#scrunch your noses whenever it's genuinely dark tones brown or black people.

[jinkushiroll]

the racism towards indians and other south asians is so fucking normalized in online spaces. most people just think it's offensive humour. no one bats an eye at how dehumanising and vile it is. i want to jump off the nearest cliff.

[gublersmessss]

Fix It | S.R.

summary — a stupid, stupid little reaction from you is how the day starts. when spencer leaves for work, you leave to get out of the house, right into the wrong arms. it isn’t until a phone call is made to garcia that they even realizes you’re missing...

warnings — some language, angst, mentions of blood, mentions of death (unsub death), mentions/usage of drugs (xanax, forced.) Some hurt feelings & just a touch of fluff. Mostly angst.

word count — 3.1k

listen to — you broke me first by tate mcrae & no time to die by billie eilish

a/n — ah my first oneshot on this blog! enjoy & my inbox is open!

You groaned. There’d been a sharp, throbbing pain in your left temple for the past twenty-five minutes, driving you up the wall. Standing still for a moment waiting for the vertigo to subside, you grab your bottle of ibuprofen off the kitchen ledge. You popped them into your mouth before taking a quick swig of the icy water in your water bottle.

You heard papers shuffling behind you, knowing it was Spencer. You’d been dating Spencer for about a year now, and only just moved in together. The small apartment you shared was extremely cozy, the only downfall was the heater had been broken the entire time of living there, leaving the winter months brutal. Luckily for you, Spencer loved his scarves and blankets, letting you take them whenever you needed.

His hair was partially in his face, and you watched as his nimble fingers came up to push a piece behind his ear as he was hunched over, trying to straighten out some papers in his satchel. You eyed him as he straightened his spine back up, looking at you with those soft hazel eyes.

“You alright?” He asks, rubbing his hands together. You saw his eyebrows furrow with concern as they ran over your face. You nod and turn away from him, taking one more ibuprofen.

“How many was that y/n?” He asks again, this time his voice a little higher, still waiting for your words. He inches closer to you as you put your water bottle down. You placed your hand on your head as the throb continued, harder this time.

“I’m fine, Spencer! Okay?! Is that what you wanted?!” You said, a lot ruder than you intended. You hadn’t intended it at all. You saw his face fall, and it broke your heart on impact. He had an open mouthed frown across his lips and he nodded, putting one hand on the opening of his satchel, one hand on the strap. He nodded softly and looked down at the mismatched socks that peeked out from under his pants.

“I got called in. There’s some papers I have to sign from Hotch. I’m sure I’ll be home by dinner time.” He tells you with a quieter tone before approaching you slowly, softly grabbing your cheeks with his hands and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I hope you feel better.”

You nod and just like that, he’s out the door. You knew he loved his job, and you were supportive of him. He was a borderline genius, and you’d seen first hand just how well he can get when talking to an unsub. You’d seen him out in the field, you could just tell he loved saving the lives that he could.

It was already about noon when you went back to your shared room, rummaging through your dresser, looking for some warmer clothes you could wear to go out grocery shopping. You chose your warmest jacket, along with one of Spencer’s favorite purple scarves.

-

Your gloved hands grip the handle of the shopping cart, pushing it down the darker, less inhabited aisle 12, paper plates and napkins. You glanced down at your list looking at what was next to get, a new fork. The one that was yours somehow got stuck down in the garbage disposal, sending Spencer into a laughing fit when you lost it. You smiled to yourself at the memory and heard a deep chuckle beside you. You got the chills, and it wasn’t from the cold.

You looked up and saw a man. He seemed to be in his mid-twenties, maybe late-twenties. He had on a black t-shirt, a working shirt, so he was a worker. No name tag. And combat boots unlaced over his black pants.

“Something funny sweetheart?” He asks. He takes a step closer to you, digging his hands into his deep pockets, and you immediately went rigid. This is why you almost never went out without Spencer. He always taught you red flags to look out for with people, how some can seem so nice and genuine and then brutally murder someone. Everything about this man was off. He smelled bad. Extremely bad.

“Oh, no.” You chuckled and pulled on the strap of your purse, holding it right against your neck, as far on you as it can get. You began pushing the basket down the aisle towards the front of the store. You felt your stomach drop when you heard his clunky boots following right behind you, almost pulling off the back of your shoe he was so close.

You saw a hand with a rag come around your front and trap it onto your nose and mouth, pulling your back against his body. You tried to fight back or even make a noise but everything went black so soon.

-

When you came to, you were sitting in a chair. It was dark, literally pitch black. You tried to move your hands and feet to stand up, but low and behold, no movement. You looked down to see what was stopping you, but it was too dark to even see your hand. You tried to scream but the rag that was stuck between your teeth prevented you from it. It tasted horrible, like some type of chemical. Definitely wasn’t good to keep your tongue on it.

Oh how you wish you never left that god damn apartment. You wish you never acted out on Spencer like that. Spencer. What if you never saw him again!? Those were the last things you said to him, you yelled at him. You looked up at the ceiling, seeing no light coming down from any cracks. Were you in a bonker?

*Spencers POV*

I finished all the paperwork for Hotch, just some aftermath from the previous case still had to be done. I nodded at him and left the office, walking back into the bullpen. My desk had so many papers on it, so many it drove me crazy.

As I sat down in my chair, I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. I sent y/n a text, letting her know I just had to clean up and then I’d be home, and I'd help her make dinner.

My fingers tapped at the edge of my desk as Garcia waved at me from across the room. Smiling, I waved back at her and waited for a text back from y/n. Normally she would reply within seconds, especially if she was already home. Unless she’s gone to the store to get things for dinner.

When I left the building, I began getting worried that I hadn’t heard back from her for fifteen minutes. It seems so bad to be worried after only that long, but when she always replied so fast, this worried me terribly.

I went back to the apartment. It was locked, that was good. Means she could just be asleep, she did have a headache after all, would make sense to rest, right?

“Y/N?” I called out, setting my satchel down by the door. I cranked my head around the wall of the kitchen, not seeing anything on the counters. But what caught my attention was the wind blowing through the open window in the living room, leading out to the fire escape. My hand gripped the gun in the holster against my hip, I pulled it out and aimed it in front of me. Turning around the corner of the living room quickly, my eyes caught sight of my favorite purple scarf on the table with a note stuck to it. I raised an eyebrow and walked slowly to the note, looking behind me before I reached it. I opened it and read it.

‘Paper plates, napkins, salt & pepper, soup.’

This was y/n’s shopping list. I flipped it over and on the back was someone else’s handwriting. Messy, written in a hurry. Whoever’s handwriting it was, they looked to be disorganized. My heart began to race as my eyes scanned on the paper.

‘If you want your precious angel alive, come alone.’

“Shit.” I grabbed my phone and dialed Hotch’s number, and as I put it to my ear the lights went out.

-

*Your POV*

A man came into the room. The light from outside was absolutely blinding, but it ended as soon as it happened. You whimpered as he kneeled in front of you. He had a pill in his hand, and in the other hand a bottle of rather cloudy water. You saw his eyes, they were deep dark brown, almost black. They looked so lifeless, like a shark lurking in the water searching for a wounded seal.

“Must be thirsty huh.” He says, his voice making you shake and clench your fists. He laughed at your attempt to move, but he shook his head.

“Ain’t nobody going to hear you out here! Not even that scrawny lover boy of yours.” You furrowed your eyebrows and knew he was talking about Spencer. He looked over your shoulder, smirking at something that you could not see. You scrunched up your nose at the stench on his hands as he came up and pulled the rag out of your mouth. You grimaced as he caressed your cheek. You tried to move away but he ticked his tongue.

“Your girl sure is beautiful Dr. Reid.” The man said, and you looked up at him, trying to turn your head but he grabbed your cheeks, making you pucker your lips.

“Don’t look away from me. Believe me. You don’t want to see him like that.”

You feel tears prick your eyes as he tells you this and he quickly brings the hand with the pull in it up to your lips. You struggle against him as he shoves the pill down your throat. He pushed your head back and forced you to drink water, you coughed and choked until you finally got it down.

“Why are you doing this?” You scowl, and he shrugs, smiling at you. What a psycho.

“Want to watch the show?” It’s as if he completely changed personalities, now all cheerful, giddy almost.

Before you could answer, your chair is turned around and you see Spencer sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the room. There is a shiny chain wrapped around his body, keeping him still against the chair. He sees you from across the room. His eyebrows raise as he sees you stuck to the chair.

“Y/N?! Oh my god, are you okay?!” He says, moving against the chains, not budging one bit. He has a gentle line of blood coming down his temple, and his hair is completely messed up. He sees your eyes get more and more hooded.

You try to reply, but everything starts spinning.

“S-Spence..” The man pulls your hair back, yanking your neck back, making your throat exposed. You can just barely hear what is going on around you as you get sleepy. You can see the ceiling, your eyes finally adjusting to the dark. It looks like the ceiling of a barn, very well maintained if you can’t see sunlight. But then again, maybe it was dark out already.

“Dan come out here! Grab a bat.” The man tells someone, and you don’t see but you hear some footsteps coming up behind you.

“Ralph, please don’t hurt her. She didn’t do anything! Hit me instead, please.” Spencer’s voice rings out, raspy and aching for water. He knows him?

“Oh? Tough guy huh?! Don’t want us to hurt this precious baby do you?”

You just about can’t move, you feel so tired but you can still see and hear what’s going on. You could barely feel anything until you feel the cool metal of a blade pressed against your neck. Not pressing hard until Spencer speaks again.

“NO! Please don’t! If you want to kill someone, just kill me!” He just about sobbed. The man above you looked down at you, looking at your glazed eyes.

-

Garcia sat at her desk, tossing a lollipop back at JJ who was sitting at the chair behind her.

“Have you heard from Reid? He’s never been this quiet. I’m starting to miss his smart ass remarks.” JJ says, unwrapping the candy as Garcia dials his number to his phone without even saying anything.

It rings a few times until he, no, someone answers.

“Who in the hell is this.” A man's voice called out, and Garcia and JJ both sat up straighter.

“Spencer?” Garcia asks, reaching her arm behind her to get JJ to sit next to her. When she moves forward, they hear a thud and hear you scream in the background.

They both jump and JJ immediately runs out to get Morgan and Hotchner.

“Oh you must mean the Dr. Spencer Reid! Oh yeah he’s here with us! We’re just having some fun with y/n as well! Enjoy never seeing them again!” He says as he hangs up just as the men come into the office.

“I-I- Sir we were just thinking about him so we called him, b-but..” Hotch cuts her off.

“Track his phone. There’s a GPS installed and if the unsub wasn’t smart enough to remove it, we can find them. Text me the address Garcia.”

“Yes sir, on it.” She turns around and begins typing.

They leave the BAU in their SUVs and floor it as Morgan’s phone dings with the location.

-

You feel numb, and your heart and brain both seem to flutter with the effects of the pill. Your head drops and you open your eyes to see Spencer with his head hanging down, fresh blood in his hair. There’s a man standing behind him, wiping the blood off of the tan baseball bat with a rag.

“S-Spence..” Your voice is raspy, aching something horrible.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him, having your hair yanked back again, giving you a clear vision of him. He has tears running down his cheeks as he’s breathing heavily against the chains holding him down. There’s blood coming from his lip as well, and it quivered as he looked across your whole body.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you this morning..” Spencer’s mouth fell open and his eyebrows pinched upwards, his eyes swelling with tears as you mumbled.

“Aw how cute! You’re sorry for yelling at him? Is that why you're sorry?” The man got down close to your face, his nose pressed against your cheek as you clenched your teeth. But his attention was drawn away at the sound of a closing door outside the barn.

“Go check that out.” He tells the other man, and he grabs a handgun instead. Pressing it tight against the side of your neck as he hurriedly untied your hands and ankles, forcing you to stand up. You were walking towards Spencer, and you tried reaching out for him when you were pushed to the floor right in front of him. Your chin hit his knee as he looked down at you, still trying to break out of the chains, but that's when the gun is removed from you and pressed right against his temple.

“You’re not going to want to do that.” Spencer says, looking at up Ralph. Ralph just moves the gun, pointing it directly between his eyes. He holds it there while attempting to tie your hands back together behind your back. You wanted so desperately to fight back, but whatever he gave you had you almost completely immobile.

“Stop talking to me.”

“I’ve studied people like you Ralph. You don’t want to kill people. You have compassion deep down. But your past..” He paused as the fun pressed right against his forehead, he shuddered lightly at the coldness of it. “Your past doesn't define you.”

His sentence was punctuated with a gunshot from outside before the door busted open, as you turned your head you saw Hotch and felt set free.

“Shut up!”

“Drop the gun.” Hotch says, in the calmness his voice always is. Ralph turned to him, pointing the gun at him instead. You can see his hand shaking, and hear his breath shaking just as bad. You twist your body and kick your foot out, tripping the man. Thinking you succeeded, waiting for Hotch to run over and kick the gun out of his hand, instead he reaches over and hits you sharply over the head with the butt of his gun.

“NO!” Spencer cried as he watched your eyes close, and the blood flower on your forehead.

That moment, Hotch shot Ralph right in the middle of the eyes. He falls and Spencer moves violently in the chair desperate to get out and save you. Hotch runs to him and gets the key out of the man's pocket, undoing the chains as Morgan runs to you as well, checking your pulse.

“I NEED A MEDIC!” He yelled into his mic, flipping you onto your side, undoing your hands and you open your eyes at the feeling of hands touching your face. Much softer after getting beat.

“Y/N, Y/N i’m right here okay?! We’re getting an ambulance, you’ll be okay.” He kisses your forehead softly as your eyes flutter open and closed slowly.

“What.. What did he give me? I'm so tired.” You say, bringing up a hand to press against your forehead. You look up to see Hotch digging in the man's pocket, pulling out an orange bottle with a white label.

“Xanax. It could have been so much worse but we will get you help. You’ll be okay.” He tells you and Spencer is still hovering over you. You bring up a hand to touch his lip, not directly touching the open wound there but caressing his cheek lovingly.

He smiles down at you and holds your hand that’s on his face.

“You shouldn’t be sorry. I shouldn’t have gone in to do those goddamn papers, I should have just stayed home today and made dinner with you.” He tells you, his nose scrunching as he sniffs his tears back.

“Let’s just get out of here. Then we can make dinner.”

-

Taglist — @blissfulparker @railmereid

[nebulous-frog]

Not-So-Straight Best Friends

Summary: Based off this post from @pseudophan. Basically, what if Dan and Phil really were queerbaiting us this whole time but suddenly they realized they were in love?

Word Count: 1832

Genre: Getting Together, AU, crack!fic (ish? idek man)

Warnings: Vague descriptions of queerbaiting, swearing, dumbassery, first kiss... honestly idek

Author’s Note: I literally just wrote this in like. An hour or something? Hour and a half? on my phone and then found my laptop to post it. Not entirely sure what this is, pretty sure I was possessed when I started writing, but now we’re here I guess lmao

Link to AO3 Fics Masterlist

When Dan and Phil first started talking, it was because Dan genuinely wanted editing tips from Phil.

They pretended they became friends after that from a shared interest in Muse, but it really wasn’t anything like that. Instead, their friendship formed from a shared love of sports. The first time they met each other in person, they went out for beers at a pub in Manchester and then kicked a football around at Phil’s place. They didn’t hug, they didn’t have an emotional moment. They did a manly handshake and carried on. That night, Dan slept on the floor, a respectful, definitely-straight, no-homo-possible distance from Phil.

Years down the line, they wouldn’t remember whose idea it was. Dan would suggest it was Phil’s, since Phil was the one who knew about publicity already, but Phil would suggest it was Dan’s, since he was so keen on being friends in the first place. Whoever started it, they had long ago decided to pretend to be in a relationship that they were intentionally hiding from their audiences.

They created imaginary stories and scenarios and sent them out to the public, watching as their fans ate up every last bit of the fake relationship.

It was all an elaborate ruse to keep fans invested and draw in a wider audience. They even made their personas intentionally nerdy to really grasp the attention of a specific demographic.

To really sell it, they went on a few holidays together and tweeted about each other all the time. Eventually, they moved in together, partly maintain the shady lie.

But it wasn’t all a lie. They really were best friends and did everything together, just as any other guy best friends would do. They knew each other’s favorite athletes, attended sporting events together, played wingman for each other (whenever possible, that is; they had to be careful so no fan would see them dating or flirting with someone else).

And so it went for years. Dan and Phil hid their true sports-loving lad personalities from the internet successfully, even going so far as to act differently around friends so they wouldn’t accidentally let it slip. They were content with this, too. It made them money and people looked up to them, respected them, loved them. It was everything they’d ever wanted.

Except it wasn’t.

Dan was totally straight, of course. Of course. But he couldn’t help but admire Phil’s physique. He’d stopped exercising quite so much a long time ago to help with the nerdy image, but his arms were toned in just the right way for a camera not to notice. Plus, it wasn’t like Phil ever took his shirt off on camera. His abs were killer. The only reason they made Dan feel weak was because he literally wasn’t as strong as Phil. Right? Right.

And then Phil started asking Dan to play wingman more often.

“Come on,” he’d whine. “I haven’t gotten laid in ages and you’re such a good wingman.”

And Dan would feel his jaw clench, his hands twitch. “No,” he’d say. “I don’t want to.”

“I’ll buy your drinks, though,” Phil would promise.

Dan would scoff and shake his head.

“Why are you being such a dick?” Phil would accuse with a glare.

And so it went, over and over until Dan finally agreed to just do it already so Phil would quit bothering him.

They went out to a higher-end bar to avoid fans. The lighting was dim and the music was loud to encourage closeness, but Dan just found it annoying. He wanted to go home.

Not long after they arrived and got their beers, Phil bumped Dan’s arm with his own.

“Look at her, over by the loo. Wavy brown hair.”

Rolling his eyes, Dan turned his head to find the girl in question. He could see why Phil had noticed her. Her crop top showed off a flat stomach and her short shorts showed off long legs stuffed into knee-high stiletto boots. Her pale skin shone through the darkness of the bar. Dan turned back to his drink.

“You gonna go talk to her or do I have to?” Dan asked, voice betraying no emotion as he raised his beer to his lips.

“Well, obviously you have to. You’re my wingman, remember? Go talk me up.”

Dan sighed through his nose, too quiet for Phil to hear, and downed the rest of his drink in one.

“Here goes,” he said with a nod at Phil. He crossed the room to stand in front of the girl Phil fancied, thoughts racing with every step. The closer he got, the more repulsed he was by this whole plan. All he had to do was talk to her but that was supposed to get Phil laid and Dan suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He didn’t like the idea of Phil sleeping with some strange girl. Come to think of it, he didn’t like the idea of Phil sleeping with anybody. Well. Anyone but one specific person…

Dan stopped a few feet from the girl, eyes wide. He didn’t want to do this. He wouldn’t do this, he couldn’t possibly. It would break his heart, right as he’d finally discovered how it beat. He sized the girl up once more, then turned to look at Phil, who was nonchalantly leaning up against the bar and pretending not to pay attention. Phil would be so pissed, but Dan couldn’t help it. He had to do what had to be done.

He crossed the last few steps towards the girl.

“Hey, that guy over there? Black hair, quiff?”

The girl looked disinterestedly over his shoulder at Phil. “Yeah, what about him?” she asked, clearly suspicious.

“He’s got…” Dan grasped for an excuse- “he’s got chlamydia.”

The girl wrinkled her nose. “Sucks to be him, then.” Then she stalked away, boots clicking on the tiled floor as she walked out the door.

Moments later, Phil appeared at Dan’s elbow.

“The hell was that? You’re usually so good!” he asked, perplexed.

Dan fought the blush threatening to creep onto his cheeks at the compliment and scrambled for an explanation. “She- uh- she said she’s a lesbian.”

Phil frowned. “Oh. Guess it wasn’t meant to be, then.”

“Guess not,” Dan agreed with a pitying nod. “Alright, let’s go home, then. We’ll try another night.”

Phil’s brow scrunched up and Dan had to fight the desperate urge to rub away the wrinkles on his forehead.

“Give up after only one failure? No way, Howell, we’re not going home tonight until one of us gets fucked.”

Dan sighed again. He wasn’t really in the mood for getting fucked, at least, not by anyone who wasn’t Phil.

The realization hit him like a train again, but he had no time to recover as Phil grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the bar so they could scout their options once more.

Phil sent Dan out to try three more girls, and each time Dan purposefully botched the interactions.

Finally, a defeated Phil agreed to give up for the night.

Life continued on as normal for the two of them for a while as Dan desperately tied to figure out what to do with himself. His jealousy had awakened feelings inside himself that he’d never expected to feel and suddenly he wasn’t quite as straight as he thought he was and being around Phil was simultaneously too much and not enough.

He was in love with his best friend. His straight best friend, who he half-pretended to be in love with.

God, it was complicated.

Every little thing Phil did would send butterflies racing through Dan’s digestive system or blood rushing to places it ought not be rushing to and Dan was having a very hard time coping with his body doing all of that all at once and could Phil be a little less sexy for two minutes?

He was a goddamn mess, basically.

And then there came a day when he just couldn’t take it anymore.

They were playing FIFA together and nothing in particular caused it but Phil laughed at something Dan said and he looked so pretty and suddenly there it was.

“I love you.”

Dan’s eyes widened. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud to Phil, not ever, and here he had. Shit, what could he do? What should he do? Play it off as a joke? The thought of turning something so serious, so heartfelt, so real into a joke was almost too much to bear-

Phil snorted. “Yeah, of course, I love you, too.”

In a split second, Dan realized he couldn’t keep living like this. He had to come clean.

“No, really.” He paused the game, ignoring Phil’s protests but refusing to meet his eyes. “I love you but, like, not work-related.”

He was met with a deafening silence. The tension was killing him, so he forced himself to look up at Phil.

Shock, confusion, and something unnameable played in his expression, his jaw dropped open and eyes searching Dan’s face. Dan had expected anger, disgust, betrayal maybe, but this was very different. He thought he’d known every possible expression Phil could make after being friends and living together for so long, but this was something new and unexpected and frightening but the tiniest bit exciting, as well.

The seconds crawled by until finally Phil shut his mouth with a soft clop and his eyes stopped their searching, landing on Dan’s mouth. Time stopped then, and then suddenly Phil’s lips were on Dan’s and hands were grabbing and feeling and wandering and Dan felt dizzy with it all when Phil pulled back a few seconds later, eyes wide again and his hands still buried in Dan’s curls.

“I’ve never done that before,” he blurted. “Kissed a guy, I mean. I’ve never felt like this before, either, though, so I guess it makes sense that it would make me do things I’d never done. What the hell is wrong with me? This is insane-“

Dan’s heart sank. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, I understand you don’t feel the same-“

Phil’s lips were on his again and Dan let out a squeak and then a moan as Phil took his bottom lip between his teeth and pulled.

“Sorry, you were getting the wrong idea,” Phil hurried to say when he properly pulled back, hands still in Dan’s curls and holding him in place so he couldn’t chase after Phil’s lips like he so desperately wanted to. “I love you, too, not work-related. Well, I mean, sort of work-related because that’s how I fell in love with you and why I thought this would never happen and wanted a distraction and-“

Now it was Dan’s turn to interrupt Phil.

“We’ve wasted enough time already, don’t you think?” Dan gasped when he broke the kiss.

“I guess you’re right,” Phil replied. “Carry on, then.”

And “carry on” they did.

[ryewi]

When I’m with you I’m in Utopia [Chapter 5]

Summary:  9 years ago, the world split in two halves, Utopia and Dystopia. One of the laws allows citizens of both worlds to visit the other once in their lifetime, for a whole week, after which, they’re forced to return home. If by any chance, they don’t return, a death punishment is sentenced. Jeon Jungkook, a citizen of Dystopia seemed to be desperate enough to challenge that exact law.

Genre: Utopia!au, Dystopia!au, fluff, angst, drama, to be added~~

Words: 1,5k (indeed a smol chapter)

Warnings: none for now!

< Previous | Part Five | Next >

Early AN: Buildup for the next chapter, aka the first chapter where drama begins! Also an important chapter!

“The number you’re trying to dial is currently unavailable. Please call later or leave a voice message after the sig-”  

For the eighteenth time in the past last hour, Faith’s sighing echoed through a small caramel bedroom. Her touchscreen phone was thrown somewhere on the other side of the room, screen already cracked on one of its corners. Never once has her mood been this bad. The four walls seemed to close in on her, then back away each time Jungkook didn’t pick his phone up.

Where was he? Did he already go back home? Is that why she wasn’t able to contact him? Faith always despised the fact that phones worked between two people situated in the same world, just to stop whenever one of them left.

Was this how Luna felt 9 years ago?  

Luna.

Retrieving the small device that was positioned under her closet, Faith dialed the first emergency number in her contacts. It took exactly four rings for Luna to pick up, which was labeled as pretty fast, considering the time; 2:42am.

���Faith? Is everything okay?” Luna’s groggy voice came out from the other side, indicating that the woman was sleeping just a few moments ago. She sounded tired, but at the same time worried, it wasn’t every day that her little sister called up at 3am.

“I can’t sleep” Faith replied, throwing herself back on to the soft silk sheets, enjoying how soft they felt against her tender skin. Unconsciously biting her lower lip, Faith’s thoughts wandered off to Jungkook once again. Was he okay?

“Just give me a moment” Luna said, now sounding a bit better but still relatively quiet, knowing that whenever Faith couldn’t sleep, there was something going on and she needed help. Faith heard some shuffling, the sound of doors closing and then her sister once again, “Shoot”.

“Where are you?” The smaller asked, curiosity flooding her mind.

“I kind of slept with Seokjin, but that’s not why you called-”

“You what?! Luna he’s your best friend!”  

“Listen Faith, shit and mistakes happen,” Luna laughed and Faith was once again reminded why she was currently on line at 3am. Mistakes. “Now open that pretty mind and spill the tea”.

“How did you deal with your and Charlie’s situation after, you know, the split?” Faith knew that it was a touchy subject for the other, especially after 4 years of the two being together. Charlie was one in a million, everyone in Keith household was in love with this cheerful, lovely and charming person. Every time Charlie came over, Faith would abandon all homework and schoolwork for the next day just so they could talk. Luna has never been happier, and when they finally sealed the deal with beautiful golden rings, a huge celebration was created.

“Well, uh, I most definitely didn’t think you’d ask that” The older seemed all over the place, numerous memories suddenly replaying in front of her eyes. No tears were forming but the tightening of her chest was enough of an indicator that those moments still easily opened a barely healed wound.

“Is this about that Jungkook guy?” Instantly, Faith sat up, slightly amazed by the guessing skills of her sister. Of course, Luna was introduced to him, as detailed as possible, however, at the beginning, she didn’t really care. Luna knew that Faith found this guy pretty intriguing and that there definitely was something, although her sister didn’t want to admit that.

“I, well, I didn’t- yes, it is” Faith gave in, head hanging low while her free hand traced invisible circles on the soft sheets. Truthfully, she didn’t even know what kind of help she was seeking for. Was it emotional support? Was it how to plan a trip to Dystopia? Or perhaps she just needed to get something off her chest?

“Did he leave already? If my calculations are correct, he still had today and tomorrow?” Luna said, the sound of a lighter appearing somewhere near the telephone. She must be smoking as they were speaking, which the other hated the most, why would you poison yourself like that?

“I don’t know, we just, actually I fucked up” She admitted, quickly running through the story, chewing down the unimportant and spitting out important pieces. Luna only hummed in understanding, letting her little sister get everything off her chest. It was captivating, and the older wasn’t sure if Faith was conscious about how in love she sounded.  

“His eyes shone and not in a good way, I know how Jungkook’s eyes sparkle when he’s happy, he was hurt”, “His tone was cold, I felt horrible, I really was the reason behind his hurting”, “Jungkook’s voice is beautiful, alluring, relaxing, can you believe he sang twelve songs to me? Twelve songs and I still had to fuck up”, “When he was singing, he had this child like smile on his face, while his eyebrows were scrunched”

On the other side of the city, Jungkook was packing his own belongings into the same black backpack he carried the day Faith oh-so-carelessly waltzed into his life. Just when Jungkook remembered the date, the screen of his iPhone lit up for the nth time that night. It was on for just a millisecond before it turned off, signaling that the call has been blocked once again. However, that millisecond was enough for Jungkook to notice “Faith” written on the dark background.  

Jungkook knew that the way he has been acting is similar to a pussy. Running away because your past couldn’t let you think straight? Have you really fell that low, Jungkook? Was this friendship something you just had to ruin?

Standing up and approaching the door of his bedroom, the male switched a big ceiling light off. It surprised him, the way this small place still seemed lit up thanks to moonlight. Jungkook closed his eyes, resting for a moment as he sat down on the bed, fluffy covers scrunching to accommodate his strong figure.  

“You just sound like an angel, that’s all”, “Your smile reminds me of a relaxed bunny”, “Does that mean we can call each other exploring buddies from now on?”, “Is it weird that I got a sudden urge to boop your nose?”

He was an idiot. Jungkook was a fool, left and right, up and down, squared and cubed. Even though a cheeky smile played on his lips, Faith’s soft and welcoming voice didn’t bring up any kind of happiness.  

Jungkook didn’t want to admit, but he silently hoped for the other to call once again. Maybe this time he’d have enough luck to pick up the call regardless of it being blocked. Maybe this time he’d get to hear her for the last time, to tell her he was wrong, to fix his mistakes.

But the next call never arrived. The male waited, anxiety eating him alive, has she really given up? Well of course Jungkook, you blocked more than twenty calls.

Not being able to take it anymore, he picked up the small black device and with shaking hands, called her back.

“The number you’re trying to dial is currently busy. Please call later or leave a voice message after the signal. Ding.”

“Faith, I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, I don’t know what was going on in my head to snap at you like that, you’ve only ever been so kind to me” Jungkook said, voice quiet while trying to hide the way his throat thickened from the sudden rush of emotions. It might’ve been because of the clock ticking 2:45am, that he suddenly wanted to fix everything, but it also might’ve been because he genuinely cared.

“I’d ask you to call me back, but I’m sure that after all the calls I’ve blocked out you’ve given up” He chuckled, but the sound came out dry once again, emotion running away as far as possible from it. Jungkook on the other end felt a lot, he felt so many different emotions, yet somewhere in the mix of it all, his voice presented a dark and deep void where all of them disappeared. He was about to continue his monologue, but Jungkook hung up after noticing that the filter between his thoughts and mouth started disappearing. Enough damage has already been done.

Once again, a massive wave of paranoia flooded Jungkook’s mind. Every time his eyes caught on to the bag next to the wooden bed, an urge to throw it as far as possible swallowed him. As if confusion and anxiety would disappear by it, Jungkook kicked his carriage to the other side of the room, watching it slide over the parquet floor.

He didn’t want to go back, he’d rather sell his soul than go back.

His eyes caught on to a shiny metal that rested comfortably on a bedside table. The object reflected the moonlight which effortlessly made its way through an opened window. Walking closer to it, Jungkook inspected it carefully, instantly recognizing it as his brown pocket knife.  

Gulping and examining the sole weight of metal and wood, a horrible and dangerous idea flew through his head.

Maybe he just found a loophole in the system.

AN: Has Faith blocked Jungkook’s number now too? Do work your minds around that for now~~~ But let me tell y’all, the next chapter is where shit starts and all of this buildup will be worth it. Hold on tight and I’ll see you in another 3 days!