore the campus more. Now, what’s inside? A note with a place and a time for a secret Abraxas meeting for new members. Max tried to talk to Vinh about Maya but he rebuffed her, so she decides to go to the secret meeting to try her luck there.

Abraxas should be some sort of cult/secret society and really pretentious. I’m talking rituals, cloaks, matching tattoos, drug use. Maya was deep in that cult and when she was so upset and confused about Lucas’ stealing her book and all, she went to Vinh/Abraxas for help. During a ceremony/ritual, she overdosed and died. Vinh blames himself for Maya’s death and never told Safi. Caledon only ever officially stated that Maya killed herself.

At that point, Max, Amanda and Moses decide that Max needs to talk to the Safi who's still alive. Both Safis had a similar state of knowledge about what went on with Lucas and Maya. Max can decide whether she wants to let Safi know about the affair between her mother and Lucas AND whether she wants to tell Safi about what Vinh had to do with Maya’s death. This affects Safi's trust in Max but also her rage/longing for revenge. Still, they do not know who shot Safi. Safi points out that nobody's tried to kill her in this reality yet, so there must've been something her other version found out that made her the target. She says if she found out anything, she surely wrote it down or kept the evidence in her house (or apartment? We never even find out where she lives, Jesus.).

Max switches back and they search Safi's place. Turns out the Safi from reality A found out about the affair and, upon receiving backlash from her mother, wrote a mail to Lucas' wife with her evidence. But she didn't use her own name. She used her mothers, pretending it's Yasmin who wrote to the wife.

Max, Moses and Amanda gather all their evidence and review them at Max’ house. Loretta comes over because she saw the missing cat in Max’ living room and she’s investigating that case. She sees what they are doing and wants to help. They suspect her of only having her true crime podcast in mind, but Loretta says that the students deserve to know what happened and she has been secretly investigating Maya Okada’s case. She found out from whom Abraxas is buying their drugs and how they can reveal so many secrets.

Max confronts Yasmin, who didn't know until now who leaked the affair. She admits she told Vinh to help cover any rumors about it and to find out who might've gotten wind of the affair. Max digs deeper, wanting to figure out what Yasmin knows about Safi's death, but she says she doesn't know who did it. Max asks about the affair and the “spot” mentioned in the texts. Yasmin says she hasn't even looked at the phone since before Safi's death and breaks down. The last point of call is Lucas. Max, Moses, Loretta and Amanda decide they should lure him to the viewpoint (the alleged “spot”) via a message over Yasmin's secret phone.

Outside, a storm is raging. It’s snowing heavily. Max recognised it immediately, knowing she has once again gone to far with her powers. She wants to abort the mission (Moses and Yasmin are in favor of this), but Loretta and Amanda say they just need to find Lucas. Surprisingly, he comes to the viewpoint despite the weather.

At first, he’s defensive, then Lucas confesses he was the one to fire the shot, but he thought it was Yasmin. Because of the snow and the dark, he mistook the daughter for the mother. He wanted revenge on Yasmin for destroying his family (that’s his way of viewing it, saint Lucas of course never did anything wrong… ha ha) and thought if she was dead, Safi would stop trying to get the truth about his novel out. Max says they will call the police on him, but Lucas says they have no evidence and pulls out his gun. Loretta comes in and says that they actually got evidence of everything as well as his confession and reveals a recorder for her podcast.

Lucas points his gun at Loretta. Max rips up her hand to stop him and freezes time just like she did in LIS1 when Kate tried to jump off the roof. She manages to take the gun from Lucas’ hand, then the freezing stops. Loretta sacks the evidence, but Lucas is fighting Max, pushing her over the edge of the viewpoint. She can hear the others calling her name, but also the voices of other people like Chloe, Joyce, Jefferson, Victoria, etc.

Then she gets sucked right into the storm.

Okay, wait. Let’s pause for a second.

One big problem my version has that is also present in Double Exposure: What about the other Max? I think in Double Exposure, there isn’t even another Max. The doppelgänger turns out to be Safi, but I’ve cut out her superpowers because I don’t think they elevate the story in any way. I think Max creates these two universes because of her grief and so she is the one variable standing between the realities that later merge into one.

But in my version, there have to be two versions of Max. One from reality A and one from reality B. And which one you play with depends on what ending you chose in LIS1. Let’s try to make sense out of that:

In the beginning, I said: The A-to-B!Max finds Safi alive while the B-to-A!Max finds Safi's dead body. Both saw Safi die in the glitch before they were thrust into the other universe. The gunshot was heard in both realities, which is why the police is called in both realities. I think I mostly wrote from the perspective of the B-to-A!Max, because she witnesses the murder hand-first and is therefore in the midst of the investigations. She has to solve the murder. Meanwhile A-to-B!Max has to confide what she saw to someone, possibly Moses, first. She has to solve a murder that did not happen in this world, but did happen in the other. Both have to solve why they changed places. Both want to get back to their own world… right?

What needs to be established is that Max can run into her other self and that other characters will be confused, saying things like “Weren’t you just at the Snapping Turtle?” or “Didn’t you say you wanted to go home?”. That will lead to more mess/weird conversation. It would be so cool to have a task in the game where you have to hide from the other self in order to get somewhere, similar like Max and Chloe sneaking around the swimming pool to not run into David.

So, what happens in reality B? Yasmin and Lucas are still having an affair, so they cannot convince Yasmin to text Lucas to meet her at the viewpoint for a confrontation. Either way, Lucas is busy that night: He wants to make an announcement about the screen adaptation of “his” novel at the Snapping Turtle (similar to what happens in Double Exposure). Amanda, Moses, Loretta and Max want to expose him.

Now it matters what the other Max told Safi. If the other Max told Safi everything, Safi will not only expose that Lucas stole Maya’s manuscript, but also the affair and Maya’s overdose caused by Vinh and Abraxas. If the other Max didn’t tell her about the affair or Abraxas fault, Safi of course won’t mention it. Lucas and Safi have a back and forth conversation until Safi says that it was Max who told her everything. Lucas storms off stage, grabs Max’ arm and asks her to go outside with him to talk while he secretly shows her he has a gun. She has no choice but to follow him outside onto the terrace. Here, a storm rages as well. Lucas confronts her, wants to know how much she knows and pushes her up to the railing.

The others follow them outside. A close up shot on Max’ face, trying to get Lucas to put down his gun, until Safi interrupts her and points at the storm. It’s really close. In that careless moment, Loretta tries to get ahold of the gun. The gun fires. Lucas pushes Max over the railing. She, just like her other self, gets sucked into the storm.

We need a realities-glitching-nightmare sequence in the game and now it’s time for that. I don’t like that in Double Exposure, it takes place in a motel we have never seen before. Yes, Max has lived a life in those over fifteen years since the first game, but this has no meaning to the player. What I did like about that motel scene is how more and more stuff turned into paintings. It’s a nice illusion and when Max tries to find her way out of the following locations, those optical illusions should definitely stay: Max’ classroom, the bowling alley, the Snapping Turtle, the Abraxas’ location and finally (and here, I’m allowing myself to stray from what I just said) a mirror labyrinth. Max sees dozens of versions of herself in those mirrors until one doesn’t follow her movements. Say hi to your other self, Max! They talk for a bit until the other Max touches the mirror, saying they can make everything go back to normal.

I don’t know if this is big enough for a final decision, but it’s what I’ve come up with. Max can either switch back or stay. It’s a second chance so to say. She got a glimpse of the future she could have had if she decided differently back then in Arcadia Bay. Does she still stand with that? Does she miss [Chloe | Arcadia Bay] so much that she is willing to stay in the reality she previously gave up? Does she miss Safi so much she wants to stay in the reality she’s alive or can she leave her?

[ STAY ] or [ GO ]

[ STAY ] The Max you play doesn’t touch the mirror. She turns back. The Max on the other side is very upset (“NO! COME BACK!”) and hammers against the mirror, but it’s too late. The “portal” is locked, they cannot switch back and forth between realities anymore.

A-to-B!Max is now in the world where Chloe and Safi are alive, but Arcadia Bay got destroyed.

B-to-A!Max is now in the world where Chloe and Safi are both dead, but Arcadia Bay is alive.

[ GO ] The Max you play touches the mirror and through that contact, they get thrown back into their respective worlds. The “portal” is locked, they cannot switch back and forth between realities anymore.

Each Max is back in the world she belongs in. What happened while Max was inside the storm? What are the differences between the final confrontation?

First of all, the storm is gone. Everyone in the area has a headache and some memories are mixed up, just like in Double Exposure. No one remembers that Max switched between timelines and she does not tell anyone.

Universe A (Safi is dead): The confrontation happens at the viewpoint. Amanda and Loretta are holding Lucas to the ground; Moses is calling the police. Loretta has Lucas’ confession on her tape, has the murder weapon, and they all saw that he tried to kill Max as well.

Lucas gets arrested. They all have to testify. Yasmin dissolves Abraxas before having to resign from her post. Max can decide whether or not she wants to give the police the evidence on Vinh and Abraxas. If she does, the police decides the evidence not valid enough, but Vinh gets suspended*. Loretta makes a long podcast episode and writes an article on the steal, earning an award. Alderman gets suspended for obstruction of investigations and corruption.

*The case will not be reopened. Owning the drug is not a direct indication that Vinh/Abraxas were the ones who gave Maya the drug. But the use of drugs on campus is still illegal, so he doesn’t get to keep his job.

Max celebrates an early Christmas with Moses, Amanda and Loretta at the Snapping Turtle before driving to Arcadia Bay.

Universe B (Safi is alive): The confrontation happens at the Snapping Turtle. If Max managed to talk Lucas into lowering the gun before Loretta grabbed it, the fired shot was aimed at Loretta. She dies. (Sorry! But somebody has to die!) If Lucas refused to lower the gun, his shot was aimed at Max but because of the storm, the bullet misses. Amanda and Safi are holding Lucas to the ground; Moses is calling the police. Lucas never confessed but they have enough evidence.

Only if Loretta was shot, Lucas gets arrested. In both cases, his awards get taken away, the book won’t be renewed and Maya’s manuscript gets published. Also his wife divorces him. If Loretta lives, she makes a long podcast episode and writes an article on the steal, earning an award. Max can decide whether or not she wants to give the police the evidence on Vinh and Abraxas. If she does, the police decides the evidence not valid enough, but Vinh gets suspended. (Reasoning explained above)

Max celebrates an early Christmas with Safi, Moses, Amanda and Loretta at the Snapping Turtle before leaving to meet up with Chloe.

I don’t know if this story is enough to split it into five chapters, scrolling back I think it might be four:

Chapter One: Introduction to Max’ new life, ending with Safi’s mysterious death / cliffhanger: Max noticing she must’ve switched realities Chapter Two: Investigations at the police station and at various offices / cliffhanger: Yasmin and Lucas have or had an affair Chapter Three: Maya Okada and Abraxas / cliffhanger: Abraxas killed Maya Chapter Four: Confrontation, Nightmare and End

Splitting them further would make them feel shorter and more empty.

Let me know what you think!

[worldsfromhoney]

Buzzing back into town!

i think the best thing 'bout Tumblr is i can drop off the planet for two years and come back to y'all still fucking 'round like it's still '07—but then again, it's always '07 here 🤪

so, et voila, BEE is back to fuck around!

for those who liked my old intro post, i'm sure y'all can find it 'round here somewhere if you get bored enough. new comeback, new intro ✌️and tbh that peppy energy screams early 20 something who can still pretend 18 energy

it's 2025 and i'm too tired to deny everything hurts and creaks now 🧓🩼

so, let's start the program:

bio shit

they/them

i like tea but i'll go back to loving it as soon as i get my own flat

mid-20s, POC based in London

obsessed with podcasts

i can't make decisions so wheelofnames is my bfffff

in love with musicals

a goldfish can beat my short attention span

writing crap

✅spec, fantasy, magic realism, comedy, romance, modern, drama

easy pickings for me. my work defaults to these

❓historical, sci-fi, punk, crime, horror

i'm very interested in dipping into these but it takes me a hella lot of effort. i never liked research and these require a lot.

❌gore for gore's sake, non-fiction, literary

no. definitely not.

on: trigger warnings

i grant permission for you fuckers to cancel the shit out of me if i forget to put warnings on any of my works

recently, i've got into a spat with the CW department of my uni about making trigger warnings as an SOP. a short film assigned to one module almost had me go into a mental breakdown.

of course, they just sent out a departmental email containing links to bullshit research denouncing the need/effectivity of trigger warnings.

so, fuck those guys.

BEE will always add trigger warnings.

damned socials

_NOOK Repository - my blog fiction website

@ therealbee.wrtr (IG) - my lil' poetry

stingersgivemeabuzz (Reddit) - my tries at horror and sci-fi

@ bee.thewrtr (Medium) - some of my serious stuff

for shitposting

Goodreads - my vicious reviews

bee.thewrtr.bsky.social (Bluesky) - my rando thoughts

Ko-Fi - my honey jar 🪰🍯

i'm giving myself permission to cancel any of you shits who spam me or even dare to send me offensive content

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ficlet fuckery

for now, refer to this old list for the ficlets i've posted on here. i'll mow it down when i got time since i don't want to repeat post shit i already got somewhere else

pissworthy poetry

on the fence whether i should keep this here. well, this little shit will disappear if i decide to yeet it

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tags

#bee writes some stuff - find all my ficlets

#bee plays some games - at least 1% energy for social interaction

#bee answers some asks - assholes, piss off

#bee saves some stuff - unexpected geniuses on here

on: taglists

either message me or comment or reblog my posts to be put on. do the same if you wanna be yeeted off

i'll only tag on ficlets i post

i mean, why would you wanna know what i fuck around with here? to each their own, hoes ✌️

OK, HI AND BYE

[thecouchsofa]

8, 19, 25! love your fics <3

💛🩵🩷💚🧡

8. if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

I have the outlines for two sequels sitting in my docs that I never got around to writing! The more recent one is for my fic Some Nights from last year's Dronarry fest; they were going to be in Paris eating croissants and jogging along the Thames and fucking nasty against those funky little window railings. The only other sequel I planned was a prequel and that was for The Lesson of You; it was going to follow Drarry as they counted down to the time when they would need to start trying to become pregnant with Ollie and agonising over how they would know that it was the right time, how easy it would be to mess it up and not get the kid they'd been waiting five years for, and how they would come to terms with losing him again for the final time (spoiler: they wouldn't).

I don't tend to plan out sequels since I finish a story when I think the narrative has run its course - I don't have a desire to write a few k's of the characters slice-of-lifeing it up because that would be quite removed from the original premise of the story!

19. the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

For my 2025 Dronarry fest fic I have created an entire Western town that is based off of Humboldt Wells, Utah Territory (it burned to the ground in 1877 and was rebuilt as the current town of Wells, Nevada), and I've had the best time researching shit like when the major cholera epidemics happened and how to play Faro. Fun fact: in the mid-late 1800s it cost 5 cents for a pound of fresh beef and 9 cents for a pound of salted. Will this information be relevant in the fic? Absolutely not. One of my uni majors was in history so I'm properly in my element.

25. besides writing, what are your other hobbies?

^^ see above 💀

I love to read (trad pub as well as fic), play the Sims 3 (4 can fuck off), Civilisation 3, and Age of Empires 2 (I have multiple thousands of hours of AoE2 on Steam and my ELO is still ass, you can pry the build order I created when I was 12 out of my cold, dead hands). I also love being outside, but idk if you can call that a hobby - if there is sunshine, I'm there ☀️

✍️Fic writer asks✍️

[truitt-story]

Monday, November 18 — The Character Tour: Create a travel itinerary featuring 10 significant locations from your character’s life (can be in the same town/city, country, or even around the world!). You can do this in a saved Google Map too.

From: tiana@tianasplace.com To: ktruitt@tulane.edu

Hey Keke!

Heard you're all moved in to Tulane— can't believe you're already in uni!!! Seriously, you're making me feel so old.

I'm christening your new university email address with some local recs that I remember from my time in NOLA. Have fun, be safe, call me if you need anything, etc.

Cafe Du Monde for beignets

Yes, it's basic, but it's sort of a rite of passage. And they're good beignets. Not the best in town, but I can recommend them in good conscience. The thing about beignets is that sadly nothing will compare to my recipe (sorry!) but you'll find your own favorite spot in time. For now, go with your first-semester-freshman-year friends that you may or may not stay in touch with later on and just enjoy being adults for the first time.

2. Mojo Coffee for studying and snacks

I know this is across town for you, but when I tell you how many long, long nights studying I spent here... and yeah, there is absolutely studying that you have to do in culinary school. It's not all chopping and sauteeing. I'll spare you the explanation of the history of the sous vide method, but just know that I did a lot of readings here. Get an iced mocha and a banana chocolate chip muffin and thank me later.

3. Tia Maria's for a great first date spot

Or just bring a friend here! But I always thought this place was a little romantic. Or maybe it's just that their pupusas are an experience akin to falling in love. I won't bore you with the whole story but I did have some really lovely moments here, I'll say that much.

4. City Park for people-watching and dog-watching

I went here a lot when I was feeling homesick or overwhelmed. I think something you'll find (not to scare you) is that when you're all on your own in a new place, it's easy to feel alone, even in a room full of people. For me, being completely surrounded by strangers going about their random lives made me feel better for some reason. And dogs. Lots of dogs. Just grab a bench here, watch the world go by. It'll help. I promise.

5. Red Eye Grill for FOOD and NON ALCOHOLIC DRINKS until you are 21

I am officially NOT recommending you a bar. I'm just letting you know that this place is a lot of fun and open late, and once you are of legal drinking age (why is it so late in the US??) you would maybe enjoy a drink here. Many fun nights here in culinary school. And open late.

6. The Superdome for a concert

I DID get very lucky to get gifted Saints tickets once, but I wouldn't count on that. But next time Beyonce goes on tour (she better in the next four years) I'm coming to visit and we're going. Anyway, keep an eye out for cheap nosebleed tickets for other stuff, the stadium's not hard to get to and you'll have fun.

7. St Charles Ave for Mardi Gras

There are actually a ton of parades in different locations all season (Mardi Gras is a season, not a day!) but this was always where my friends and I went. Bring coffees and beignets and get ready to catch some beads! This is when I started really feeling like this was my city. Maybe that'll be another moment for you, but I hope you feel that it's special too.

8. Jamila's Cafe for amazing Tunisian food

You're in uni now! Try new things! My roommate, Nina, and I, we used to literally spin a wheel to try a new restaurant every weekend. Once we tried Jamila's, we sort of started rigging it so we could keep going back there. It's that good. Make sure you save room for dessert, their pastries are heavenly.

9. Fives for a special occasion

Go here with your parents toward the end of the year. Brag a little about how hard you worked. Thank them for everything. And then cover the bill. I know, I know! But trust me, it will be a special memory they never forget. I did it, and I know I won't.

(Get the oysters)

10. Bonnabel Hill for a perfect sunset

Bring a few of your friends and some NON-ALCOHOLIC beverages, also toward the end of the school year. Or maybe save it for graduation. Sunsets are kind of perfect for stuff like this, and this is the best one you'll see in NOLA. I'm not gonna say much more than that, because I know you'll make it your own. And that's what I really want for you. These are just my memories, but I know you're going to make your own.

Love you. Call me. Call your parents. Have fun and be safe.

XOXOXOXO

Tia

[ficlibraryhub]

Smut

Fics that include smut

❥ When You Least Expect It [182k] ♡ LHStylinson

Harry and Louis' son is on a journey of self discovery and figuring out his own sexuality, with some very unexpected turns for the Tomlinson family along the way.

❥ Take Your Time [247k] ♡ LHStylinson

Rosie Tomlinson is the third oldest of the Tomlinson kids and seems to have broken the tradition of falling in love by 18. It's her first year of uni and she still hasn't held a boy's hand, hasn't had a real first kiss. When she does meet a boy though she knows bringing him home won't be easy. Her dad (Louis) will be even more overprotective than he was over her older sister, Alexis. But at least Rosie has her pop (Harry) as help to somewhat keep her dad from losing his head.

❥ Dear Santa [21k] ♡ Snowy38

"Dear Santa...I know you're very busy and you have lots of toys to make but I wondered if this year I could ask for something else. I changed my mind about the puppy and I'd like to ask if you can help me instead." Miss Fields looks mildly bemused as Beau takes a breath. "I used to have a really cool Doctor: possibly the coolest doctor ever and then he went away only he's back and he helped me feel better and I'd really, really like it is I could say hi to him again." "Who was your doctor, Beau?" Her teacher asks. "Dr. Styles," she replies with a sweet smile. Miss Fields glances over to Sam. "He's just come back into town hasn't he? I'm sure we can arrange for you to say hello..." "My Daddy won't let me," she pouts, scratching a nail against her page a little. She's decorated it with glitter in the colours of the rainbow. "We can ask him if it's alright," Miss Fields suggests. "Perhaps he can come with us?" "Oh, can we?" Beau beams, gasping. Her teacher smiles and rests a gentle hand on her back. "Think of something else you'd like to ask Santa for," she suggests.

❥ you go undercover (you cross your fingers) [26k] ♡ forthetherapy

When they reach the top of the steps, Harry puts the buggy down gently. "Thank you," Louis says. "My hero." Harry laughs. "You don't need rescuing," he says. or Louis didn't think that motherhood would be easy, but he certainly wasn't prepared for a certain alpha called Harry appearing each time he needs help until accepting is no longer a difficult thing to do.

❥ i drink the honey inside your hive [7k] ♡ levelofcharm

"Look at me," Harry demands lowly, suddenly grabbing Louis' jaw and forcing their eyes together. Louis' face is squished in between the fingers, wide eyes looking up at him when he sneaks a gloved thumb in the corner of his mouth. He smiles, the finger tugging on his bottom lip and opening his mouth slightly, "That's better, blue." Louis' shoulders hunch slightly at the nickname, neck straining to maintain eye contact, his panties get tighter as his cock hardens at the sight, eyes blinking slowly to ease the stinging tears. Catching a glimpse of the growing bulge in Harry's navy trousers, the standing man notices, tsking and shaking his head disappointedly, "I thought you were going to be good tonight. What happened?" "It's just-" Louis looks up at him again with watery eyes, babbling around the thumb in his mouth, "Haven't got to play with you for so long, sir. I need-" Harry nods sympathetically and Louis cuts himself off. "I know, baby. It's okay." the glove fic

[draslihanxfahri-bailey]

"That is a fair point. Though, I suppose from an anthropologist's perspective like myself, the past is important to study and there's still so much we can learn from it. After all, new discoveries are made every day that help us learn about daily life in the past, which could help us link how we got from, say, a horse and carriage to vehicles. While also, from the things we already know about, we can use those as a reference to stop ourselves from repeating past patterns. Or, at least, try to. Not everyone does and we've seen the results. I guess what's so fascinating about history is that it's being made every single second." Of course, Asli could understand why there were people who didn't understand history nor believe it to be important. And frankly, she blamed it on how history has been taught in schools and how people can easily twist information to change things. Sometimes making it hard to distinguish which is real or not if one didn't have the resources to differentiate, or if a person even cared to try and figure things out.

Chuckling softly, she rubbed the back of her neck. "I get it. I use to teach World History at one of the high schools in town before teaching a few courses at the uni. I think the problem with trying to teach history is that the Standards emphasize more on the dates and timelines instead of the people who lived during that time and went through those events. I grew surrounded by history; My dad's an archaeologist and I grew up traveling with my family around the world. I spent more time at excavation sites and museums and connecting with the locals than in my own homes. I've always been fascinated by the civilizations and the people behind it all. From nobility to the everyday man, trying to figure out how they felt and what they might've been going through. You can learn a lot about a person and their past through their favourite items. Like, for instance: people always talk about Pharaoh Tutankhamun's gold and lapis lazuli mask, but did you know that he was a lover of ducks? A couple of his clothing items from throughout his life had some kind of duck motif somewhere. It's stuff like that that makes me love history so much. It's not always easy and sometimes I get so frustrated and upset, but I learn. And learning all of that has helped shaped me into who I am today." ||📜@mereking

"I don't like to live in the past. I mean when I think about History, I think about all the things that have happened to the world but also I'm just like why does it really matter in the end? What matters about what got us here and instead shouldn't we be focused on the here and now?" Meredith let out a breath, her hand moving to run through her blonde locks. Maybe if she paid attention during History, she would actually like it but she got good enough grades to pass; not enough to really enjoy what she was learning. As the other woman talked, she listened. She could tell just how passionate the other one was about the subject and something about that made the woman smile. Not many people she knew or hell even didn't know were passionate about anything so it was like a breath of fresh air for her. There was a lot that she didn't know about the subject and something about the way that the girl felt inspired by it as well as people she knew, it was nothing like she had expected. When the woman finished her spiel, the smile on her face grew. "You don't have to apologize. I think it's kind of awesome that you are that passionate about something. I guess I never really understood the depth of how far or how important history can be." She leaned forward on her elbows and sipped her drink. "What made you get into history?" (@draslihanxfahri-bailey)

[freesomebodybyluna]

...

[aredheadedmess]

Pied Piper || JJK [8]

Summary: Y/N L/N, an investigative journalist for the Daily Bullet, usually doesn’t see much out of the ordinary; A missing person’s case gone cold, an old case reopened and solved with updated technology, the thrilling excitement when another puzzle of one of the biggest serial killers is cracked. But when an old file resurfaces, she brings back a past that should have been burned with the file a long time ago.

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter Warnings: One swear word, talks about disappearing children, allusion to the paranormal and unexplainable things, this is also a very dialogue heavy chapter. let me know if I missed anything

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Mystery/Thriller, Paranormal, Strangers to Friends

Chapter Rating: Pg-13

A/N: I'm back! I'm sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out 😓 I lost motivation to do a lot of things, and when I finally got back to writing this, I scrapped my original idea and rewrote. I can't tell you guys how many times I rewrote this haha... and then uni started up again so I unintentionally pushed this to the side. BUT now I'm back and I hope to finish up this series soon! There's a couple of major things that I want to happen before it ends, so look forward to a couple more chapters! I hope you like it! 😊

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

6 September, 20XX

It shouldn’t have taken you as long as it did to get here; standing on the front porch of the most recent disappearance victim. After your talk with Jungkook, you knew there was no easy way of approaching the subject with the woman. The questions you needed to ask demanded so much from the person answering. So you kept to yourself.

For the past two days, you kept yourself tucked away in your room. You paced the floor, thoughts running a mile a minute about everything that had happened so far. From when you first drove into town, to the heavy conversation with Jungkook a day prior. You tried to find the best way to ask the questions to get enough information in return without hurting the victim even farther than they already were. But there really wasn’t an easier way.

The front door slowly opens only far enough to peek outside; the chain on the top of the door restricts it from opening any more. Martha peeks through the crack. You smile gently at her, hoping she will recognize you from when she saw you a couple nights ago. She offers a small smile in return.

“Hi, Martha,” you begin slowly. “Is it alright if I come in and ask you some questions?”

She nods, almost frantically. She shuts the door, and you can hear the frantic movements of the deadbolt being shifted around before the door swings open again.

“Sure, sure.” She waves you in. “Yes, come on in. Would you like something to drink?”

“Water is just fine, thank you.”

As you enter the house, Martha nods towards the living room seating. You make yourself comfortable as she grabs a glass of water for both you and her.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you.” You smile. “Please, get comfortable.”

You gesture to the couch opposite the one you are on. Waiting until she gets settled in, you review the notes you’ve already made in the file you brought along with you, preparing your pen to take any more notes. You take a deep breath. Hopefully you can get all the information you need to get your foot in the door in this investigation.

“I was hoping to ask you about what exactly happened two nights ago?” you ask slowly.

“Of course.” Her face hardens into a look of determination. “I am willing to answer anything to find my daughter.”

“Thank you. Now, can you describe to me how you found out she was gone?”

Martha sighs, leaning back into the couch. She clasps her hands in her lap and fiddles with her thumbs.

“Well, it was two nights ago, as you said. I had been home after work for a little while, preparing to make dinner for the two of us.”

You nod and tilt your head in curiosity.

“Where do you work?”

“I’m an antique dealer at a pawn shop in the next town over. I work eight to four on the weekdays.”

Martha smiles at the thought of her work. She must seem to really enjoy what she does.

“Okay. And you mentioned ‘the two of us’. Is it just you and your daughter?”

“Yes,” she hums, nodding. “Her father left us when she was little. It’s been her and I since she could walk.”

She looks up at you, waiting for you to ask another question. Instead, you gently nod your head, letting her know she can continue her thoughts. Martha glances back down at her restless hands. She clears her throat, licks her drying lips, and takes in another breath before speaking again.

“Well, I went upstairs to check in on her, and know her plans for the rest of the night. When I made it to her room, she was at her desk, working through the most recent packets for her classes. We had talked for a few minutes before I went back downstairs to continue working on dinner.”

“So you had seen and talked to her before she disappeared?” you ask.

“Yes. She seemed completely fine.” Her brows furrow as she shakes her head slightly. “She never mentioned anything alarming. Her and I have a really good relationship where we try not to hide anything from each other.”

You nod. There is a moment of silence between the two of you as you write down some of the key notes. The only sound being the scratching of the pen against the paper. Your eyes lift up as you finish, nodding again for her to continue.

“I was in the kitchen in the middle of cooking when I heard the radio suddenly playing.” Her head tilts in the direction of the kitchen. Your eyes follow, catching a glimpse of an old radio, weathered from the many years of use. “I thought it was just Ayesha, but when I looked over, the room was empty. I thought it was odd at first, but the damn thing is so old that it will sometimes turn on by itself. I didn’t think anything of it until I realized what it was playing. It was something that I’ve never heard before. We always leave it on one station, so when it does turn on, it’ll play that station. It’s never once changed to a different one.”

Your eyes never leave the radio. Standing up, you walk towards it.

“Is it this one, here?”

“That’s the one.” Martha’s voice is close behind you. She must have gotten up herself as you made your way to the radio. “I had walked over to it to turn it off, but when I got to it, it wasn’t even on in the first place. But, it still kept playing this odd tune. Something like a flute playing through the speakers.”

You study the radio. The bright red paint is wearing off most of the antique. The knobs on the front have been used so much that the sides are worn down enough to see where your fingers should hold them. The glass covering the frequency indicator is slightly scratched when the light hits it just right. You glance around to the back, noting that it had been modified to use the house’s electrical system to stay powered. Though, when you look down at the wall socket, there is nothing plugged in.

“Did you unplug it?”

You glance up at Martha, an eyebrow raised in question. She nods as she looks at the outlet herself.

“Yes. I was trying to get it to stop playing. But nothing changed even after unplugging it.”

“That’s odd.”

Your brows knit together trying to come up with a logical explanation. Maybe the radio has a backup battery for when the power is out, to keep it playing. But when you glance at the back of the radio again, you realize there is no way a battery with enough power of any size could be hidden away.

Leaning down to plug the radio back in, you wait for any sign of electrical problems. Perhaps there was just a short after having it plugged in for so long. You aren’t an expert of the topic, by any means, but maybe if you could find where the problem might be, there would be at least one thing explained away.

“I remember hearing the stories that the folks around here would say about the disappearances,” Martha utters. You lift yourself back up to face her. “You know, the old tale of hearing faint music drift through the air, something that no one else hears but the person that will disappear. I didn’t believe it all at first. Mostly because it was all of the elders saying it, which you know, sometimes they aren’t always in the right space.”

You hum. Even from the short time working on this case, you read and heard most—if not all—the folklore surrounding the disappearances. Martha meets your gaze, a stone cold shiver running down her spine, and a flash of fear in her eyes as she begins to recall what she experienced.

“But there was something that just clicked in me once I realized that I couldn’t turn it off. I knew that it was the Piper’s music. The same music that was in the stories. I can’t tell you how fast I ran back up to Ayesha’s room. I opened her door, hoping that she would still be in there, at her desk. But the room was empty. As if she had vanished into the air. Everything was left like she had just stepped out to use the bathroom or something. The only weird thing about the room was her window.”

“Her window?”

“Yes.” Martha’s voice is stern. “She never has it open during the night. It gets drafty in her room, and the open window doesn’t help. Especially on cooler nights like that night.”

You glance up to the top of the staircase, as far up as you can see from the position you’re in. In the darkness of the upper floor, you can make out the beginning of a door frame just past the top of the last step.

“Is it alright if I took a look in her room?” you ask.

“Yes, of course. Follow me.”

Martha leads you to the staircase, flipping the lightswitch on the wall beside it to light the way. She takes a hesitant first step. Grabbing onto the railing, Martha ascends the stairs with you in tow. The boards creak under the weight, and one stair in particular screeches loudly as if it were shouting in agony. You glance around once you make it to the landing. There are three doors, one of which is wide open, showcasing the simple hallway bathroom. Martha pushes open the door nearest to the stairs.

“This is her room.”

The bedroom is just about as big as the studio apartment you use to live in during your college days. A twin bed is situated in the corner beside the window, its purple sheets crumpled slightly from someone sitting on the edge of the mattress. The closet doors a foot or two away from the foot of the bed. A small desk, papers and books scattered across the surface, sits up against the wall on the opposite side of the room from the window. The chair is pulled out and twisted as if someone had just stepped away from the desk. Your eyes glance over to the window where a light breeze is gently tossing the light purple curtains towards the center of the room.

You take a step into the room, skimming through the contents of the papers on the desk before making your way to the window. You lean down to scan the frame and stick your head outside, memorizing the view. You can see the top floors of the school several blocks down, and the old general store is just down the street from where they live. Pushing yourself back into the room to face Martha, your eyebrows furrow. One brow lifting in question.

“And this is exactly how you found it?”

She nods. She plays with her fingers as she avoids any eye contact with you, barely even looking at any of the things in the bedroom.

“Yes. I didn’t touch a thing. When I saw she was gone, that’s when I came running over to find you.”

“How did you know about me, anyway?” You tilt your head as you ask.

“It’s not that hard to find a new face roaming the empty streets.” Martha shrugs. “My daughter had mentioned about a woman who looked to have been collecting information about the town, so I had assumed that you must have been a reporter or something. And the Jungkook boy has the only place that would make sense to hold a new visitor.”

“I see,” you hum, glancing out the window one last time.

You step closer to Martha with a gentle smile resting on your lips.

“I appreciate you taking the time to answer my questions. I hope that I can give you the answers you need,” you speak with sincerity.

Martha shakes her head, stepping toward you herself and takes your hands in hers. A hopeful look takes over her features.

“No, thank you. I know that you will be able to help this town. I have a good feeling about it.”

“We will find her.”

“Thank you.”

You shove your notes and dead laptop into your backpack. The duffle bag for your clothes lays open on the bed, a couple of items still lounging about.

“What are you doing?”

Jungkook’s sudden presence startles you slightly. He’s very quiet, you’ve come to learn, showing up out of the blue when you least expect it. He leans against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest.

“I’m leaving,” you mumble, still preoccupied with packing to give him anything more than that.

A scoff rings out in the air. You furrow your eyebrows and glance up to where Jungkook stands. A strained smirk is painted on his face. His tongue pushes into the inside of his cheek. “I knew it. You’re just like the rest of them. Promising that you’ll help, only to leave this town in the dust once you get confirmation that we are just a bunch of hopeless cases.”

You quickly stand up from your crouched position on the floor. Getting up in Jungkook’s face to tell him your thoughts has become a lot easier the longer you’ve been here. So when he stumbles back slightly from the sudden close proximity, you feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. Though, you don’t focus much on it as you briefly explain why.

“I need back up. I’ll only be gone for the rest of today, so stop jumping to conclusions. You don’t know how hard I’m trying to keep the promises I’m making.”

Jungkook must have sensed your tenacity as he steps back, raising his hands in surrender before turning away towards the living room.

He wishes you a safe trip back into the big city.

The closer you drive to the town’s borders, the heavier the air feels. It’s as if there is an invisible force field over the town and the energy from it continuously affects you negatively. It doesn’t help that there is a dark storm rolling in over the mountains as you drive away. You can hear the rumbling of thunder from the inside of your car. It’s going to be a big storm.

As your car creeps up to the town boundary, you catch a glimpse of something dark from the corner of your eye. You turn your head to see what it is. Your eyes grow wide. Standing behind the welcome sign to the town, a dark figure seems to wave at you in the shadows. Though it has no distinct features, it looks as if it is grinning widely at you as you pass by. A cold shiver runs up your spine.

“What the f- Shit!”

As you turn back to face the road, a small herd of deer sprint across right in front of you. You have to slam on your brakes to stop you from knocking through the innocent animals. You manage to stop inches away from an unsuspecting dear. It’s frozen in the middle of the lane, staring your frantic form down. Too close for comfort. After taking a moment to catch your breath, you honk, sending the deer into a slight frenzy, and scaring it away. You glance through your rear view mirror at the sign as you start back up again, but there is nothing there.

“Yoongi!”

A head of shaggy brown hair whips towards the sound of your voice. Yoongi’s face lights up as he recognizes who you are. He rushes to stand in front of you, a look of worry taking over his face. He eyes you up and down like a worried mother, looking for any kind of injury.

“Y/N? Where have you been? It’s been a month. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” Yoongi spits rapid fire questions at you. You both have joked in the past that he should have become a rapper with how fast he speaks sometimes.

Confusion is written all over your face. A month? You had only been working on the case for a week and a half at most.

“No it hasn’t? It’s only been like two weeks.”

“You’re kidding, right?” he scoffs.

“No? My phone’s been dead, but there’s still no way that-”

“Ms. L/N?”

Your eyes light up at the sound of Namjoon’s voice. Turning to face him, you rush out what you needed to ask of him.

“Perfect. Mr. Kim, I need all the help I can get.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, a strong gaze watching your every move.

“Are you still working on that case? We have tried everything we can to help that town.” He shakes his head absentmindedly. “There’s nothing else we can do.”

“No.”

Both Namjoon and Yoongi look at you like you’re crazy. Did you just say no to the boss? Taking this case changed you quite a bit. Before, you would have never faced Namjoon the way you are right now. Before, you would submit to whatever Namjoon had told you to do as he would take over and close up most of the cases you worked on. Some of the surrounding employees must have heard or felt the shift in the air as they stare at the three of you without even trying to hide.

“I won’t take that as an answer,” you continue. “I need anybody that I can get. Forensics, paranormal, literally anyone.”

“Look L/-”

“Mr. Kim,” you interrupt.

Your voice is unwavering. Your feet are planted into the floor as if he is trying to knock you down with his words. Your eyes bore into his, trying to get your message through his thick skull.

Namjoon takes in a breath. He closes his eyes, bows his head slightly, and raises one hand.

“Fine. It won’t be very many, since most departments are busy with their own cases, but I’ll let them know. Min, go with L/N.”

A smile creeps up onto your lips.

“Thank you, sir.”

You walk up to the door of Jungkook’s Bed and Breakfast, bags in hand, and Yoongi on your tail. Before you step up to the porch, you turn to Yoongi.

“Be aware that you may not get the warmest of welcomes.”

Yoongi’s brows crease and a small pout forms on his lips.

“What do you mean?”

Without another word, you face forward again and walk up the steps. The front door swings open before you have the chance to ring the doorbell. Jungkook looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You call your boyfriend your backup?”

You push through the door, forcing Jungkook to move out of your and Yoongi’s way to get inside quickly. The sun is beginning to set and you didn’t want to stay outside any longer after what happened earlier in the day.

“One, he’s not my boyfriend,” you call out as you walk through the house to get to your room. “He’s got a fiance. Two, there will be others coming tomorrow. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

You glance back to see Jungkook grumble out something under his breath at your last few words. He takes one quick look at you, then Yoongi, rolling his eyes before speaking at you rather than the person he is referring to.

“He can take the room next to yours.”

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