#my fucking autistic ears make me angry when it’s too loud too

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Concentrating is so frustrating because the noise around me is either too much or not enough

[neatfrog]

my oc Boldizsár for @alexfeelyx, since you said you wanted to see him lol

(ignore the shitty minigun I didn’t feel like adding a bunch of detail for a sketch)

character info below the cut for anyone else interested

Boldizsár is a character I created roughly 8-9 years ago when Fallout 4 came out. He has a twin sister named Petra, and in my Fallout canon they are members of the Gunners. (*realized I forgot to add his blood type tattoo here, but he’s B+ and Petra is A-. I have no clue if twins can have different blood types like that so correct me if I’m mistaken, I genuinely tried to google but couldn’t get a solid answer)

He likes big guns and explosions, and sometimes talks himself up, but spending more than 2 minutes with him will reveal he’s an absolute cinnamon roll. Less prickly and more compassionate than his sister, he has a particular soft spot for animals and children.

They both joined the Gunners at the age of 15 - Boldizsár because they “looked badass”, and Petra followed only because she couldn’t convince her brother not to go.

(at the time of Fallout 4’s events, they’re both 19, but now that I’m almost a decade older than I was when I made these characters I might bump it up some more)

He and his sister are both of Hungarian descent, and their last name is Zsoldos (which I chose purposely because it means ‘mercenary’ and I thought it was funny as fuck. still think it’s funny tbh)

Traits/Behaviors

brave (sometimes too much for his own good)

outraged by injustice or mistreatment of innocent people

sometimes serious situations make him uncomfortable so he often compensates with humor to try to lighten the mood

struggles with guilt over past actions that harmed people

when young, he always listened to whatever Petra told him, and obeyed whenever she instructed him not to do something, but as they got older he became frustrated with her controlling behavior and started to make more of his own choices (which causes a good deal of the conflict in their relationship)

likewise, he has trouble telling her how he truly feels sometimes because he doesn’t want to hurt her (and also doesn’t want to deal with her being angry)

he has trauma from childhood events, but doesn’t realize it (and is somewhat ignorant of how bad it actually was, since Petra shielded him from most of it)

can be stubborn when he feels really strongly about something

very curious about the world and wants to explore (their upbringing was very closed-off and sheltered, they were basically raised in a cult)

is good at logic games and puzzles, and can strategize well

throughout time spent in the Gunners he became familiar with the inner workings/mechanics of explosives and large weapons (idk if it’s possible to dismantle a minigun and put it back together, but if so he could definitely do that)

the thing that would make him happiest is having a family of his own

he’s an aquarius (I gave him and Petra my mom’s birthday so it would be easy to remember lol)

can be pretty oblivious to certain things when they aren’t said/shown explicitly (yes he’s autistic why do you ask)

he’s naive about certain things in the world due to his sheltered upbringing, but is open-minded about new information and experiences

does his best to see the good in people even when they’ve done bad things (but also doesn’t tolerate purposely cruel people)

he wears that Coat all the time (he found it on a skeleton)

(during fallout 4 timeline) becomes deaf in one ear due to a bad injury (this is my reminder to give him some headphones bc the weapons he uses are loud af)

phobia of radscorpions (can we blame him? fuck those things)

-

There’s way more I could say but I think this is enough to sum up his character for now. I guess I should make a post for Petra too 🤔

[deanwax]

A TALE OF TWO THEATRES

Two juxtaposing journal entries about theatre shows I've seen, and how art can upset you as well as make you feel alive.

***

9 June 2022

Very unpleasant experience at theatre last night. I didn't journal it - I didn't even put a set snap on Instagram. I'd rather forget. It would have been a nice show, except it's hard to call it a show. Instead, it was a 50-minute endurance test of Man vs Sound. I can handle brief loud noises. I can handle many sustained loud noises. I cannot handle 50 consecutive minutes of absolutely BLARING, maximum bass, penetrating music with virtually no reprieve. It was. So. Loud. Ridiculous. It was all I could do [to] physically block my ears and try to suppress urges to tear out of there like a bat out of hell or yell at the sound technician. I could not focus at all. It got comical at points - like oh, good, there's a fucking tuba now. That was a hostile creative choice. But not for long. Then the discomfort set back in. It would have been much the same if the actors simply yelled in my face: YOU'RE AUTISTIC. YOU'RE AUTISTIC AND THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU AND EVERYONE IS GOING TO KNOW THAT SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH YOU. Awful. And I usually mask very easily because I was socialised as a girl.

I made a comment in the survey afterwards and I managed to keep it civil, but I am angry that I even had to divulge that I'm on the spectrum at all because of such a stupid production decision. I had to listen to Softy's Green River Stones meditation song he made on repeat the whole train ride home. I am very grateful for Tama's Discord server. They were sympathetic (especially Sunny who is autistic too) and helped me feel better. And I picked out a nice Italian restaurant for lunch on Saturday, so there's that to look forward to, too.

WALK - July 2022 - Blue Room Theatre

[scrawled in the top margin] (my hand in agony from writing fast due to excitement)

Absolute joy of the form! (Joy of the form! Joy of the form!) Oh! Another dance performance, completely and literally in the dark: I was as a newborn babe. Strobe lights blind us and we glimpse a lone figure in the doorway of a set filled with dark shapes. The lighting in this show was incredible: the lights danced just as much as the dancer. It was an incredible [symbiosis]. The figure tried to walk forward from the doorway but kept getting pulled back into the light. The music was alien and surreal.

[annotated in the margin] -> core memory: the shell of human ears against a writhing silhouette. fantastic.

It became almost primordial when the dancer crawled inside a misshapen swathe of fabric suspended from two wires. They writhed like a worm and then the fabric raised to reveal a great monstrosity of pleats, silks, ruffles and fringe bathed in green light. It moved as though two people were puppeting it, I was genuinely second-guessing myself that someone might have been hiding there since before the audience filed in but no: it was just ingenious costume (set?) design. A face and hands emerged from the beast and then the dancer too, walked away from that. They emerged in tin foil armour that eclipsed their vision, with a chest plate resembling a labia.They sat in a pyramid of light strips that rapidly oscillated bright colours. In a frenzy of techno they started to struggle, the armour twisting and turning backwards, the helmet eventually pulling free and levitating in the pyramid on a wire. Rave music starts to doof. We're all wired. The dancer pulls on a fringe coat (yes!) and a baseball cap with a full veil of fringe (YES!!) and they DANCE. They dance to the primordial gods. They dance as thought the helmet is their enemy. They dance until they drop.

Unclothed and amidst their fabrics, a spoken word poem plays. It speaks of hurt and defense mechanisms, of fear and armour. It's definitely rape trauma. And everything makes sense! But the poem also speaks of hope: a world that is gentle and and bright and shimmering. The dancer delicately gathers up their things, playfully exploring their set as though they see it from a new perspective. A sexy dress is held up against their body. They waltz with it and carry it backstage. They return and uncover a green wig in the corner. It briefly represents a new lover.  Then they don the wig themselves and a new, more colourful fringe jacket (YESS!!!). And then things get CAMP. We're talking a full werk and lip sync to an empowering pop song. In these moments I understand the cultural significance of drag. Proximity and empathy is required to fully enjoy it, which is why the distant commercialism of Ru Paul's Drag Race falls flat. I was giddy, laughing and clapping like a child. An absolute joy to behold.

***

Author's note: They are very passionate about inclusivity at Blue Room. Loud noises have been disclaimed in the show warnings ever since and earplugs are now available for shows with loud sounds.

[hyperfixationtimego]

autistic leon 🥺🥺 he wears earplugs during baseball games and he has an abundance of stim toys that he has to have all accounted for before he can do anything

god I have more asks to answer but my Leon brainrot is too strong so-

YEAH!!!! LITERALLY THE REASON I GRABBED ONTO HIM AS A COMFORT CHARACTER AND REFUSED TO LET GO WAS BECAUSE OF ALL THE FUCKIN!!!! SYMPTOMS AND STUFF HE HAD!!!! LIKE I LEGIT POINTED AT HIM AS SOON AS I MET HIM AND LEARNED MORE ABOUT HIM LIKE “holy SHIT that’s ME”

he’s fuckin autistic there’s no way around it. The way he fucks up social cues, the way he tries to reinvent himself to get people to stop associating him with a special interest he believes he no longer enjoys, the way he repeats a single word when he gets stressed out and angry, the way he takes naps in order to avoid feeling overwhelmed because he literally has no other way of coping with it,,,,,AUGH I love him so much

also just,,,,more of me projecting but i think the concept of him also having BPD fucks super hard. He’s impulsive, and things set him off really easily, but he feels things VERY intensely!!! When he’s happy, he’s super happy, when he’s pissed, he’s PISSED, when he’s bored, he needs to leave and go do something!! Like, god, sir, SAME?? And his sense of self is another thing AGHR I’m gonna shut up now because if I don’t stop I’ll Just Keep Talking so anyway back to autistic headcanons-

FUCK YEAH ABSOLUTELY he’s a very very loud individual, but whenever there’s an abundance of noise that’s not being made/controlled by him, it can be super overwhelming!!! His earplugs are literally a lifesaver they make him feel so safe

also unrelated but he’s absolutely someone who listens to music on headphones with the highest volume possible and everybody else is just “bro how are your ears not BLEEDING”

STIM TOYS STIM TOYS STIM TOYS AGRHBFNMEM!!!!!!!

He’s got bracelets and rings that aren’t even intended as fidget things but they twist and spin and are fun to run his fingers over so they absolutely count and he Needs them if he’s going anywhere

He carries around a baseball because sometimes just holding the weight of it in his hand is really comforting!!! But throwing it/tossing it in the air is also a surefire way for him to calm down, especially if he’s super excited or angry!! It really helps to ground him when he needs it!

Not technically fidget toys, but he plays with his piercings a lot!!! Lightly pulling on his earrings, pushing his tongue piercing against the roof of his mouth, twists his labret sometimes when he’s bored, etc. etc. like he tries to force himself to sit still and Not Do That because he doesn’t think it looks Cool™️ but neurodivergent brain doesn’t care about shit like that so ❤️

He’s definitely got some squishy stress balls, too!! Like just being able to squeeze something in his palm can really help when he can feel himself getting frustrated (this one works really well for him while he’s in class or doing homework and getting upset about not understanding the material/feeling burned out/etc.)

I bet he used to chew on his nails and probably still does if he doesn’t have immediate access to stim stuff (YEAH I’M PROJECTING AGAIN DIE MAD ABOUT IT /lh /pos)

And uhhhh failing that, he steals stuff from Kaz’s huge bag of fidget toys HSNANEBD the man is a LEECH but obv Kaz doesn’t mind cause that’s what the bag is there for lol

[ravens-rambling]

Snow equals Pain

A/N: Hheeyyy back at it again with these gay bois!! And of course, we’ve had too much fluff with these two why not add some little angst in it? No? Nobody asked for that? Welp...you guys got it anyways.

Again I’m not too sure with their personalities yet (curse these two why are you guys so frickin hard to write) but I hope I’m somewhat getting close to pinning them down??? Properly not.

Also, I’m properly not accurate at all when it comes to Photophobia but I do headcanon that Remy is REALLY sensitive to light even more so than normal cases of this so...idk yeah. Poor boi needs a rest. And hey more autistic Picani!! 

summary: What happens when you mix snow and a gay boi who’s very sensitive to bright lights? And even more so a very hyperactive gay boyfriend of this gay boi? Not a very good thing that’s what. 

WC: 2,407

ships: Romantic Remile

warnings: Photophobia, Migraines, anxiety, panic, headaches, cursing 

Tag List: @punsterterry @frostedlover @mycatshuman  @mutechild @panicattheeverywhere15 @thewinterbookqueen @riley-castillo  @stormcrawler75 @patchworkofstars @awkwardangie410

“Oh no don’t you even dare it girl.”

Emile stood not too far away with a snowball ready in one hand a bright smirking grin on his face. He raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah why not?”

“Because! Snow does not look pretty on this jacket and you do not want to see me angry now do you love?”

Emile smiled even more, “Hmm… I don’t know I might just want to see what you're like. And what if that jacket doesn’t look good you’ll look good in snow and that’s all that matters so think fast!!!”

Without more of a warning, before Remy could even think of moving out of the way, he was hit face first by a snowball. Laughter echoed it’s way to him as he shook his head and wiped his sunglasses. He had to squint to see that Emile was running away now sighing deeply at his childlike boyfriend.

“Alright Em! You asked for this!”

Placing his phone in his pocket he left his coffee on the wood bench hoping it’ll still be here in okay condition when he returns and chased after him. It wasn’t that hard to find his boyfriend as he was still laughing hard.

He grabbed a bit of snow and stuffed it into a snowball smirking as he got closer to the laughter, “Come out babe and I won’t punish you too hard.”

“Mhm, I think nah! Try to catch me if you can!”

As he turned a corner he yelped as a large snowball hit him on the back of the head knocking his sunglasses off his head entirely. He heard more giggles from behind but just as he was about to turn back to throw his snowball he heard a loud crack.

Shit.

With squinting eyes, he looked down to see he had stepped on his sunglasses.

Fuck welp he’s screwed now.

As he looked at his sunglasses against the harsh brightness of the snow he could already feel the pain building up behind his eyes. Hissing he leaned down and picked up his shattered glasses. He really fucked it up now, hasn’t he?

He turned around hoping Emile will be there but all he could see was bright painful snow. Squinting his eyes more he tried to scan the whiteness for the pastel pink jacket of the other. All the while the pain was only building and building.

Hissing he brought his hands to his eyes trying to block out the brightness, “Em! Em, I think I might need some help!”

“Nah, I think you're just trying to trick me. Nice one Rem!”

He heard from…somewhere. It was properly the wind carrying his voice but the second he opened his eyes the pain increased.

“No Em I’m serious. I broke my glasses!” He yelled out hoping Emile can hear him. Curse his blasted eyes.

His head was starting to kill him now. Fuck these blasted snow and winter. Why does it have to be so bright???

“Rem? Rem you okay?”

“Does it look like it, queen? No, I don’t think I am where are you?”

He tried to open his eyes yet again but yelped at the brightness whimpering as he crouched down into the snow. Where was Emile? He sounded close but he couldn’t tell. Was he gonna leave him here? Nah Em won’t do that…right?

Just as he thought that he heard loud crunches of boots on snow and a worried voice followed by a hand on his shoulder.

“Oh, Jesus Rem I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. Here I got you. Let’s go home now does that sound?”

His teeth gritted together as he managed to hiss out, “W-Wonderful girl…”

Even though pain he has to be sassy that’s what he lived for honestly. One thing he noticed was the slight lack of concern from the other's voice, well most people would hear that lack of emotion, but Remy, on the other hand, has been with Emile long enough to hear it. Emile just has a hard time expressing his emotions under pressure often not showing them at all until he breaks, something Remy has had to get used to he has to admit. But it wasn't that hard considering his condition.

That hand was replaced by another as he felt another on his shoulder. He was leaning against something warm, a chest, as he was directed towards some direction. He couldn’t move his hands away from his eyes but he leaned as much as he could into the chest. Slowly he tried to open his eyes to see Em but he cried out in pain as soon as he did. Great now he was shaking fuck.

“No, no Rem don’t open your eyes. Don’t hurt yourself. Here.”

He felt a soft fabric around his neck then his eyes. Just as he wondered what the hell his boyfriend was doing he opened his eyes slightly to see…something had covered his eyes?

Softly he touched it to realize it was Emile's scarf.

“There you go. You want to grab my hand now Rem?”

Despite knowing the fact that he might seem desperate he nodded his head. He hated this. He hated being blind like this. He hated the massive headaches and the constant harshness of the light. He just wanted to see normally. To see his boyfriend normally. But feeling him there helped somewhat at least.

Before his hand could search for the others he felt a warmth in his hand. Gripping it hard he smiled, “Thanks Em.”

“Of course no problem Rem. Just hang on we’re almost home. You have a spare glasses right?”

“Uh…. I’m not sure honestly babes…”

“That’s fine no worries. Is your head okay?”

He tried to shake his head but nope that only resulted in more pain, “Yep just wonderful…” He popped the ‘p’ there.

There was something in his hair but before he could pull away he realized it was lips. His hand tightened around the others as Emile whispered back.

“Don’t worry I’ll take care of you. Just wait until we get back home. I really am sorry I should have been more careful.”

Remy laughed, “How is it your fault? It’s my fucked up eyes fault, not yours. Don’t feel bad about this that’ll only make me feel worse baby.”

“I’m sorry… I just wish I could do something to help you-”

Remy tried to lean upwards to kiss the taller man though he was struggling a bit he managed to kiss his chin, “You're already helping me now let’s stop this before it gets any cheesier. Where are we?”

“Right around the corner from home.”

“Well thank fuck for that. I’m tired already of not seeing your beautiful face.”

Remy smirked as Emile laughed, it was way too easy to make Emile blush. If only he could see it.

“Would you stop that. You're sounding like Roman for Diamond sake.”

“Oh don’t bring my brother into this, please. But hey he does have some great pick up lines even you have to admit.”

“Yeah… Whatever you say, Rem.” Though even Remy could hear the smile in his voice.

Just as Remy was about to say something else they came to a stop causing Remy to almost crash into Emile.

“Oh sorry sorry, we’re here remember the steps.”

“Yeah yeah I’m not a kid I know.”

“Well I know you know I just wanted to make sure!” He could hear the pout in his voice as they made it up the slippery steps.

Once they made it to the door he heard Emile fiddle with something, his keys by the sound of it and opened the door quickly. His hand grabbed his once again as he was gently pulled inside. As soon as he did he took off the scarf from his eyes but winched at the lights that were on hissing a bit.

“Wait! I didn’t tell you to take it off! Hang on a moment curse me for turning on the lights before we left.”

Remy groaned as he rubbed his eyes his entire head was throbbing by this point. It felt like a battlefield was going on in his head. He couldn’t even place a single thought down as he felt hands taking off his jacket and bag.

All he could do was breathe as he was pulled towards…somewhere he didn’t even care where at this point. He heard a voice but it sounded like speakers were placed right by his ears and we’re turned up full blasts.

“Stop stop stop!!!”

He couldn’t even tell where the voice was coming from nor what it was saying. But just as soon as he said that it stopped to his pleasure.

Taking a shaky breath he was pulled down onto something comfy. Something soft. The couch? It must be.

His knees were brought to his chest and he placed his head between his knees as he tried to get the ringing to stop. As he tried to get something to stop. Everything to stop he wasn’t even sure what. All he knew was that his head felt like it was going to explode.

He felt gentle hands guiding him to lay down on the comfy surface. He whimpered at that not wanting to move but the hands were insistent.

When he did he felt his head be placed on something not nearly as soft as the couch but it was definitely warmer. Before he could even relish in the warmth the pain hit him again tenfold causing him to curl into a ball and cry out.

Fuck this. Fuck all this pain. Fuck his life. Why him? Why did this have to happen to him? Is there any way to end this pain? Make it stop-

Just as he thought that he felt gentle softness on his forehead applying some sort of pressure and…scent? What was that smell?

He tried to focus on that tried to focus on anything but this harsh pain engulfing his entire head.

Soon his whimpers and cries slowly died down as the pressure seemed to take away the pain. The pleasuring scent was making him able to focus and slowly able to bring him away from his painful world to the real one.

Once the pain became a dull one he slowly opened his eyes to a very deeply concerned Emile staring down at him. He looked almost in tears.

“O-Oh would you look at my dear handsome prince…” And even as he spoke that pain seemed to creep back into his brain and his body shuttered at it.

“Sh. Don’t talk yet Remy. Just lay there please.”

As Remy blinked up at him he could definitely see there were tears in his eyes now. He squinted up at him opening and closing his mouth a few times then huffing moving his head so Emile can get to his head better.

Then he looked away unable to see the tears anymore. He caused those tears. Cause of his stupid condition he caused his babe to cry.

What great of a boyfriend he turned out to be huh?

Tears were building in his own eyes before he could stop them and he hiccuped violently. “I-I’m sorry… I-”

“No, I said don’t talk.” As if on cue that pain surged back again, “Please try to relax you know that will help. And just…don't blame yourself, Rem. I knew about this before dating you I’m okay with it it’s just….seeing you in so much pain like that always brings me to tears. I hate seeing you like that.”

“You and me both sister.”

Emile huffed, “I said no more talking.” With a sigh, he grew quiet, as they both did. But what brought Remy out of his trance was a tear suddenly landing on his cheek.

With wide eyes, he looked up to see Emile crying again this time worse as those tears leaked down his cheeks. And there's that breaking point.

“Em Em don’t cry. I’m sorry for making you cry, babe. I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry.” Even though with every movement and word sent the pain flooding back little by little he couldn’t handle seeing his partner like this no matter the cost to him. He tried to sit up so he could kiss Emile but that only resulted in the world titling.

He felt hands on his chest now as he was pulled back down.

“Remy don’t move! I’m just... I’m sorry. I'm making this about myself while your hurting and I shouldn’t but I did this to you and now I feel bad and I-”

“Em. Em. Look at me.” He winced as one side of his face throbbed in pain but he smiled gently despite it.

“I said don’t worry about it. Stop apologizing this isn’t your fault. Please stop blaming yourself. It hurts me more knowing you do. And it’s okay that you knocked those stupid glasses off of me it was my fault for stepping on them. So if you want it’s both of our faults. How…-” He gasped in pain as now both of his sides hurt again and the world titled on its axis. It shouldn’t be doing that right?

“Rem. Rem please stop talking. Okay okay let’s blame both of us just please stop talking. Your only hurting yourself. Here take this.”

Remy looked up to the ceiling as he tried to get the world to stop turning around when he was given something small. He looked down to see a white tablet. He didn’t care if it was poison at this point as long as it’ll get the pain to stop and the world to stop turning he’ll take it. Swallowing it easily he closed his eyes as the gentle pressure started back up again.

Slowly it started to calm the world again, and his head that seems to be having a massive battlefield going on at the moment. He groaned loudly as he wanted the pain to just go away. It was taking forever to leave.

Till finally after what felt like forever either the pain stopped or the medicine worked he wasn’t sure which happened first. But before he knew it his eyes slowly closed again. He was unable to keep them open. With one more glance at Picani he hummed lightly as he pulled closer to him.

And like that he was out like a light.

[ffamranxii]

Me and dad: (talking about antibiotics in food)

Me, changing topic: Did you know if you leave the membrane on an egg you don’t have to refrigerate it and it keeps for a really long time?

Mom: LAURA! Can you stop talking talking about gross animal food? I’m EATING.

Me, in an increasingly smaller voice: I was talking about chicken eggs... which you used to make this French toast...

And then she and my father both decided my silence was anger directed at them, and not the defeat and self loathing it really was. I couldn’t finish my dinner, and my mom called after me “I wasn’t trying to piss you off but I don’t want to hear gross stuff while I’m eating.” My father said nothing, and my mother didn’t reprimand him for his part in our “gross” conversation about antibiotics.

I managed to spend half an hour out of bed today, and each time was driven right back in it by my parents. My father once again treated my cats - who he knows I consider my children after the loss of my baby - as inferior, second class citizens, below my mom’s precious cat Boots and even the furniture; and I can’t say anything without risking getting thrown out again so I just bottle it up and go sit with my kitties and apologize for what a horrible mother I am to them, that I can’t defend them or give them what they want or need, and it’s my fault they’re confined to little more than a bedroom and the attached hallway. And now this with my mom.

And to me this isn’t gross. It’s just words, and the topic is interesting. It’s not like it’s on tv in pictures, and it’s not like anyone listens to me anyway. But I’m weird and different and abnormal, and have been my entire life. I’ll talk about anything that seems remotely interesting, and if I’m not ignored, more often than not I’m told to shut up. “I don’t want to listen to this” is something I hear a lot from my parents. I can’t remember them ever taking an interest in the things I’m interested in. “Why do you know that?” is another common phrase, a “kinder” way to tell me to be quiet. I hear that several times a way.

I grew up with a father who says whatever he’s thinking, even when that thing is rude or derogatory or said in anger; and a mother who’s actually intelligent but treats me and my father like we’re idiots. Sometimes it’s warranted - my father rarely listens, can’t distinguish between tv characters and their respective actors, and inserts himself into conversations where he doesn’t belong just to hear himself speak. Sometimes I say stupid stuff or don’t grasp a concept. But it really bothers me when my mother treats me like my father. It turns a five minute conversation into twenty because she spells out every single thing and doesn’t listen to what I’m actually saying.

And then they decided long ago that everything I say is angry and argumentative. Or loud. If I speak half a decibel over my depression murmur I’m “yelling.” If I talk normally I’m “screaming.” If I had a penny for every time I’m told “SHHHHHH STOP YELLING” I could have left this house a decade ago. I can’t even have a normal conversation without one of them imploding that I’m pissed off and they don’t want to talk to me when I’m “like this.”

Assuming I know what a normal topic of conversation is. I’ve felt isolated from people since I was little. My parents have said around three I became sullen and withdrawn, that I “changed,” and that once I entered preschool the bullying started. I was weird. I didn’t know how to talk to people, and if I talked to them the way my parents talked to me I got in trouble. Kids didn’t want to be my friend, and I cried a lot over being alone.

It only got worse when I got older. I was told bullying peters out as people age, and the legendary “it gets better,” but neither of those are true. I was harassed so badly at my previous two jobs that I became suicidal and self harmed for the first time in six years. I was picked on for my normal speaking voice, for following directions, for trying to stand up for myself, for the way my face looks. I was told I was aggressive and confrontational, even as I was sobbing in the bathroom over an insult or as I was trying to avoid the manager who followed me all over the store screaming at me in front of customers. I attracted horrifically abusive men, who manipulated and lied to me, who cheated on me, who said things that cut me to the bone. I lost my baby because of one of them. Things don’t get better. I moved ten hours away to start my life over, and within three years it was in shambles and I was back in my parents’ house in shame.

My therapist diagnosed me with autism five years ago. I was twenty-five. I have the trifecta - autism, adhd, and anxiety. Knowing didn’t make it better. No one believed me when I told them. I had a manager at work tell me I couldn’t be autistic because “you don’t act like it.” My therapist left me shortly after. She told me my life and my problems were too much for her. That I was too much.

I get that a lot.

Every day I find new things about myself I dislike. Every day I hate myself a little more. Why can’t I be normal? Why can’t I talk to people? Why don’t I know how to act around people, and why, when I do everything right, when I copy successful people around me, am I shunned, pushed away, attacked? I’ve been asking myself these same fucking questions since I was five years old. I hate myself, so much. More and more every day. I don’t know why I keep trying. It’s been thirty years and it’s only gotten worse. I sleep fourteen hours a day and remain in bed the other ten and no one in the past year has thought to ask me “are you okay?” I feel like a glitch in the system, always there but rarely observed. My words go in one ear and out the other. I feel invisible, and the only time I pop into reality is when someone wants a target.

I don’t expect an answer here. This is fucking tumblr after all. But putting all of my dark disgusting thoughts here gets them out of my head, which is too stuffed with self loathing to hold any more of it.

[clockwork-dinosaur]

i wrote this almost two years ago now and cleaned it up last semester to turn in as an English project! i wanted to do something a little dystopian with a focus on family. i also wanted a nonbinary protagonist and an autistic character and main characters who aren’t white, and this is that! i could probably write this better now but overall i’m pretty okay with how it turned out

summary: young adult Yamni finally gets an apartment of their own; a new life for them and their younger brother. Unfortunately their past is not easily left behind and the stakes are high as they complete one final job for the criminal organization from which they escaped.

word count: ~8770

warnings: minor violence, misgendering

Yamni was used to silence in their apartment. It was often a comfortable silence, broken occasionally by the turning of a page or a cough, signs that told them that their younger brother was still awake and hadn't fallen asleep face first in his book again. Aariv wasn't one to break the silence with conversation, and nether were they.

That morning's silence wasn't comfortable. Aariv sat coldly at the dining table of the small, one-bedroom apartment they lived in, backpack at his feet and school uniform neatly pressed.

“Listen, if I had a choice, I'd send you back to Goodview, but we moved out of that school zone. I'm sure Washington is just as nice.” Yamni said softly, nibbling on the toast that both of them had every day for breakfast. Government rations didn't leave much room for variety.

Aariv shrugged miserably, breakfast untouched.

“And it's a first day for me too, remember? It's a day of firsts, we'll both get through it. When we get home tonight, we can talk about all the interesting stuff we see today, right?”

Another shrug. Yamni was used to Aariv not talking, but that morning it felt different. They decided to leave him alone, worried that they were coming across as overbearing.

“Love you, bro.” they said, standing and tossing the plastic dishes in the sink. They leaned down and hugged their brother, and he accepted the hug wordlessly, as he did most things.

“I need to go get dressed still, but I think school starts soon for you, right? Maybe you should get a move on. You'll be home before me, so I want you to do your homework as soon as you get home, alright?”

Aariv nodded, grabbed his backpack and headed slowly for the door.

“I was serious about the getting a move on part, dude.”

He sighed and walked normally. He opened the door and left the apartment, face set in an expression of wary annoyance.

Yamni sighed. Even after six years, they weren't used to playing the sole parent figure in Aariv's life. Their parents both ended up dead in a factory fire and left them with nothing. Thoughts of their parents left a bitter taste in Yamni's mouth, and they shook their head to clear it.

This morning was a fresh start. New school for Aariv. New job for Yamni. An apartment that wasn't overrun by rats and roaches. A chance to move forward, or at least give them a fighting chance to stay above-water. Yamni hoped that eventually they wouldn't rely on government assistance anymore, but that seemed unlikely.

They sighed as they pulled on the ugly jumpsuit that all factory workers were required to wear, stubbornly not thinking about the fact that it was nearly identical to the one their parents had zipped up into on that last day.

They picked up the folder on their nightstand that held their identification and everything they needed for the first day on the job. They nodded as they flipped through, making sure almost everything was filled out. The basics were all there, aside from the box labeled “gender” with two options- male and female. They left that one blank. Let their boss figure that one out.

They looked around the room one last time and nodded. Without a backwards glance, they left their apartment, locking the door behind them.

The gray factory loomed over the mag-lev train, windowless and more opposing as they got closer. Yamni felt a rare flutter of nervousness in their chest, but quickly shut it down. This was just another factory, just another job.

Unlike many of Yamni's previous jobs, this one was completely legal.

As the train whirred to a stop, Yamni straightened their back and stepped out with everyone else. They followed the crowd into the building, the scent of heated metal and gasoline quickly overwhelming them and making them nearly lightheaded. They coughed a few times.

Another worker, an older gentleman, glanced at them knowingly.

“Don't worry, ma'am. You get used to it pretty damn quick.”

Yamni nodded. “Thanks. I'm not a ma'am though.”

The man nodded slowly. “Sorry then.”

The rest of the workers were nearly silent as they took their places in the assembly line. Yamni walked through the rows of hulking machines and into the office.

“Hello, I'm Yamni Batra, this is my first day.” they said to the man behind the desk. He nodded once, typing their name into the terminal imbedded in the desk.

“Files?” he asked in a monotone. They passed them over. He didn't even glance at them before nodding.

“For now, you're on janitorial duty. That may change within the next few weeks, since this is your first day.”

Yamni nodded, already feeling boredom cloud their mind as he explained where the other cleaning staff could be found.

By the time the end of the workday rolled around, Yamni was more than happy to get back onto the crowded mag-lev train home and out of the loud, cramped factory. The jumpsuit felt too warm, and everyone bumping them made them want to scream. The hurried off the train and half-ran home through the dirty city streets. It was a cool evening, but the heat of the factory still seemed to press against their skin. They rolled their sleeves up, thinking longingly of the shower at home.

They went up the stairs to the small apartment, sighing as they got up. Yamni liked to think they had high endurance after all they've been through, but the day had taken a lot out of them and they were completely exhausted.

They turned their front door handle, bumping it a bit.

It didn't budge.

Confused, they unlocked the door, walking in to the dark apartment.

“Aariv?” they called quietly. With a pang of fear they checked the bedroom, hoping to see their younger brother in bed, his blanket pulled up to his short dark hair as it always was when he slept.

The bed was as neatly made as it was when he left for school.

Yamni's breath seemed to choke them as they looked in every corner of the tiny apartment.

“If this is some kind of joke Aariv, it isn't fucking funny!” they called, chest heaving. They scrambled for the house phone, dialing the number for Aariv's school with desperate fingers.

“Hello, Washington Middle School.” the bored voice on the other end droned.

“I'm looking for my brother, Aariv Batra. He's a student, in sixth grade.” Yamni said breathlessly, pacing.

“And you're his guardian?” the other person asked.

“Yes, Yamni Batra. Please, did he stay after school or something?”

“I can call his homeroom teacher and check for you, if you'd like?”

“Yes pl-” they started, before the on-hold tone began. They took the time to change out of the gray jumpsuit and into an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt, the phone still held to their ear. They pulled their hair back into a short ponytail. A few minutes later, the hold tone ended and the bored voice was back.

“He left with the rest of his class today. Is everything okay?”

Yamni didn't answer, bringing the call to an end with a shaking hand. Quickly, they ran out the front door, eyes wide.

Night had fallen completely, and the oppressive heat of the day had died down, the air almost freezing against their overheated skin as they traced the steps to their brother's bus stop. Yamni wasn't sure what that would accomplish, but just staying at home alone while Aariv was out there, lost or worse, was useless.

The streets were quiet, most people at home. With curfew only a few hours away, most stores were closed and nobody wanted to risk being out too late.

Their heartbeat nearly matched the speed of their footfalls on the pavement as they ran, breathing erratic from fear.

They reached his bus stop within a few minutes, looking around for anything; his backpack, him playing or waiting or lost, any sign that he was there.

The street was empty.

Yamni swallowed a scream, turning and walking back they way they came. They nearly ran up the steps to their apartment and stopped dead in front of the old, painted white door.

A familiar insignia was burned into it, crossed daggers above a rose.

They felt their heart stop. Shook their head, rubbed their eyes, anything to convince themself that they were only seeing things. Shaking fingers traced the brand, still warm beneath their fingers.

They knew where Yamni lived.

With trembling hands they opened the door, resisting the urge to scream in the empty apartment. They closed the door behind them and locked it, knowing that that action was futile. If someone really wanted to get in, one lock wouldn't stop them.

Yamni allowed themself ten minutes. They dropped to their knees on the floor, tears burning their way down their cheeks as they pressed their balled fists to their temples.

“Fuck, fuck!” they repeated in a whisper, angry and terrified.

They knew who had Aariv. Their former employers had found them.

Yamni knew that life wouldn't be easy for two orphans with nearly nothing to their name. The factory would only pay expenses for six months after the death of their parents, and after that Aariv and Yamni were on their own.

Yamni also knew that they would do anything to keep Aariv with them and out of a government orphanage, to be nothing more than a laborer for the rest of his life. After the factory stopped paying them and the bills came in, Yamni took Aariv and ran. They knew how reckless that was, but desperation made them stupid. After two months on the street, hiding from cops in back alleys and stealing old food from stores, Yamni was ready to do anything to find money for a place to stay, if only to keep Aariv safe.

Anything, including armed robbery and mugging.

That's when Daniel came along.

He looked like an easy mark. Blonde hair slicked back, suit expensive, face buried in his cell as he walked down the empty street at a leisurely pace.

Yamni, though thin, was very strong, and they didn't hesitate to pull the man aside into a back alley and press the blade of their knife to his throat.

“Your money, now!” they barked.

The man only smirked. “That your brother over there?” he asked, undisturbed by the six-inch blade that was only one muscle twitch away from severing his jugular as he tilted his jaw at Aariv, who stared out from behind a dumpster with wide, dark eyes.

“Don't you fucking look at him! Give me everything you got, now!” Yamni demanded again.

He smirked, then before Yamni could even follow his movements, he had both of their arms behind their back and their face pressed to the ground.

“Yamni!” Aariv cried, taking a step toward the two.

“Get back!” they demanded, writhing underneath the knee on their back.

“You're not scary, kid.” the man said, right in their ear. “But I can see you being quite formidable, given a bit of training. I have a business offer for you.”

Within a week, Yamni and Aariv found themselves in a compound of sorts. Though there were no official borders around the area, Yamni knew where they and their brother were supposed to be at all times. As generous as the man's offer was, he was not a good man, and they didn't want to risk crossing him.

Yamni found out exactly what kind of work offer Daniel had given them once they were instructed to put on a heavy winter coat in early fall.

“Isn't it a bit warm for this?” they asked him. He smirked.

“Well, we can't have you just carrying around a bag full of cocaine, now can we?” he laughed at Yamni's horrified expression.

“This jacket-?”

“Yes, it contains a few grams. It's a special kind of cloth, one that confuses drug sniffers. You could walk right by a police station and nobody'll bat an eye. I wouldn't recommend it though.”

“Why am I the one who has to wear it?”

“You're young and innocent-looking, kid. Nobody's going to stop you and search you for drugs. But you need to stop looking so scared or people're going to ask what's wrong. You and your brother want to stay here, right? Food and board and all that?”

Yamni nodded slowly, to Daniel's pleasure. “Then you'll do what I ask.”

That wasn't the last time they put on that jacket. After a few months, Daniel had them running more and more dangerous things, the bottom of the jacket slightly heavy under the weight of a firearm or illegal tech.

On one of Aariv's rare talkative nights, he asked them a million questions, most of which they refused to answer, the information too sensitive to be told. But Yamni knew exactly who and where much of the drug dealers in the city were. This wasn't information that a child needed, and knowledge that would get him hurt if he had it.

Yamni had idle thoughts of taking the goods for themself, selling it for a higher profit than Daniel was giving them. They knew they'd be dead within days of doing that, and Aariv as well.

So they suffered. Collected every cent that Daniel gave them. And years later, they had enough to run, to get their own apartment with their brother on the other side of town, and start their own life.

Yamni knew, deep down, that running would never have worked. Their idealistic thoughts were shattered by the silence of their apartment, the lack of her brother's warmth and presence making the cramped apartment seem huge and empty.

A few minutes passed before they wiped their tears away, taking a few deep breaths. They had nothing left to do except go back to Daniel and demand their brother back.

They shuddered as that man's face crossed their mind, a wave of revulsion tearing their stomach in two, but worry for Aariv overshadowed that.

The clock on the wall showed ten at night, an hour left until curfew. Taking the mag-lev wasn't an option, their recreational travel pass had expired years ago. With a sigh, they re-laced their work boots and headed back out the door.

Being a runner for Daniel and his crew had some benefits. Yamni knew how to get from one end of the city to the other, avoiding main traffic ways and hotspots of police activity, in under half an hour. Fear for their brother and anger at Daniel had them going faster than they had before, and before they could formulate a plan, they were in his territory. It was exactly how they remembered it, the buildings' windows dark as they walked through the empty street. They knew that they were being watched from the moment they'd stepped over the unspoken territory line. They were unsurprised when they found their path blocked by two men, faces unfriendly as they stared Yamni down. They walked up to the men confidently, jaw set and eyes hard.

“Take me to Daniel.” they demanded.

“You don't make the rules around here.” the man on the left growled.

Yamni raised an eyebrow. “Then I'll take myself to Daniel. Get out of my way.” they threatened.

“Come with us.” the man said.

“Only if we're going to Daniel.” they insisted.

“Listen here, you runaway little shit-” one man started, taking a step toward Yamni as he reached for the knife at his hip, before being interrupted by a deep voice from one of the buildings.

“That's enough, boys.” Daniel said, stepping out into the street. “I know why the little spitfire's here. Just a friendly chat, nothing more.” he said, tone friendly.

“Give me back my-” Yamni started, before Daniel raised his hand. Immediately they stopped, then scolded themselves for doing so.

“Follow me and all of your questions will be answered honestly.” he said, turning and going back into the building. Yamni followed with their jaw clenched and their fists balled.

“You try anything in there and I'll have you dead in a minute!” one of the burly men called after them. Yamni ignored him, slamming Daniel's door behind them.

“Why the hostility, my dear?” Daniel ashed innocently, hands folded behind his back as he made his way into his office.

“You know why I'm here, you fucking bastard. Give me Aariv.”

“Why all these demands? You know I'm treating him well.” Daniel said as he stood behind his desk. Yamni slammed their hands down in the desk, shaking from fury.

“That's not the point and you damn well know it.” they hissed. “Why would you even take him, you bastard? He's a child!”

Daniel grinned. “You're here, aren't you? What else would get you here so quickly?”

Yamni shuddered as they realized how easy it was to get them here, angry and with no plan. They had done exactly what he wanted them to- they had no choice but to play his game.

“What do you want from me, Daniel? I left, but you saw it coming. You didn't try and stop me. You know I’m not going to tell anyone shit because I don't fucking care and I don't want to be bothered. I'm not a loose end you need to tie up. You didn't need to drag Aariv into all of this. So why?” “Because I need you to do one last thing for me. You think you've paid off all of your debts, that you didn't owe me anything? No, my dear. You've still got quite a bit of payment left to go before I let you leave.”

“Just tell me what you want and give me back my brother.” Yamni said.

“You and your brother can leave, after you do this last thing. Consider it your final payment for the kindness I've shown you over the years.” Daniel said smugly.

“Do I have any choice?” Yamni asked.

“Ask Aariv.” Daniel replied flippantly. “Now, take a seat. There's quite a bit I need to explain, and we're actually on a bit of a schedule.”

Yamni sat in the chair across from him, their dark eyes narrowed as Daniel pulled out several sheets of paper.

“Now, my dear, I've known you for a while now. You're quite the actor. You've got a sort of... confidence about you. You seem to belong exactly where you're at. That's one of the things I've always liked about you.” Daniel started. Yamni eyed him warily. Daniel slid a photograph across the desk.

The woman in the photo stared the camera down almost like a challenge, her black hair was long and straight as it fell down the back of her neatly-pressed suit.

“She's cute. But she's got nothing to do with me.” Yamni tossed the photo back on the desk.

“That's where you're wrong, dear. See, maybe you don't see it but I certainly do, you look very similar to this woman.” Daniel said, holding the photograph up. Yamni looked over the woman again, more carefully,

“Maybe. My jaw line’s a bit stronger and her nose is more narrow, but I can almost see it. And of course, her hair is longer.” Yamni conceded.

“Yes, but with a bit of makeup and some temporary prosthetics, you'll be her twin.”

“Okay, hold on here.” Yamni said, holding up their hand. “Who is this woman? Why do I need to be her twin?”

“This is Anna Patel, the Indian ambassador.” Daniel said. “She was traveling through our city, staying in one of the nicest hotels here.”

Yamni's stomach dropped. “Was?”

“Well, now she's somewhat... held up. But we can't let her meeting with our president go unattended!” Daniel grinned.

“Are you... fuck, are you saying you want me to stand in for this woman?” Yamni asked breathlessly, heart hammering. “This foreign official? Who was meant to meet the president...?” They couldn't wrap their head around it.

Daniel nodded. “Yes.” he said simply.

“You're fucking insane. This isn't running drugs or other shit, Daniel. This is kidnapping and fucking treason. This isn't some petty illegal trade, it's grounds for execution.”  Yamni said, hands balled into fists on the arms of the chair.

“This is big, my dear! Don't you understand who would pay for information directly from the president's meetings?” Daniel said intensely, his blue eyes bright.

“You've fucking lost it, man. I can't do this! I may be good at shedding crocodile tears to get out of some shitty situations, but this is miles out of my league!” The light in Daniel's eyes scared them. They knew he wouldn't be convinced of the futility of his plan.

“You can, dear! I know you can. And I'm sure Aariv is confident in your ability as well.” Daniel leaned back in his chair, a smug smile on his face as Aariv's name cut through Yamni.

“Let me see him.” Yamni sighed. “Then I'll decide.”

“You're acting like you've got a choice. You will do this. I decide when you see your brother, not you. Consider this a bit of a punishment for running away in the first place.”

“Fuck you.” Yamni spat.

“Not interested. Time is of the essence, my dear. The train the dear ambassador is supposed to be on leaves at six in the morning and we've got quite a bit to go over before you're ready to go. Are you willing to take her place?” Daniel said, standing and offering his hand to shake Yamni's.

Yamni glared, shaking his hand once with a bit more force than absolutely necessary.

“Doesn’t really matter if I'm willing or not, does it?” they asked bitterly.

“This whole operation will go much more smoothly if you are.” Daniel replied. He walked around the desk and put his arm around Yamni's, much to their discomfort. “Now, I'm going to take you to a makeup artist or sorts. A bit more... high-profile than your average cosmetologist of course, but same basic job, right? And while she's making your face all different, I'll explain exactly what you need to do.”

“Fine.” Yamni sighed, indignant as Daniel led them out of the house and down the street with his arm still around their shoulders.

Yamni let out a sigh of relief when Daniel told them to wait at the base of the set of stairs, leading up to another, nearly identical house. He knocked on the door and a tall, imposing woman answered, her long brown hair pulled into a ponytail. She grinned widely when she saw Daniel at the door.

“Hia, Danny-boy! What can I do for you?” she asked.

“My dear Yamni needs a bit of a makeover! They're the one who's taking the trip for us tomorrow.” he replied. The tall woman looked Yamni over, then nodded.

“He could work pretty well as our stand in.” she said with a nod.

“I'm not a he.” Yamni corrected automatically.

“They?” she asked. Yamni nodded.

“You can't correct people like that while you're standing in for the ambassador.” Daniel said coldly.

Yamni's jaw clenched. “I know that, I'm not a fucking idiot.” they snapped.

“Why don't we take this inside!” the tall woman said, falsely cheery. She led the two inside, closing the door behind Yamni.

“My name is Isa, by the way. It's nice to meet you.” the woman said.

“Yamni.” they said with a polite nod.

“I completely understand the whole correcting people when they call you by the wrong pronoun thing, by the way.” she said with a knowing smile. “It becomes second nature. And it's my personal opinion that you should keep correcting them.” she paused. “Though Daniel's right. Not while you're playing the ambassador.”

“Is now really the time?” Daniel asked, impatience tinging his voice. “We've got less than seven hours before that train leaves and I've still got a lot to explain.”

“Before you explain anything, I need to do some work here. You do look a lot like the ambassador hon, but you still need to be fitted with some prosthetic facial enhancers, and, well...” she mimed breasts, cupping her hands over her chest. “Ya know? So that's gonna happen first, okay? And the fewer people in the room for that, the better.”  Isa said pointedly. “You know where the living room is, Danny.” she said sweetly, putting her hand on Yamni's shoulder and leading them into another room, filled with containers haphazardly stacked on shelves and filled to the brim with what Yamni could only assume were costume supplies.

She sighed as she she closed to door. “I fuckin' hate him.” she muttered.

“Then why do you stay?” Yamni asked.

“He helps pay for things I need. Hormone replacement isn't cheap. I can deal with him though. He's just a fucking prick is all.” she shrugged. “And I'd rather not be aiding a damn criminal, but... sometimes a situation's out of my control.” she paused and looked at Yamni with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry. I talk a lot. Let's get started.” she said, rooting through one of the boxes. “Do you bind your chest or are you naturally flat-chested?” she asked.

“Uh.” Yamni said, slightly uncomfortable as heat rose up their neck.

Isa paused. “I'm sorry. This is going to be pretty awkward, but if you're figured out as an imposter, it's your head on the line. Daniel's covering his tracks. You're the one who's going to take one for the team, and it's not even your team.” she sighed. “I want to help you not get caught and killed because of Daniel's crazy scheme. It's the least I can do, right?”

Yamni nodded. “Thank you. This is so different than anything I've ever done, I'll need all the help I can get.” they admitted. “And I'm naturally somewhat flat-chested.”

“A-cup?” Isa asked, looking through the box.

“Yeah.”

Isa nodded. “I'm definitely going to have to give you prosthetics then. They won't bother you or anything, will they? You know, dysphoria-wise?”

Yamni shook their head. “Not with such a short time. And I feel like I'll be... preoccupied mentally, with everything else. I'll be fine.” Isa nodded again.

“Aaaand you're pretty small, so there might need to be a bit more padding in the clothes. You're just about the same height as the ambassador, so you won't need heels or anything, that's good. Flats are easier to walk in... or run, if you need to.” As she spoke, Isa gathered clothes, makeup, and other things Yamni didn't quite see into a pile on a table.

“Now, try this on if you wouldn't mind, there's a screen over there.” Isa said, handing Yamni a professional-looking business dress and blazer. “I just need to see where I should add some padding and such. Luckily, you'll only be standing in for the ambassador for one day, so you'll only need one set of professional clothes.” Yamni nodded and changed quickly, looking in the mirror with distaste.

Isa looked at them critically. “You look like a kid playing dress-up.” she said bluntly. Yamni opened their mouth to argue, but Isa raised her hand, shaking her head. “That isn't your fault, and I'm not trying to be rude. The ambassador has fifteen years on you, give or take, and you're still not padded out. And you're still growing.”

“I'm twenty-three.” Yamni said.

“Oh. I mean, I was close. I thought you were like seventeen, for cristssake. Twenties or not, you're still too young to be doing this.” She muttered.

“I wish I didn't have to.” Yamni snorted.

“If... you don't mind me asking, why are you doing it then? You ran off before, why not go again, start over. Maybe leave the city if you can.”

“Daniel, that bastard, has my eleven-year-old brother. Won't even let me see him until I do this.” Yamni's blood began boiling, speaking through clenched teeth. “I have no choice.”

Isa's eyes were wide. “I knew he wasn't a good man... But kidnapping a child? That's a new level of low.” she shook her head. “I'm so sorry, Yamni. I'll do my damnedest to make sure you get through this.”

“Thank you.” Yamni said with a sigh. “I just can't wait for this shit to be over.”

“I understand. Let's get on with the padding and such, okay? And in a few days you'll be home and you never have to think of any of this ever again.” Isa said, smiling as encouragingly as possible. Yamni returned the smile halfheartedly.

An hour later, Yamni couldn't recognize the person looking at them in the full-length mirror. That person was at least thirty, with wider hips and larger breasts than Yamni had. That person was decidedly feminine. Yamni glared, a facial expression that was decidedly theirs.

“Well, you may not like it, but you absolutely look like the ambassador when you don't have that murderous expression on your face.” Isa said, looking at her handiwork. “The makeup is extremely long lasting, believe me. You'll definitely be fine for one train ride and meeting.” she said. “Now to show the completed product to Daniel.” she opened up the door, and walked out, presenting Yamni with a flourish.

“It took you long enough.” Daniel said, stern look directed at Isa.

Isa waved her hand nonchalantly. “You can't rush these things, Danny-boy. And Yamni here looks exactly like our dear ambassador, amiright? You have to admit, I did a fantastic job.”

“That you did.” he admitted. “Now, it's time to talk about what you need to do.” He sat in one of Isa's plush living chairs casually, crossing his legs comfortably.

“Are you discussing this in my house?” Isa asked, eyebrows raised.

“It's not like I can take them elsewhere at the moment. The transport won't be taking Yamni to the train station with the decoy guards until six in the morning. It's past curfew.” Daniel said smugly.

“That's never stopped you before.” Isa challenged.

Daniel stood and opened up his dark blue blazer, showing the 10mm on his hip.

“You really want to argue with me, Isabelle?” he asked casually. Yamni watched Isa freeze, her eyes wide.

“Daniel, for fuck's sake!” Yamni cried. “Put that way, you're scaring her for no reason, you asshole!”

A silent, tense moment passed before Daniel let his jacket fall, sitting back down. He gestured at the couch in front of him. “Sit.”

Yamni sat stiffly on the couch.

“You can leave, Isa.” he said, waving her off. Isa left without a word.

“You're a fucking prick, you know that?” Yamni said.

Daniel shrugged. “That doesn't matter. What matters is you getting the information I need.”

“What made you go from small-time smuggler to a fucking kidnapping anti-government spy and criminal informant?” Yamni hissed.

“The money, my dear! I can get millions for any government information, anything that will help other groups cause some trouble and unrest.”

“You're going to help the anti-government crazies for money? I mean, I know you're a greedy dick, but that seems a bit too high-stakes, even for you.”

“Well, consider this then- the more general unrest there is, the more people will want to feel protected with weapons, or want to feel calmer with some self-medication. More business for me.”

Yamni shook their head. “You're fucking nuts, man.”

“So says you. But we aren't talking about me right now, miss ambassador Anna Patel. You need to nail down her mannerisms and voice perfectly.” he said.

“I'm no actor.” Yamni said bitterly.

“Anyone can learn with a bit of persuasion. I've got a few videos and such here, and those will explain her political affiliations and opinions as well.” Daniel said, pulling out his cell and enabling the  hologram screen.

“I don't think watching some videos is going to help me here, Daniel.” Yamni said doubtfully.

“Well you'd better learn all you can, my dear. We don't have too long until your transport leaves. You've got to learn all you can.”

Yamni glared as the video started. The ambassador's voice was a bit lower than theirs, and had more force behind it than Yamni had. Yamni could hear her years of experience in her voice.

“You are rather lucky though, the ambassador isn't expected to speak so much in this meeting, she's only there to represent her country, not to give a speech. You could play off any vocal issues as a sore throat.” Daniel said, as he loaded up another video.

“I think I understand her voice now.” Yamni said, trying out speaking in the unfamiliar voice. They felt absolutely ridiculous.

“Hm. Almost. You need more conviction behind it, maybe just a bit lower. And don't make that face while you speak, you need make everything look natural.”

“When the hell did you become a professional actor?” Yamni said, dropping the voice. “I can't do this, it's useless and far too risky.”

“It won't be useless if you pull this off without an issue, and it's not risky if you do everything I say.” Daniel said, standing and glaring at Yamni, finger jabbing the air as he made his point. “Now, you will do this, my dear. Any more dissension and Aariv will face the consequences.” Yamni's blood went cold and they nodded, jaw clenched.

“Now,” Daniel said as he sat down, “this video will better explain the ambassador's mannerisms when confronted with views she disagrees with...”

Yamni's nerves spiked as six in the morning approached. They looked at the clock with a pounding heart as Daniel stood.

“Well miss Patel, good luck in your meeting with the president.” Daniel said with a kind smile. Internally, Yamni shuddered, but plastered a friendly smile on their face as Daniel stood.

“And of course, one last thing.” he said, pulling a box out of his pocket. He took a step closer to Yamni, a few inches too close for comfort. “You need to wear this of course. Your clothes already have bioscanner tricks in them, I made sure. But this will make everything one hundred percent certain.” He smiled as he gently moved the long black wig from the back of Yamni's neck and clasped a small round pendant around their neck. It felt strangely warm on their skin and far too heavy for its size.

“And this will act as a very high-quality recording device.” he said, taking Yamni's wrist and slipping a bracelet on. “To start it, simply twist the gem.” he said, tapping it. Every touch from Daniel made Yamni's skin crawl, and as soon as they were able, they took a step back.

Daniel looked at his watch with a smile. “Your transport to the train station is almost here, miss Patel. You'd better get ready to go.”

Isa stepped into the room hesitantly. She refused to look at Daniel as she stepped up to Yamni, handing them a purse.

“This has makeup and such in it, if you need to touch anything up.” she said stiffly. She softened a bit as she focused on Yamni. “Good luck, Yamni.”

They nodded. “Thank you again, Isa. For everything.”

“Enough. It's time for you to head out, your transport is here and you don't have time for this.”

Yamni took a deep breath, clutching the strap of the purse to feel grounded. They had no clue what to expect, but Aariv's life depended on them. They took another deep breath, straightened their back, and walked out the front door.

The car waited for them in front of Isa's house, black and slick in the early morning light. Yamni walked with as much confidence as they could manage, stepping into the car. The man behind the wheel glared. Yamni glared right back, recognizing the man from the night before.

“I can't wait to never see you again.” Yamni said.

“Fuck off.” the man replied, and he began driving.

“How'd Daniel manage to get a car anyway? You need a government pass and a shit-ton of money for private vehicles.” Yamni said, after twenty minutes, the curiosity overtaking their dislike of the man.

“This is your car, ambassador Patel.” the man said sarcastically.

“Daniel stole this car? Are you fucking serious?”

“Kidnapping the ambassador was a bit more complicated than originally thought, and we needed a quick get away. Now are you going to shut up and let me focus or are you going to bother me the whole way to the train station?”

Yamni leaned back in the seat, staring out the window at the passing buildings that reached for the sky and scrapped the clouds. It had been years since they'd been in a car, and they were enjoying the ride despite the situation. Sadness wrapped around their throat when they realized how much Aariv would have enjoyed the ride as well.

The ride was over far too quickly for Yamni's comfort. They stepped out of the car into the crowded station, the large man cutting through the crowd, acting as Yamni's body guard. Yamni let themself slip into the role of Anna Patel, walking confidently and not making eye contact with anyone as they walked onto the posh government car of the train.

Aariv could speak, if he really wanted to. He rarely saw a reason to, and he was silent even as he was grabbed from behind and pulled into a back alley. He didn't call for help as he was shoved into the back of a black car with heavily tinted windows, and it didn't occur to him to do anything than stare, dazed and afraid, at the driver. The burly man didn't look at the boy as he pulled out of the alley with a screech of tires, nobody around to notice as the illegal car sped down the road and away from Aariv's home.

When he was pulled from the car by a man twice as tall as he was, he didn't say anything.

When he was presented to Daniel without a word from the henchman, he didn't say anything.

When Daniel stared him down, one eyebrow raised and a smug expression on his face, he finally spoke.

“Fuck you.”

Daniel laughed once, a harsh bark that cut through the room. “That's it? That's what you're gonna greet me with? Goddamn, you're just like your sibling.” The man stood, walking around his neat mahogany desk and pinching the boy's chin between his fingers.

“Listen here, brat. You're expendable here. You're a pawn. You, I don't need. Your sibling is the one I’m trying to get a hold of. And any minute now, Yamni will come through that door, spitting fire, and they will do everything I say. Wanna know why?” he asked, leaning in close. The boy's deep brown eyes bored into the older man's.

“Because, if they don't I will kill you. I will kill you slowly and make them watch every single second. And if you're rude I might just do it anyway. So don't fuck with me, kid.”

With that, Daniel let go of Aariv. Aariv didn't react, only watching with a deep frown as Daniel walked back around his desk and sat in his plush leather office chair. Daniel gave him a wide smile, throwing his arms open in welcome.

“Welcome back, kid.”

Aariv said nothing, of course. He had very little contact with Daniel, even while Yamni was working for him. All he knew was that he was a very bad man, cunning and ruthless. Yamni never admitted it but Aariv could tell- they were afraid of him. After they took Aariv and left, they seemed happier than he had seen them since before their parents died.

Aariv's frown deepened. Coming back wouldn't be good for Yamni, and whatever Daniel needed them for was bound to take a toll on them. For the first time since being thrown in that terrifying position, Aariv was afraid.

The next hour was spent in silence. Aariv staring Daniel down as the man went about his own business undisturbed by the murderous stare of the eleven year old boy. It wasn't until a man came in, his face set in a permanent scowl saying that they were here, did Daniel look at Aariv again. He seemed to make a split-second decision and pointed at Aariv.

“Take him downstairs. Don't let him make a sound.” With that, Daniel left the room, leaving Aariv with the angry man.

Aariv opened his mouth, but before he could scream or call out, the man's fist lashed out and everything went dark.

It took a moment for Aariv to remember what happened to him. He sat up quickly, a soft blanket falling off of his shoulders as he blinked into the dimly lit room. He was on a soft couch, a pillow underneath him and a blanket wrapped around him. A woman sat on a chair nearby, looking nearly as caught off guard as Aariv felt.

“Hia,” the woman said, her low voice comforting. Aariv only stared at her, sitting up on the couch and kicking the blanket off.

“Uh, I'm Isa,” she said. “I know you're Aariv, Yamni's brother. And I know you must be scared.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I'm sorry that you and Yamni are in this situation, but Yamni will be back soon, and you both can go on your way, safely.” She gave the boy her best reassuring smile. Aariv didn't react.

“Are you thirsty?” she asked. Aariv hesitated before nodding once.

“Is water okay?”

Another nod. Isa stood with a nod of her own and headed off to her kitchen, leaving Aariv alone to look around. Folded on a nearby table were Yamni's clothes, their boots sitting neatly on top. Aariv felt tears well up in his eyes. His head hurt and he didn't know where Yamni was, he was kidnapped and scared and suddenly it was all too much. With a gasp he broke into sobs, deep shaking breaths wracking his small frame as he hugged his knees close to his chest and let the tears flow.

Isa returned with wide yes, the water bottle in her hand all but forgotten as she sat next to the crying child.

“Oh hon, please don't cry, everything will be okay,” she muttered softly, rubbing Aariv's back in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. Aariv tolerated her touch, too caught up in his emotions to stop her anyway. He felt alone, even as the nice woman rubbed his back and cooed soft words.

He cried for ten long minutes, and part of him realized in a detached sort of way that he hadn't cried so much since his parents died. That thought brought on another wave of tears and another wound of comforting words from Isa.

Finally, the tears trickled to a stop. He took a few deep breaths that hitched in his throat. Isa offered him the water bottle, slightly closer to room temperature, and he took it gratefully.

Isa looked at the clock. “Yamni should be- no, will be back within the hour,” she said with a warm smile. “You're almost home free, kiddo, don't worry, okay?”

Aariv didn't bother to nod, and instead laid back down, his eyes watching the clock as the seconds ticked slowly by.

Yamni left the meeting room with shaking legs, flanked on both sides by body guards. Their mind reeled, trying to comprehend the things that were said in that meeting.

Daniel truly had no idea what he had thrown Yamni into.

The guards escorted Yamni back to the ambassador's car quickly, not letting anyone take a clear picture of them or letting anyone stop them for questions. Yamni hadn't needed to talk through the meeting, only turning on the recording device when it began and switching it off with shaking hands when everything was said and done.

The ride back to Daniel's place was silent aside from the rumble of the asphalt underneath the tires. Yamni only stared at the bracelet recording device that felt like it weighed several tons hanging from their wrist. Their chest felt too tight, their skin too warm and their clothes too constricting in the confines of the car. They had the overwhelming urge to throw themself, and the recorded meeting on them, out of the moving vehicle.

The only thing that stopped them was Aariv. The miles between them and their brother seemed to stretch on for years, until finally they turned down a familiar street and Yamni saw Daniel, his entire demeanor smug as the car rolled to a stop.

Yamni stepped out, their face already set in a glare as they looked up at Daniel up on the top of the stairs. He smiled down at them and threw his arms open.

“Now was that so hard?” he asked, before turning to the door and waving them to follow. Yamni did follow, their fists clenched and teeth gritted as Daniel swaggered into his office and sat at his desk. He held his hand open with a giddy expression. Yamni hesitated.

“You don't know what was said in that meeting, do you?” they asked, their voice low.

Daniel shrugged. “All I know is that it was some sort of exclusive thing, no press allowed inside. Anything said in there must be pretty damn important,” he said. “Now, give me the bracelet.”

“Daniel... this... oh, fucking hell.” Yamni dropped their glare. “Daniel, this information needs to go public, not just to the highest bidder. This is fucked up,” they nearly pleaded.

“I don't care,” Daniel said flippantly, but Yamni registered the doubt that flitted across his face.

“People could die,” they cried. “Daniel, they want to sent a bomb- a fucking nuclear bomb- across the ocean. They want to take out several countries, this will affect, no, this will fucking murder millions!” they shouted.

Daniel stared at Yamni, who gave him a terrified, pleading look in return. Daniel's expression hardened.

“That's not really any of our concern then, is it?”

Yamni blinked.

“Do you really think this won't affect us? Are you really such a stone cold bastard that you can't see that millions of people are going to die-”

“Shut up!” he shouted suddenly, standing and leaning over his desk to get in Yamni's face.

“This information is worth far more than I could have expected. Do you know how much the media would pay for this?”

“Do you know how fast the government would shut down every media station in the entire country?” Yamni spat back.

Daniel leaned back, sitting in his chair and tapping his fingers together thoughtfully.

“War. All-out atomic war. That would be bad for business,” he said quietly. Yamni gave him a dubious look, but didn't interrupt him as he seemed to speak to himself.

“I need to sell this information. I need to stop this from happening as well.” He looked up at Yamni. “No. You need to stop this from happening,” he said.

Yamni shook their head.

“No, I've done my bit. You need to deal with this yourself, I'm fucking done with your plans. I can't do anything anyway.”

“You do care and you know it,” Daniel said, standing again. “You, Ambassador Patel, can do something.” He looked at his watch. “It's still pretty early in the afternoon, you could easily get an audience with the President and make sure nothing bad happens.”

“You're fucking kidding me,” Yamni snorted. “You're nuts, I can't just walk into the president's office. What would I even do?”

“Kill him, obviously.”

Yamni laughed, a desperate giggle that that had no control over. “Of all the idiotic and downright impossible plans I’ve heard, that is by far the worst. I'm no damn assassin, Daniel.”

“Yamni, you could stop this war from happening. If the president's gone-” Daniel started before Yamni shook their head.

“You don't understand, they're all behind it. The vice president, the whole cabinet, every single ambassador in that room knew exactly what would go down.” Yamni shook their head again. “There is nothing we can do at all, Daniel.” Hopelessness made their voice crack, and for the first time in a long time, they sounded young.

Daniel took a step back. “I could make you do this,” he said casually. “Your brother is over at Isa's house, but I could easily send dome men over-”

“Fuck you! You don't understand, you bastard! I could kill the president, I could kill the vice president too, and this will still happen! Too many higher-ups are involved.” Tears streaked down their face, makeup rubbing away as they swiped at their eyes. “Everything is so fucked.”

Daniel slunk back to his desk and sat heavily in the chair. “When?” he asked.

“Next month,” Yamni said.

Daniel nodded. “Alright. I have an idea. I have a lot or connections, connections abroad, connections in the media. I can get this story out, and make a fortune off of it.”

“You really are such a greedy bastard,” Yamni sighed, unsurprised. “You could just give the information away, but you're still going to try and profit off of this.”

“That's business.”

Yamni shook their head. “You know what? I don't care. What the fuck ever, do what you want. I just want to go home with Aariv.” Exhaustion seemed to weigh them down suddenly. Daniel nodded once, sending a quick message, presumably to Isa.

A few minutes later, quick footsteps echoed down the hall and Daniel's office door was thrown open.

“Yamni!” Aariv fried, launching himself into his sibling's arms and squeezing them tight.

“Aariv,” they breathed, feeling his warmth and breathing easily for the first time in what felt like their entire life. “Are you okay?”

Aariv didn't reply, still clinging to Yamni with all the strength in his young arms.

“He wasn't hurt too badly, though there was an incident... Well, he is fine,” Daniel assured Yamni, who only glared in response. Isa nodded.

“He's okay, I took care of him.”

“We're going home,” Yamni said, picking their brother up.

“You need to change first,” Isa reminded them gently. Yamni looked down at their professional outfit and glared. With a scowl at Daniel, they handed Aariv off to Isa.

“Don't let him touch Aariv,” Yamni said, voice low. Isa nodded, and Yamni went around her, grabbing their clothes from the living room and locking themself in the bathroom.

Yamni had never changed their clothes so quickly. Everything about Danel's home was sickeningly familiar and they couldn't get out sooner. The threw the professional clothes in a corner and threw the door open. Daniel gave Yamni a smugly knowing smile. His demeanor radiated that he would be seeing Yamni again soon. Isa handed Aariv over quickly and, with a final glare at Daniel, left.

“Are we going home?”

Yamni flinched. Aariv's voice was weak and shaking from emotion and discomfort. They could tell he would take a while to recover from the ordeal.

“Yeah dude, we're going home.”

“Is it safe?”

Yamni had no idea how to answer that.

[cutaepatootie]

Notorious - 01

Pairing: Taehyung | Reader Genre: Angst, future Smut & a bit of Fluff... Word Count: 8k

Summary: Kim fucking Taehyung was notorious for being a pranker, a player and an asshole, and you hated him for it.

A/N: hey guys! So this is the story I’ve been writing this past week. Let me know what you think of it and if you liked it :)

01 | 02 | 03 | 04

"Okay, guys!" Lana, your drama teacher, shouted through the theatre, walking down the aisle in between the two rows of seats. "Listen, please."

She was a middle aged woman, with curly long hair and baggie hippie clothes. But you loved her because she was the sweetest woman you had ever met, a smile always drawn in her lips and her eyes shining under the lights of the theatre.

You closed your script and sat down next to your friends in the middle of the stage.

"She looks happier today" Hobi murmured.

"She's always happy, Hobs." you said laughing a bit.

"But last week she seemed... I don't know." Elizabeth said, her blue eyes fixed in the boy that was entering the theatre. You rolled your eyes when you saw who it was: Im Jaebum.

"Stressed?" You said, your voice louder than before, snapping your best friend our of her trance. Her eyes left Jaebum and stared at you.

"Yeah, stressed." she smiled softly, knowing that she had been caught red handed.

"No wonder, her main character broke his leg last week in his basketball training." Hobi said, his eyes fixed in Jaebum too.

Since you joined the drama group four years ago you had been best friends with Hoseok and Liz. They were everything you didn't have at school. They were funny, crazy, freaks and they accepted you for who you were: funny, crazy and a freak. Being in the drama group on Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoons had really helped you. In fact, you had become friends with nearly everyone in the group, Jaebum included. Or at least he was included until he broke Liz's heart that summer.

He broke their one year relationship in July so he could fuck some random girl during summer holidays. Two months later, your friend wasn't still over it.

Your last year at high school had started the previous week, and the new drama season too. That meant you had to prepare a new play. As Lana had announced, you would be playing Grease that year. The roles had been distributed randomly, and when you took your hand out of the bag that contained the papers with the different characters and you looked at the small paper you wanted to die. Sandy was written on it. You had never been a main character before, but you could deal with it. What you couldn't deal with was with Im Jaebum - as you and Hobi called him - being the other main character: Danny.

But you got lucky a couple of days after the distribution of the characters, because Jaebum appeared with a broken leg and a wheelchair, which meant that he couldn't play Danny's character. Lana started to panic because all the characters were already distributed and she had lost his main character and one of her best actors.

Jaebum stopped his wheelchair just next to Lana, in front of the scenario where all of you were sitting.

"I've found a substitute for Jaebum to play Danny's character," she announced, clapping her hands before her.

You and your teammates started to whisper about who could it be. Would it be that boy that quitted a couple of years ago? Would it be a new boy?

"But..." she started speaking again, looking at her watch. "He's a little bit late, he should have already been he-"

A loud noise spread through the theatre, the acoustic of the room making the noise reverberate again and again. You snapped your head up to find a boy rushing into the room. The back of the theatre was dark and you couldn't really recognise him.

"What a way of making a good impression..." Hobi whispered in your ear.

"He must be one of those assholes that think they're the centre of the World." Liz said, supporting Hobi's theory about the new boy.

"Maybe he's not like that. I'm always running late to everywhere and I'm not that bad..." you murmured, making your friends laugh a bit.

When you looked again at the front of the theatre, the boy was already next to Lana, apologising to her for being late - you supposed. But you didn't think about that twice, because the only thing you were thinking of in that moment was that you wanted Im Jaebum playing Danny again.

"Oh fucking hell," you cursed under your breath, making Hobi's head turn to look at you.

"What's wrong?" he whispered back, tapping your knee to catch your attention. "Do you know him?"

You had run out of words as you saw the red mop of hair, the boxy smile and those arrogant eyes. Kim fucking Taehyung.

"I can't fucking believe it. Is there a place in this world where I can run away from him?" you said, sounding a bit desperate. Hobi and Liz frowned, confused because of your weird behaviour. You hide your face behind your hands, wanting to disappear. You prayed in that moment, you prayed so that asshole wouldn't recognise you.

"Oh. My. Fucking. God," you heard Liz's voice then. She had recognised him too. Even though she didn't go to your same high school, you had told her and Hobi about Kim fucking Taehyung and his stupid gang. Assholes... "Is Kim fucking Taehyung, isn't he?"

"What?!" Hobi snapped then, realising too who the boy with red hair was.

"This must be a joke," you kept saying, still not believing what was going on.

"Well guys, this is Taehyung. He'll replace Jin as Danny," Lana said with her usual smile wider than ever. Her kind eyes looked at each one of you, but she was so happy she didn't noticed your angry and desperate face at the same time.

"Hi!" everyone said to greet the red haired boy.

His boxy smile widened until his big dark eyes landed on someone. You.

His smile disappeared from his face as your eyes locked, all the colour draining from his face all of the sudden. No one noticed it but you were as pale as he was. It was just for a brief moment, because the smile quickly reappeared on his face and he readjusted himself. His eyes remained on yours, challenging you. You tried not to divert your gaze away from his first, but you couldn't stand it anymore.

"What is he doing here?" Hobi asked you, providing you the best excuse to stop looking at Taehyung without losing the stare contest.

"I don't fucking know, Hobs," you sighed, as Taehyung kept introducing himself. You looked everywhere, avoiding him.

"Y/N," you suddenly heard your name coming from Lana's mouth. "Why don't you introduce yourself to Taehyung since you'll be playing the main characters?"

Your eyes landed on the boy again, his smile still drawn on his lips but not reaching his eyes.

"Sure," you shrugged. "I'm Y/N." You simply said, making Taehyung's smile grow wider. Bastard.

He and his stupid friends had been your classmates since you were six. When you went to primary school, they went with you, and when you started high school, they went with you too. In fact, they hadn't always been assholes, when you were younger you even played with them sometimes. But they were always boys, and when you are a nine year old girl, boys are gross to you. It all went down during your first year of high school, when a new boy arrived. His name was Jungkook. At first you though he simply was quiet and distant, but when the teacher seated him next to you and told you he was autistic you understood everything. He was a bit weird, and he sometimes did really weird things like looking at you for an entire class, not even looking away once or trotting around the classroom waving his ruler in the air as if he was brandishing a sword; but you grew fond of him. He felt comfortable around you and you felt comfortable around him, because you could finally be yourself without worrying about him finding you weird like the rest of your "friends" did.

When you started spending your breaks with Jungkook and going out with him instead of your group of friends, the rest of the class started making fun of you both - that group of "friends" included. But above all, Taehyung and his friends. They would laugh at you each time you walked through the corridors with Jungkook, they would put little hearts with Jungkook's name on them in your locker. On Valentine's Day, they would even buy you a present, putting Jungkook's name on it and leaving it on your table. That day Jungkook got so angry, his mom had to pick him up from school and he didn't attend class for the rest of the week. Taehyung's group - him being the leader of it all - would always tease him about being in love with you and they would tease you, saying you were his girlfriend and that you were a bitch for taking advantage of someone like Jungkook.

With time, you both learned to ignore them, turning blind eye against the comments and pranks. Of course they didn't stop picking on you, but it stopped bothering you. That's why you joined the drama group in the centre of town, to have a place where it all would stop, where you could have a moment away from the laughs and comments.

It was a small town, but you didn't think that he had joined that same drama group on purpose. Or at least, his reaction when he saw you had told you that he didn't expect you there either.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," the bastard said, his boxy smile wider than ever.

"He looks like the Devil himself, with that awful red hair," Hobi said, trying to make you laugh. It worked a little until you heard Liz.

"He looks like God himself," she murmured, looking at Taehyung with her mouth hanging open.

If looks could kill, she surely would have been lying dead on the floor, because you could swear you saw flames coming from your eyes.

"I mean, he's really hot and handsome, but that doesn't mean he's less asshole," she started babbling. "Asshole. Son of a bitch." She murmured looking at the boy, trying to make you feel better.

You weren't mad at her, the boy was handsome, breathtaking even. Well, not him, his physical appearance was. He was ugly. He was always laughing at others, specially Jungkook and you. He played with people, not giving a shit about the consequences of his actions. He hurt people and he didn't care. You hated him, and now he was going to play the main character with you.

When Lana finished talking, all of you stood up. You climbed down the stage to pick up your things.

"Hey Y/N," Mike, one of the other actors said from behind you. "Do you wanna go for a few drinks with Yeri and I? Rox, Liz and Hobi are coming too, since it's Friday."

"Oh," you said turning around with your bag in your hands. "I'd love to, but I can't. I've already made plans sorry. But have fun and a couple of drinks for me, yeah?"

"Of course, have fun too," he smiled at you and the disappeared with the rest.

"I told him you had plans already," Hobi murmured, picking up his things too and looking at you while wiggling his brows sugestively.

“C’mon Hobs, don’t start... The boy probably forgot or something,” you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, sure...” you friend laughed.

You both listened to Liz as she had one of her usual arguments with her sister over the phone while you walked out of the theatre.

"See you on Monday!" You said goodbye to Lana.

When you were out of the theatre, you spotted your best friend waiting for you, sitting on his usual bench playing to his Nintendo DS, probably Pokemon or The Legend of Zelda.

"Have fun, guys," you said approaching the bench in which Jungkook was sitting. "Don't drink too much Hobi, you know what happens to you."

"Yes ma'am," he laughed.

"I'll take care of him, don't you worry," Liz smiled, grabbing Hobi by the arm. "Have fun you too. Bye Jungkook!"

Jungkook finally raised his head to look at you and your friends. Even though he only spoke to you, he smiled at Liz. He had told you before he liked your drama friends.

"Bye pal!" Hobi said, waving towards Jungkook and disappearing with Liz.

"Hey, have you been waiting here for long?" You asked him, hanging your bag over your shoulders.

"No, not really," he said, putting his Nintendo in his Iron Man's bag.

"Are you ready to go watch the last movie of The Avengers?!" you said, clapping and cheering him up a bit as you grabbed him by the shoulders and started jumping around him.

"If you keep doing that I'll resell my ticket and you'll go on your own," he said. He sounded serious but you knew him, and you knew it was his way of joking with you.

"I'm just so excited!" you squealed, being the crazy Marvel fan you were.

A scoff coming from behind you made you stop jumping and squealing. You turned around and when your eyes met his, you tensed up.

Taehyung put a cigarette between his lips and just smirked at you.

"I see you're both going on a date?" he laughed.

Jaebum was with him, looking at you with a frown on his face.

"C'mon, Kookster, we'll be late if-" you began saying.

"What is he doing here?" Jungkook whispered to you as you gently grabbed his Iron Man's bag and started walking away.

"I'll tell you on the way to the cinema, c'mon," you kept urging Jungkook as you heard Jaebum asking Taehyung if he knew you.

You didn't give time to the red haired asshole to answer before you turned around again and disappeared with Jungkook down the street.

"I'll be there at six, Liz," you said trough the phone. You had to take Jungkook to his Monday art lesson since his mother had texted you that morning saying she couldn't take him.

"Okay, I'll let Lana know it," she said before saying goodbye and hanging up.

"What are you playing today?" you asked Jungkook, looking at the screen on his red Nintendo DS.

"Mario Kart," he simply answered, focused on the race.

You hummed and lied back on your usual bench. You usually had lunch with Jungkook there, taking advantage of the good weather. The further you were from the school cafeteria, the better.

You put your headphones on and turned on the music as you looked up the sky. You had seen Taehyung that morning ever since he was in the same class you were, but unlike other days he hadn't teased you, nor had he even looked at you. You guessed you knew why: he didn't want you to fire back like you usually did and bring up the drama topic.

He was one of the "coolest" boys at school, and being in a drama group wasn't cool at all. You supposed either was a weird hobby of his, or he joined the drama group because his parents made him, which you highly doubted. He wasn't the kind of boy to follow his parents orders, but then again, he wasn't the kind of boy to join a drama group.

Either way, he didn't want anyone to know about him joining the drama club.

You joined that drama club because it wasn't part of your school and barely no one knew about it in town. You wanted to be away from the constant drama and gossip of your high school. Maybe Taehyung joined it because of that too.

What the fuck? Y/N, why are you wasting your lunch break thinking about someone like Taehyung?

Loud laughs made you open your eyes and you took one of your headphones off. You turned your head to look where the laughs were coming from. Usually you and Jungkook where on your own in that part of the field that surrounded your school.

You saw Taehyung and his friends. They were playing football in the field with some of your old girl friends.

"Let's go inside, Kookster," you said, not wanting them to notice you and disturb Jungkook.

"Okay," he simply said.

As you picked up all your stuff, you heard what you thought was that obnoxious boy called Jimin shouting: "Hey! Look who's here!"

"Looks like we've found someone's secret place!" Namjoon shouted.

"Someone's secret love place!" Yoongi said following the taller boy, making all the girls laugh.

You waited Taehyung's snarky remark as always, but it didn't come. You didn't look back as you picked yours and Jungkook's bags, the boy still playing with his Nintendo as he followed you.

"Hey, Jungkookie!" you heard Taehyung's deep voice. "Grab it, pal!"

You saw the ball approaching Jungkook's head from the corner of your eye, so you grabbed him by the arm and placed yourself next to him, making the ball hit your side as everyone bursted out laughing.

Your blood boiled in your veins. You had been wrong about Taehyung, he hadn't been quieter than usual, he had been the same. He had just been waiting for the right moment to laugh at you again.

You picked up the ball, throwing it to him again as you ignored the pain in your left arm, where the ball had hit you. "Hey, asshole! Grab it!" you shouted, kicking the ball with your right foot. "See you later at the theatre!" You said, making Taehyung's eyes go wide.

But just for a couple of seconds, because when his friends looked back at him, he seemed as composed as usual, grabbing the ball you had threw to him without any difficulty.

When you looked at Jungkook, his eyes were fixed in Taehyung, his lips forming a thin line.

"I'm okay Kookster, c'mon, let's go to the library, you have a book to return." You said, dragging him with you.

"I lost the race. Ninth place..." he complained.

After you left Jungkook in his art class, you rushed towards the theatre. Since all the characters were already distributed, that day would be your first practice. You were dreading it, because that meant you would actually have to face Kim fucking Taehyung. Despite that, you didn't want to arrive half an hour late to the first rehearsal.

The bus stopped just a few streets away from the theatre and when you arrived, everyone was already doing Lana's relaxation exercises.

"Sorry..." you murmured as you left your bag on one of the seats.

"Don't worry Y/N, Liz told me you'd be late. Take a seat and follow the breathing exercises," she told you with her usual smile on her face. You could tell she was super excited because it'd be the first day you'd rehearse.

You climbed the stairs to the scenario and laid next to Liz. She was already lying on the floor with her eyes closed and her hands over her stomach, controlling her breathing. You mimicked her position, doing the same with your breathings.

Lana started playing his relaxing playlist through the theatre's speakers.

You had been so worried about being late and not bothering anyone that was already relaxing that you didn't realise you were lying in between Liz and a boy... A boy that wasn't Hobi.

You opened your eyes to find the red haired asshole lying there, by your side, his big, bony hands resting over his stomach, his pink lips slightly parted. You lowly grunted and closed your eyes again. When the relaxation exercises finished, all of you stood up. You stood up quicker than ever, making black dots appear in your field of vision, but you didn't care. All you wanted to do was being the furthest away from Taehyung that you could.

"How was your weekend then?" You asked Liz as she picked her hair up in a ponytail.

"I got wasted with Hobi on Friday night. I swear I hadn’t gotten that wasted in months..." she massaged her temples with her hands. "And I spent the rest of the weekend sleeping."

You laughed a bit. "I told you not to drink too much."

"No, you told Hobi not to drink too much," she smiled, happy that she had shut you down.

"And he got wasted too, didn't he?" you laughed again. Hobi had such a low alcohol endurance.

"Who got wasted?" the energetic voice of Hobi said from behind you.

"An asshole that sticks his nose in other people's conversations," you said, without even turning around to look at him.

"Well, then that's not me," he simply answered, smiling again. That was when you heard a scoff coming from behind you.

You rolled your eyes knowing that it was Taehyung.

"Well, it looks like he's not the only nosy one here," you said, loud enough for him to hear you. And he did.

"Okay, today we'll be starting with the first act. These will be the appearances..." Lana started assigning the positions on the scenario.

An hour later, she had already explained the first act.

"Mike, Hobi, you'll be the first to make an appearance," Lana said, looking at the script in his hands. "You'll go there Hobi, and you there Mike. You'll enter from here and approach Hobi..."

You sat in one of the seats looking at the scenario. Your character, Sandy, didn't appear until later in the act, so you waited for them to finish their scene. Liz, that played as Betty Rizzo, was already on the stage because she was next to come in.

You were sitting on your own until a deep voice came from the round of seats just behind yours.

"Didn't expect you here, Wallflower," Taehyung said, too close to you for your liking. You tried not to flinch at his words - or worst, at his voice - so you remained quiet.

You didn't like getting into fights, so each time someone would pick on Jungkook or you, you'd only answer with a witty remark and ignore them. Sometimes, when you knew you wouldn't be able to control yourself, you just shut your mouth and walked away. You couldn't walk away in that moment, but you could shut up, and that's what you did.

"Aren't you gonna answer me with one of your snarky comments?" the boy repeated, making you roll your eyes.

"Believe me, you don't want me to," you answered, surprising yourself when you sounded more composed than you really were. After your answer, you moved a couple of seats away, seeing Taehyung's side smile from the corner of your eyes.

You huffed when the boy moved so he was sitting right next to you.

"So, you like acting?" he asked with a mocking tone. Even when no one was around, he still made fun of you.

"So, can't you shut up?" you asked back, not even looking at him. Your eyes were fixed on your best friends on the scenario, but your mind was far from there.

You heard Taehyung's soft laugh next to you. "That's the Wallflower I know," he said again.

Grunting, you turned around so you were facing him. "So, the Asshole likes acting, huh?"

Taehyung's face changed a bit and it wasn't as mocking as before, but his smile remained untouched. "One of my many hobbies..." he said, as if he was John Travolta himself.

"Do you enjoy it more than you enjoy your hobby of being an asshole or more than your hobby of having no neurons?" You asked, drawing a fake smile on your lips afterwards.

Taehyung let out a laugh as fake as your smile. "Yeah, but not more than I enjoy conversing with you, Wallflower."

You rolled your eyes. He and his friends had been calling you that ever since the start of High School. Weren't they tired of it? It was so unoriginal. Wallflower, pff.

"So you actually know how to proper converse? Wow, what a surprise," you said, avoiding his eyes again, trying to ignore him and that stupid conversation.

Taehyung let out a laugh again, this time it didn't seem fake. But then again, he was The King of Fake-Land. "I'm a box full of surprises, you should get to know me better."

"Ugh. No thanks, I have plenty more interesting things to do," you answered, happy with how you were dealing with the situation.

"Like, what?" that mocking tone was back again, and you knew what he was going to say next. "Going on a date with your little boyfriend?" He then laughed, as if he had said the wittiest comment in the world. What a shame he repeated himself so often.

You didn't even bother answering, since he had teased you with that same thing again and again.

"Ha, seems like I hit the bullseye," he laughed again. Asshole.

"Do your friends know acting is one of your many hobbies?" you asked then, leaving Taehyung speechless.

The boy remained quiet, and this time he was the one who avoided your gaze when you looked at him. The smile was far gone from his face and his eyes were hidden behind his red bangs.

"Thought so," you said, standing up from your seat as your character had to make an appearance in the scene your mates where rehearsing. "Seems like I hit the bullseye, Asshole." You said before approaching the scenario and leaving him there by himself.

It was really difficult trying to ignore Taehyung.

He was one of those persons you can't ignore even if you are blind or deaf. He liked - no, he loved - attention, always making jokes in class, making up new nicknames for people or coming up with new pranks.

But that specific day, the task of avoiding Kim fucking Taehyung at all costs, became even more difficult.

"Wait, wait," your Biology teacher said, clapping to catch everyone's attention. "Since it's Thursday, we won't have class till next Monday. I want you to do a geology project in groups."

You immediately looked at Jungkook, knowing that you would work with him. But the teacher had said groups, not pairs...

"To change things up a bit and ever since it's the first project of this year, the distribution of the groups will be made based on your last names."

"Shit," you murmured, knowing that your last name was in the middle of the alphabet, near Jungkook's, but when the teacher distributed you in alphabetical order you were never in the same group.

"I'll leave the paper with the groups on the headboard and each group will have to work on the different types of rocks and minerals. Each group has a type of rock and mineral assigned," the teacher carried on speaking , explaining the task, but all you kept thinking of was the fact that your last name was really close to...

"Woah, it seems we'll be working together in this project, Wallflower," Taehyung said while you were looking at the list, hoping you were wrong. You had always loved your last name... Until that moment. Why life had to be so unfair.

You turned your head to look at him, smiling at you as he stepped out of the room, following his friends while they laughed, probably planning how to make your life a living hell one more time.

"Aren't you happy with your group?" Jungkook asked you.

You looked at him. Since he couldn't work in group, he would be doing the project by himself. Even though you saw his facial expression as impassible as always, you knew he was worried about you. He had enough to deal with, so you simply just shook your head and smiled at him.

"I'm going to the library to read," he told you.

"You are not going to eat lunch today?" you asked, this time you were the one being worried.

"No, I have a medical check-up this afternoon and I can't eat in the previous twelve hours," he shrugged, grabbing the straps of his Iron Man's bag, walking out of the class followed by you.

"Is everything okay Jungkook?" you asked again, starting to get on Jungkook's nerves. He loved being on his own, and he loved even more being on his own in the library, but he never missed out lunch time with you, at your special place.

"Yes," he simply said with a robotic voice.

"And why are you doing medical check-up again? You know you can tell me everything, right Jungkook? I'm not going to get sad or anything like that," you reassured him.

"I know," he said again, letting you know that he wouldn't articulate another word.

"What do you know? You know why you are doing another medical check-up or that you can tell me anything?" you pressed him, but he grunted and you stopped. "Sorry, I don't want to upset you Kookster, I'm just worried."

"I don't want you to worry about me, Y/N," he uttered, raising his voice a bit. "I have to go, Mrs. Pods is waiting for me."

You nodded, stopping in front of the lockers. You mouthed a quiet "okay" and then you observed your best friend disappearing as he turned left. Mrs. Pods was the librarian, the only person besides you that Jungkook spoke to at school, you knew she would take good care of him, but you couldn't help but worry even more.

There was nothing Jungkook didn't tell you, and if he didn't, then his mother would. You knew everything from him, from his favourite episode of The Big Bang Theory to his medical appointments. He was hiding something from you, you were sure about it.

You were thinking about the last time Jungkook had one of his attacks while you ate your watermelon in the school's cafeteria, when someone sat next to you, making the small table tremble. A bright red back pack was placed on the table next to your lunch box.  

"Hey, what's up Wallflower?" Taehyung said, looking directly at you, who were avoiding his eyes at all costs. You kept eating, as if he wasn't even there.

As if he knew how uncomfortable his presence made you, he leaned closer to you, making you stop breathing. When you thought he was going to touch you, he just grabbed a piece of your watermelon and ate it.

"Hmm... I love watermelon," he said, still chewing the fruit.

You tore your bowl with watermelon away from him. "What do you want, Asshole? Aren't you afraid of your popularity dangerously dropping since you're here speaking to me?"

You heard his laugh as you ate another piece of watermelon, wanting to finish it as soon as possible so you could escape from the cafeteria, so you could escape from Taehyung.

"Nah, we're just teammates in Biology's project," he said raising his voice and hovering his arm over the back of your chair. "Let's talk about it. Where's Jungkookie?"

You snapped, closing the bowl that contained the watermelon and pushing Taehyung's arm away from you and your chair. "One, don't call him that, you know he hates it," your voice was laced with venom, and so were your eyes as you fixed them on Taehyung's. "Two, this has nothing to do with Biology's project."

Your words made nothing but help the red haired boy's smile grow even wider. "And three, you didn't answer my question, how rude."

"Four, that's none of your business," you stubbornly said, starting to pick up your things.

"Five, can we stop this stupid 'number thing'?" he said, making quotation marks with his fingers in the air.

"I started it, but you were the one who kept doing it," you said.

"I've made a group chat with the rest of the group for the project, but you're the only one that's not in it," Taehyung said, following your every move with his eyes.

"What a shame," you murmured, standing up from your chair, rolling you eyes when you noticed the boy doing the same.

"I need your number so I can put you in the group chat," he said as you open the door of the cafeteria, not holding it out for him. You heard him struggle with the door for a moment, not bothering with supressing your devilish smile.

"I'm not giving you my number," you said.

"Then you're not going to find out when we'll meet to arrange the project," he answered, still walking next to you. Was he really that annoying? Yes.

"Then I'll ask someone of our group about it."

"Then they won't tell you. Plus, don't you think it’s a bit weird that all of us are in the group except you?" he asked. He was used to getting everything he wanted.

"I'm weird, nothing new," you shrugged.

"Right, but I thought at least you were interested in school projects," he pressed.

"Ugh! Fine, I'll give you my number, but don't you dare use it to prank me or worst; to speak to me," you said, watching his smile appear again.

He lent you his phone and you started typing your number in it.

"Don't you get excited, Wallflower, as soon as the project is done I'll delete it," he said, watching your every move. You finished saving your number and handed his phone back to him. "Thanks, Wallflower."

When you stopped by your locker he kept walking. You thought you had finally gotten rid of him when you heard his voice again.

"Hey! Wallflower!" he shouted, and you were so used to the nickname that you immediately turned your head and looked at him. "I can't guarantee anything about the pranks, but if I were you I wouldn't open your locker."

You squinted your eyes to him while you opened your locker, ignoring him. As soon as the locker was open, confetti flew all over you, getting stuck in your overalls. You clenched your teeth as you saw a note in between the confetti. It said "Congratulations for being my teammate in Biology's project. TAE."

You heard laughs from behind you and when you turned around, you saw Taehyung The Asshole laughing with his group of friends, some of them doing high fives.

Emma: sorry guys, but my brother is coming home this weekend and we won't be able to meet at my house :(   17:05 PM

Charlie: we can't meet at my house either...   17:11 PM

Yuna: if you want to meet at a tiny frat room...  17:11 PM

Unknown number: we'll find another place    17:13 PM

Yuna: and what about yours, Tae?  17:14 PM

Unknown number: Nope 17:15 PM

You sighed, sitting in the bus. You had planned to meet at Emma's house on Saturday, and now it was Friday and they were rearranging plans. You hated that.

Unknown number: and yours Wallflower???  17:15 PM

Oh, shit. Your parents would be visiting your grandparents on Saturday, so you'd have the house all for yourself. But you didn't want to let people you hated into your house.

After avoiding Taehyung at Friday's rehearsal, you told everything to your mom. You had a really close relationship with your parents.

"You can invite your friends," your dad told you as he cooked Friday's dinner: fajitas.

"Yeah, we won't be here until late so you'll have the house all for yourselves," you mom said, supporting your father's idea.

"Ugh, no, you don't get it. They're not my friends and because of that I don't want to invite them to my house," you said, eating some of the tomatoes and peppers that were already cooked.

"Stop young lady, or we won't have any ingredients left," your mom told you, putting the bowl with the food away from you. "Where are you going to do the project then?"

"I don't know," you said, but there was something that was pissing you off. "Emma told us why her house wasn't available, Yuna and Charlie too, but another boy called Taehyung just said 'Nope'. How unfair is that?"

"Maybe he has a reason why his house isn't available but he can't tell you," your father said.

"Maybe you can go to the library down the street?" your mom asked, mixing the chicken with spices.

"Yeah, sure, and work on a project with other four people," you said rolling your eyes, thinking it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Maybe we can communicate by telekinesis so the librarian doesn't kick us out."

"And you can't go to any other place?" your mom asked again.

"No, the school is closed on weekends. We need wifi, but a cafeteria would be too crowded and we wouldn't be able to focus on the project," you sighed, knowing that you were beating yourself up for nothing. At the end you would end up being persuaded and giving in as always.

"Well, Y/N, maybe you have to give in for once," your mom said.

"For once?! I've been giving in for the past eighteen years of my life. And they're not only classmates, they are people that have been laughing and picking on me for years, and if they haven't they have been laughing at the jokes the others made of Jungkook and me. So no, I don't want to let them into my house," you stubbornly said. But you were right.

Emma wasn't that bad in fact. You have never been close friends but you sometimes spoke with her in between classes. Charlie was just Charlie. And Yuna... She wasn't bad either, a little bit of a bitch sometimes but never with you. The only one that was left and the only one that was holding black yourself from inviting them to your house was Taehyung.

"It's only a project, you work on it and then they leave," your father said.

"I know but... It's fucking unfair," you sighed, hearing your parents laugh at your choice of words. You used those words frequently, and they were used to hearing them - mostly because they said them too - but they always laughed when you got angry.

"Invite them here to work on the project and if something happens you call us and I'll be here with a hammer," your father joked, making you laugh.

You petted your black cat - Kiwi - as you typed on your phone.

You: hey, my house is available tomorrow   21:05 PM

You: how about meeting here at five pm?  21:05 PM

"Do we wait for him some more?" Yuna asked, typing the password of her laptop.

You were all sitting around the big table of your living room, waiting for Kim fucking Taehyung... What a surprise.

"It's already half past five, we won't be able to even do half of the project if we wait some more," you said, placing on the table a jar of water.

"Right," Charlie agreed with you.

You knew Taehyung was a notorious pranker, player and asshole, and that afternoon you learned that he was anything but timely too.

When the doorbell rang through the house, you stood up from your chair and walked towards the door. You opened it without even looking through the peephole, already knowing who it'd be.

"You're late," you said as you opened the door and stepped aside so he could step in.

As said before, you knew that Taehyung was a notorious pranker, player, asshole and unpunctual, but apparently he was indiscreet and nosy too.

He stepped into your hall looking everywhere, taking off his Dr. Martens and throwing them onto the floor without any care.

"I like your house... It's cozy," he said, smiling widely.

You rolled your eyes and stepped into the living room where the rest of your classmates were, ignoring him.

Moments after, when Taehyung decided he had nosed around your hall enough, he entered into your living room and took a seat next to Charlie at the table.

"Haven't you started yet?" Taehyung asked as if he was disappointed.

You observed as Emma, Charlie and Yuna stayed quiet. Of course they wouldn't dare open their mouths against Kim fucking Taehyung.

"We were waiting for you," you spat. "Because, in case you forgot, we had planned to meet here nearly an hour ago."

"Oh, right. I didn't forgot it's just... Look, I get it's difficult for someone like you to understand that people go out on Friday night and sleep until late the next day, but I'm sure the rest of you guys," - he spoke to Emma, Charlie and Yuna - "understand me."

The rest of them nodded, making you blush under Taehyung's stare. You wanted to die and you were sure you were going to kill someone that night, but the best way to hide it was changing the topic. So you started to work on the project.

To your surprise Taehyung had actually done some research and helped the rest of you. You expected him to just stand there, sitting on his chair watching the rest of you work. You had always thought of him as someone so closed minded and uncultured, but you were wrong too. You got surprised by his imagination, his never-ending ideas and his intelligent opinion in different topics.

By eight PM you had already done more than half of the project. You said goodbye to everyone and watched them step out of your house.

"Bye," you waved at them.

When you entered in the living room, Taehyung was still there, sitting on his chair.

"Why are you still here?" you said a bit roughly.

He tore his gaze away from his phone and his eyes found yours. You felt a shiver run down your spine, as you did every time he looked at you like that. Well, in fact he had only looked at you like that once, and it was at the theatre while he was playing Danny Zuko's character.

"I'm waiting for a friend, he's going to pick me up," he simply said.

You frowned and nodded slowly. "Okay... So you're waiting for him in here?" you asked and he nodded. "And why don't you wait for your friend outside?" you asked again, this time harsher than before.

But it only made Taehyung's smile go wider.

"Because out there I'd be alone and here I'm with you," he said, his smile so wide you could even hear it in his voice.

You started gathering the things from the table, closing your laptop and notebooks, picking your pencils up.

"Since when do you enjoy my company?" you asked, gathering a couple more things and stepping out of the living room and into the hall, praying for Taehyung not to follow you.

"I've always enjoyed your company, Wallflower," you heard his voice in the stairs, right behind you.

You laughed sarcastically. "Let me disagree with you, Asshole," you said, opening the door to your room. "Woah, woah, where do you think you're going?"

"To your room?" he asked, raising his brows.

You laughed sarcastically again. "Listen, letting you into my house was one thing, but letting you in my room is other completely different."

"Oh, c'mon!" he protested, leaning closer to you so he could peep through the space that was left in between the door and your body.

"No, Taehyung!" you said, immediately closing your mouth when you realised you had called him by his real name and not by "Asshole" as you used to call him. The red haired boy just smiled, trying to act as if he hadn't heard anything.

"OMG!" he said in a high pitched tone. "Is that a Kurt Cobain's poster?!"

"What?" you said, turning around. He took advantage of your distraction and he stepped into your room.

It was your sacred place, so you immediately composed yourself, left the laptop and notebooks on the bed and grabbed him by the t-shirt. He gasped and, ever since you had caught him distracted too, you could drag him out of the room again.

"Hey!" he protested when you pushed him and closed the door behind your back.

"You can't step into my room, understood?" you said, a bit breathless because of the effort of dragging him and because of the mini heart attack you had had when Taehyung entered in your room.

"Do you like Nirvana?" he asked, avoiding your question.

"Who doesn't?" you shrugged.

"But do you really like them or you just have a Kurt Cobain's poster in your room because it's cool?" he asked again, looking really interested in knowing that.

"Why do you even care?" you said, climbing down the stairs so you could finish cleaning the living room.

You heard Taehyung letting out a frustrated grunt. "Just answer me."

"Okay, I really like Nirvana and Kurt Cobain, so what?" you answered, defiantly looking at him.

"Favourite song from them?" he asked again.

"I know it is such a cliché, but my favourite one is Smells Like Teen Spirit. You could say In Bloom is my second favourite," you said, awkwardly staring at Taehyung, that was resting against the doorframe of the living room with his hands on his pockets.

"It's a cliché, but a good one since that's my favourite one from them too," he said, his tone calmer than ever before, making you blush. "So do you like alternative rock?"

"Yeah... Even though I love Kurt Cobain and Nirvana, I must admit Green Day is my favourite alternative rock group," you shyly said.

"Green Day? Let me guess... Boulevard of Broken Dreams?" he asked, a sudden spark illuminating his dark eyes.

You blushed even more when he guessed it. "Touché. Let me guess yours... Basket Case?" you got surprised when he said shook his head no. "Hmm... When I Come Around. I'm sure," When you saw Taehyung's boxy smile appear again you knew you were right. "For being an asshole your taste in music isn't that bad."

Taehyung was going to answer when you heard a loud bang in your kitchen.

"What the fuck?" Taehyung asked when a black dot appeared into the living room, running and climbing into your sofa.

You laughed, seeing Taehyung crouched next to the living room door, hand on his chest.

"You have a cat?" he asked, a bit breathless because of the fright.

"Yeah, his name is Kiwi," you said, still laughing.

"What's so funny? Your cat nearly killed me," he said, standing up and approaching your cat.

"Careful he scratch- " you began to say, but you shouted your mouth when you saw your cat letting Taehyung pet his tummy. "He scratches..."

"Hey, kitten," Taehyung said in a nearly-cute voice. "You like me, don't you? Just like your owner."

"What the fuck?" you said. "Kiwi, attack."

Your cat looked at you and then, when he found you as bland as always, closed his eyes. Taehyung laughed when he heard you protesting. You were going to say something about how weird it was that Kiwi was letting an unknown person pet him when Taehyung's phone started ringing. Kiwi got scared and run away, climbing up the stairs to your room you supposed. Not to cuddle him - mental note.

"Yeah? Okay mate, I'll be there in a minute. See ya’," Taehyung said, hanging up and putting his phone into his back pocket. "My friend's here, I gotta go. It was funny hanging out with you, Wallflower."

You nearly smiled at his words, but opted for a blank face as you accompanied him to the front door.

"Maybe we can continue our conversation about rock bands another day," he asked, stepping into the front porch. You saw the car waiting for him outside and you could distinguish a figure in it. It definitely wasn't a male figure.

Your nearly smile vanished from your face. It was Kim fucking Taehyung.

"Let's be honest, It'll probably be best if we don't," you said, breaking the atmosphere.

You saw no change in Taehyung's expression. "Hey, Wallflower, I was just trying to be polite there, we both know that wouldn't be possible."

"Yeah, sure. See you on Monday. Well, you know what? It'd be better if I don't see you, Asshole." you said, closing the door as you saw Taehyung's boxy smile grow wider.

"Bye, Wallflower, see you on Monday," he waved goodbye and disappeared from your field of vision when you closed the door.

You rested your head on the wood of the door and closed your eyes. Your heart was beating wildly against your rib cage and your hands were nearly trembling. What's wrong with you Y/N? He is Kim fucking Taehyung.