#someday ill find a way to block all ads on my phone too and i can actually live an ad-free existence even a little

[sonicunleash]

touches the glass remember when tumblr was ad free. i do. i do.

[reject-princess97]

Spencer Reid-Criminal Minds (Part 7)

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7

*Three Months Later*

"Someday I'll wish upon a star

And wake up where the clouds are far behind me

Where troubles melt like lemon drops

Oh, way above the chimney tops,

that's where you'll find me.

Somewhere over the rainbow

Skies are blue..." I sang softly as I rocked my son gently as he cried for his dad, who was away, working on a case, but would be back pretty soon.

"And the dreams that you dare to dream

Really do come true" He crying Quietened down slowly as I sang.

"If happy little bluebirds fly above the rainbow," I watched as AJ's eyes fluttered closed and my voice became softer as I lay him down his his crib.

"Why, Oh, why can't I? " I finished as I switched off the light and left the room hoping he would finally sleep.

I manged to clean up a little and finally sit down when I felt my phone buzz. I pulled if out to find Spencer was calling. I pulled the phone to my ear and smiled when I heard his voice.

"Y/N, hey, hows everything going? Hows Alex?" He asked immediately.

"We're both doing fine Spence, Alex's medication did his job and he's back to our normal smiley, happy baby boy." I told him. "Except when he 's missing you of course." I chuckle.

"I miss him too, both of you but t's OK, because I'm on my way home and I have the whole weekend off." He told me and I could hear the excitement in hi voice . "I'll be home in half and hour." He told me.

"Well, I'll try and wait up but if I'm asleep when you get home, don't be surprised." I laughed. Spencer chuckled and we said our good byes.

I lay my head on the couch and sighed as I let Doctor Who play on the TV while I snuggled one of Spencer's shirts. Something I did a lot when Spencer was away was wear one of his shirts and a pair of my PJ shorts, His shirts smelt just like him and it always calmed me and it seemed to relax AJ too.

*About 2 am*

I was woken by the sound of AJ crying, but i soon stopped and from the baby monitor, I heard Spencer talking to our son. I sat up and looked around to see I was somehow in my bed, my socks had been taken off and my duvet was wrapped around me.

I jumped when I heard my name from the baby monitor.

"Y/N, I know you're awake, so go back to sleep, I'll deal with Alex tonight." Spencer said, knowing full well I was up. I laughed and pulled my phone out and sent a quick 'I love you xx' text to Spencer before I fell back to my pillow, quickly falling asleep.  

*The Next Morning*

I woke up the next morning, snuggled into my boyfriends arms, My head resting on his chest. I smiled as I looked up to see Spencer passed out, his hair falling over his face a little, His mouth opened slightly and as I moved his arms tightened around me.

I lay there happily until I heard the quiet sounds of AJ's Coos, meaning he was awake. I very carefully, without waking Spencer up, stood from the bed and walked into the next room where I found my son, laying awake, 'talking' to his mobile that hung from above the crib, that was filled with bright coloured fish, a gift from Henry and Michael, JJ's Boys.

Well, good morning my beautiful boy, how are you this morning?" I asked as I lifted his from his crib and held him close. When he heard my voice he smiled and as I lift him up he let out a loud screech of excitement.

"Well, hello to you too." I laugh as I grabbed his favourite teddy, a small blue bare Jack had brought him when he visited with Hotch, I also grabbed his blanket that Spencer's mum had made him. It was grey with is name stitched in, well 'Alexander-James' as his full name was too long.

After grabbing his things I carried AJ  into Mine and Spencer's room where I lay him in between Spencer and I. I grabbed 'Peter Pan', something I was currently reading to Him. As I read AJ cooed and I felt the bed shift. As AJ let out a loud squeal I looked over to see Spencer was awake and was listening to me read to our son while he played.

"Hey!" He protested with a smiled as I stopped reading. "I was enjoying that." he sulked, making me laughed, coursing AJ to let out giggle too.

"Well, good morning to you too, Dr. Reid." I Chuckled as Spencer Carefully sat up in the bed and picked AJ up.

"Good morning babe." He grinned as he lent over and kissed me softly.

Spencer pulled away with a groan as his phone rang. He reached for it but I  dived over his legs and grabbed it. I smiled when I saw the caller ID read 'JJ'.

"This is Dr Y/N Prentiss, you've reached Dr Spencer Reid's phone, How can I help you?" I chattered into the phone. I heard JJ laugh.

"Good morning Dr Prentiss, is Dr Reid there?" She asked.

"He's with a patient at the moment. Is there something I can help you with?" I joked. I could feel her head shaking her head at my silliness as she chuckled.

"Well, I just called to see if him and his girlfriend were free to join me and the boys for coffee?" She asked.

"I'll see if I can reach him, hold please..." I said as I pulled the phone away from my ear. "JJ wants to meet for coffee...are we free?" I asked Spencer who laughed and nodded.

"Miss JJ, he and his wonderful, amazing, bad-ass girlfriend are in fact free to join you in an hour from now, is that OK by you?" I asked her. JJ answered yes and said she'll text Reid the details before we said our goodbyes and hung up the phone.

"You're and Idiot." Spencer chuckled as I climbed off his legs and pulled our son from is arms.

"Aww, I love you too Spencer," I smiled as he stoop up and walked off towards the bathroom.

"Well little man, we're going to see Aunt JJ, so let's get you dressed." I cooed as I picked AJ up and took him into his bedroom. I placed him on his bed. I waved over to his draws and pulled out a vest, a white shirt, a pair of black jeans and a pair of converse, baby size of course.

I changed him into his outfit, adding a bib, white with a picture a black bow tie and a black cardigan.

"There you go, all dressed and looking handsome." I gushed as I picked him up and carried him back to Spence and I's room. Spencer walked out of the bathroom and over to his closet and changed into a black shirt, black trousers and a black tie.

"Wow." I smiled as I pulled Spencer's shirt that I slept in, over my head. "You look like you're going to a funeral." I shook my head.

"Maybe I am." He told me as he pulled on a pair of sun glasses, obviously quoting my favourite movie, Walk The Line.

"Yeah OK Johnny Cash, how about you go make some bottles for your son?" I instructed as he laughed. He chuckled nodding as he walked over and kissed me before he picked up our son and walked out, leaving me to change.

I pulled on a dark green shirt, a pair of black skinny jeans. I added my favourite pair of converse. I let my hair fall into it's usual do before I grabbed  my phone and AJ's changing bag before I walked out to see Spencer strapping AJ into his stroller.

"I thought we'd walk, the cafe is only a few blocks down and JJ is walking too." Spence smiled when he noticed I was stood behind him. "Here," He smiled as he took the changing bag and handed me my coat.

After checking we had everything we left the house and began our walk to the cafe JJ had picked.

"Spence?" I said, breaking our comfortable silence as we crossed over a road.

"Mmm?" he hummed as turn his head to look at me.

"Am I doing the right thing, coming back to work I mean?" I asked.

"How do you mean?" He asked, place his hand over my back.

"Well, I love working for the BAU, you know that, but I'm not sure I'm ready to go back, to leave AJ." I told him, feeling conflicted. This was something I had been fighting with for a while and with it being so close, my first day back at work, I need help.

"Well, I do see were you're coming from, but I can't really help you. I mean  love Alexander, you know that, but the BAU is my job and it's what I'm ment to do." He told me. "But if you're not ready to come back, talk to Hotch, I;m sure he will understand." Spencer reassured me.

"Maybe, I'm just being silly." I sighed.

"Maybe you could talk to JJ about it, she's had two boys so she's done it twice. Maybe she can help ease your mind." Spencer offered. By the time our conversation had ended we were at the cafe and as we entered Spencer was immediately tackled by Henry who ran at him for a hug.

"Uncle Spencer!" He shouted. Spencer laughed and pulled I'm into a hug as I pushed the pram over to the table JJ and Michael were sat at.

"JJ, Hi." I smiled as she stood up and hugged me.

"Y/n, how are you?" She asked as she poked her head into the stroller to see AJ.

"We're both find, we missed Spencer a lot this week and AJ has been a little ill but he's fine. Nothing to worry about." I told her as I pulled AJ out the Stroller and handed him to JJ "You wanna cuddle?" I asked as she took him and smiled.

"You know I do."

Spencer ordered some food for us all, including Will who was on his way and soon we were all enjoying coffee and food, having a right laugh as we did.

"Hey, JJ, how was it going back to work after the were born?" I asked, she looked over and smiled softly.

"Well, I won't lie to you, it was hard, especially the child abduction cases. But it got better, knowing they were safe with Will or the Nanny." She told me, "You worried about coming back to work?" she asked.

"A little, just don't feel right about leaving him so soon." I shrugged.

"Well, to be honest, it will be hard at first, but it will get better and when the next one comes along it won't be any easier." She chuckled.

By now we had finished our coffee and the boys were bugging Will to take them to the park.

JJ asked if we wanted to tag along but I decided wanting to go home and spend some time with both Spencer and our son.

"So..." Spencer spoke up as we entered the house. AJ sound asleep. "Did JJ help any?"

"Yeah, she did. I mean, I love Alex, but the BAU is my family too and they need both the geek squad to keep them from sinking in cases." I told him, making his laugh. I took AJ out of his stroller and put him in his bed.

"Good, because I really miss you at work." he whispered, placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

"Now AJ is asleep, I think we should take advantage of the quite." Spencer whispered seductively. I smirked and pulled him by his tie to our bedroom.

"Most definitely." I winked before closing our bedroom door for some well deserved and needed alone time with my boyfriend.

[destroyyourbinder]

looking at instagram

There are hazy pictures of children having fun in spring-green new grass, the sun or maybe the filter sparkling. A photo of a man laughing, relaxed, he's wearing a soft cotton shirt, and it's not wrinkled. Dynamic black and white photos of people my acquaintance knows, a coworker, herself, their skin texture looks like granite, like muslin, like acrylic sculpting medium, like something under lights that's very "Interesting," to men in glasses holding wine and pontificating like bowerbirds strutting over little pebbles and bits of fur.

I'm angry. I look like dough, like a laundry pile at the end of a week, maybe two. I'm custard piled on itself, dingy men's shorts pulled up way too high over the bottom dollop. Nobody's captivated by my pock marks or my uneven peach fuzz. I look like who my mom was afraid I was going to be, except I'm not even that exciting, I'm a monster made of felt cut out by shaky kindergarten hands and unraveling tape. Dandruff gets under my fingers when I scratch my head. There's no social media where I can post the sensation of my stomach gurgling after I eat fistfuls of mozzarella from the fridge, and nobody would Like it anyway. When I shave my head there is no confident, bold, sharp picture I can take, tattooed and muscular arm curved up over my new haircut to casually hold the phone. There's just tiny bits of hair in the bathroom rug and yellow light that makes my face look puffier than I thought it was.

I feel the bile rise in my throat. So-and-so bought a house, my sister bought a house, friend after friend after friend is having a dinner party, moving to California, getting married at a place with "Estate" in the name. There's pictures, lots of pictures, of breezy nights and big smiles, a colorful world of delight and ease, everything I wanted from life incarnated in the bodies of straight people and lesbians prettier and happier than me. I pull a piece of cat hair out of my teeth and listen to the neighbors shouting at each other on the street, and I imagine what it would be like if my body didn't ache, didn't feel like a jumble of nonsense the consistency of dogshit and balsa wood. My apartment smells like mold. I make nine-sixty-something an hour after taxes. I don't know how to use Instagram because at twenty-whatever I've managed to become both old and out of touch, but I do know how to let Instagram make me feel bad.

In the photo, a guy I know looks rugged, cheeky, like a man with a story to tell but who might pull a quarter out from behind your ear instead. In reality, he's an old gay guy who both lurches and flops about at the same time, his too-large T-shirts hanging off his hunched shoulders. When he's feeling sprightly, he does a little ungainly but joyful Charleston, a grin on his face goofier than his little kicks, which show off the dirty bottoms of his fluorescent Converse shoes. I see him a lot in the back office at work or the break room, which are dim and yellow, making his ruddy face and greying stubble an undifferentiated jowly mass. But this guy also has lots of pictures of his own, that he shows me sometimes, of himself when young, with friends all dressed up in alternative 80s gear, all eyeliner and teased white hair. He smiles when he flips through the pictures. I don't know what he is remembering. I see a lot of cool people I've never met; he tells me this picture was even used in an ad for a local fashion hotspot back in the day. Then, swiping up and down with his fingers, still smiling but using a tone of voice that's a particularly terrifying variety of cheerful sarcasm, he tells me most of the people in these pictures are dead.

He knows I know why.

When I scroll through that woman's Instagram I am angry, maybe, because there's nobody to see me, nobody to remember what I did. The endless dullness that characterizes my days is not something I myself remember; I have the barest sense at all, even, that it is too dull for memory. There is something particularly disgusting to me that this is how most women have lived their lives, a parade of dishes and diapers, the inside of their heads taken up by minutiae about the state of the carpet and lists of birthdays. I've fallen headfirst into it, softly, like a particularly cushy pie on a grandmother's windowsill or the pillowy bosom of a schoolmarm. As a child I was particularly offended I was not noticed for who I was, or who I thought myself to be, at least, and what my mom did manage to notice was a nitpicking ritual of continual impropriety; what was on the floor but shouldn't be, what spot I missed on the counter with a sponge, which hairs were out of place and what crumbs were in the corners of my lips, what smile wasn't on my face and when. In retrospect I don't know if I was more offended on my behalf or hers, and if I was a selfish little shit about it whether I was more enraged by the idea that I was lost under her omnipresent fussing or that my proper development into a woman involved filling my head with such an eye.

I used to scream at her that I would not become like her, and I guess I didn't. I'm gay, for one, and live in a city, full of the types of people she imagines when she neurotically checks and rechecks the locks on her doors. I don't have children, a husband, a credit card, a mortgage, but I do have what I never wanted from the legacy of women, which is enormous spans of time where I fiddle with a sponge, a spoon, tiny meaningless papers, buttons on a cash register. As a child-- and embarrassingly, as an adult ill-prepared for reality-- I screamed because I insisted by the declaration of my lungs that my life would be different, it would be about intensity, perceptiveness, truth, integrity, adventures, journeys, big huge concepts that would bowl me over and spill out of me like a living mystic channeling forces of the universe. I used to read for hours and hours as a child, usually epic fantasy or science fiction I probably shouldn't have been allowed to put into my prepubescent brain; sometimes I used to hang upside down off the couch and read upside down just for the hell of it, to shake my world up a bit. I moved onto philosophy and hours of mopey music through headphones in the dark when I got older. I was delusional about what my life would be like, about what life would make me into. The big huge concept that would end up bowling me over was mediocrity, mundaneness, the stuff men on Reddit call women "vapid" for.

Hannah Arendt was a really smart woman, the kind of woman I thought I might be someday. She said a whole lot of shit that was really deep, and when I was still chasing the highs of thinking that there were neat-o discoveries to be made in this world that made you Somebody to see them, I thought that "the banality of evil" was the most profound thing I ever heard. When I encountered it for real it wasn't profound, just banal indeed. Evil is soul-sucking in a special fucking way, it sucks the life out of you in the way that alcohol shuts off first the part of your brain that lets you know you're drunk. Something's gone and you're all screwed up about it but you're gone in a way that won't let you know what left, there's just rage disguised as irritability and crud on the counter and a bus that doesn't show up. Sometimes you get to look right into the sucking hole, a yawning abyss of multi-generational societal depravity and institutional apathy, when you're sitting next to a homeless woman on a bench downtown with legs so swollen she couldn't go anywhere even if she had someplace to go. I gave her five dollars on most days of my commute because I hoped at least she could eat something, and she deserved the dignity of being seen by somebody, but honestly she needed somewhere to sleep and a bunch of somebodies to do something about her health. A lot of fucking evil had to happen to a lot of people for buildings full of suits to exist on the same block as this lady. A lot of fucking evil had to happen for people to accept this as normal.

What evil has to happen for women to accept their lot, whether it's accepting that the cumulative buzz of your life-inspiration be directed towards holding up a glass in a particularly enrapturing photo on Instagram, or whether it's accepting that you're gonna have to spend another night on the bench? I cry sometimes knowing that no one will remember my mother; all she will leave behind is a gravestone next to a man's and a legacy of psychological scars on her daughters, who nobody will bother to remember either. My mother's life is worth a book or two, but I couldn't get it out of her even if I tried. I don't think my mom even knows she has a story, just petty dramas she tries to escalate into a validation that she hasn't disappeared yet because she can hurt somebody. I don't know the homeless lady's story or how she ended up begging on a bench downtown each day. I hope with all my heart she finds a place to live out her life, a little home where she can use a scooter and have enough to eat, where five dollars isn't the difference between confirmation of the world's cruelty and God's presence. She showed me a video once on her phone of a preacher that she followed, a woman who she said she saw at a big church event in the South; she could go places once, and I don't know how she ended up so she couldn't go anywhere anymore. Maybe she doesn't know-- maybe when you can't go anywhere anymore the point is that you don't think you got there and you don't think you're getting out, you're just there right now, but also always were and somehow forever will be. Maybe you're watching buses go by all damn day and feeling your tongue go numb from saying "spare a dollar", or maybe your finger's getting red from wiping the snot under your kid's nose, time passing only when the tissues are gone. They don't take shots of this shit. There's no filter for "life's over, but not yet."

I wish what I felt could become great art, maybe even just shitty art, that it could mean something, that I was something; dudes have generations of scholarship-worship trailing behind them because they wrote paeans to being existentially bored, because they discovered what it's like to look at a damn soup can and slapped it in a museum. Maybe I'm just jealous, but, you know, I used to stock groceries, and I spent a lot of my time looking at damn soup cans. I think I now know why Val shot him.

[faetheralrecs]

Isn’t Life Strange? || Chapter III

Hey guys! Hope y’all are fine! I was ill again last week but fortunately I’m feeling better now! I modified this chapter a bit, I added some descriptions and removed some dialogues, I’m currently writing the 6th chapter, but every week I come back to the previous chapters to check if they are not too hum bad? And since they are, I take some time to make slight modification and I can’t progress on the chapter I was supposed to write but anyway hopefully someday I won’t have to come back to old chapters! 

I’m a bit worried about the pace I write the chapters honestly, I have to concentrate on college right now cause my second semester started and I don’t want to fail! Hope I’ll make it!

Anyway! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Genre: Mature (strong language, mentions of drugs use, suicide, death) but still a bit of fluff in the future.

Members: Yoongi x Reader

Word count: 2625

Summary: You wake up in class after a far too realistic dream and discover you can now rewind time.

You made your way to the dorms. When you arrived, you noticed Eunjin and her friends (or should you say minions?) sitting on the red brick stairs of the building, in front of the door, blocking the way. Of course... You took a deep breath to gather your courage and walked up to them.

When you where close enough to make your presence noticeable, Eunjin was the first one to speak.

“Oh look, it’s Y/N   Y/L/N, the selfie whore of this college.”

She got up and turned around you like a vulture, observing you from head to toe and then proceeded. 

“What a lame gimmick. Even Ji- Mr.Kim falls for your waif hipster bullshit. ‘The Daguerreian Process, sir!’ You could barely even say that. I guess you got your meds filled.”

She sat down again and laughed with her petty gang. 

“Since you know all the answers, I guess you have to find another way into the dorm. We ain't moving.” She marked a small pose before her face lit up from a sudden brilliant idea “Oh wait, hold that pose!”

She pulled out her phone from her short black skirt suit, and took a picture of you. You were just awkwardly standing there, your right hand holding your left forearm, your timidity clearly showing and all your previous courage vanishing from your body in front of your bully.

“So original. Don't worry Y/N, I'll put a vintage filter on it right before I post it all over social medias. Now, why don't you go fuck your selfie?” She ended curtly.

You walked away from the entrance of the dorm and tried to find a solution. Oh yes Eunjin, I'll get your boney ass out of my way.

You looked around you and saw Young Gu, the janitor, getting out of the custodial room and leaving the door open.  You entered and activated the watering system. You looked through the door and saw Eunjin’s clothes and the dorms’ steps being drenched by the high pressure of the watering system. Eunjin got up from her spot but she was still blocking the way.

You looked around and saw Young Gu climbing a ladder with a paint can in his right hand to get to a scaffolding which was right above the dorms stairs. You remembered that a few moment ago the man was occupied in his custodial room, so you decided to rewind time. Everything that happened in the last 2 minutes replayed backward in front of your eyes, tingles tickling your fingertips and the palm of your right hand. Now that Young Gu was back in the custodial room and Eunjin on her stairs, you discreetly tampered with the paint can to make it fall when Young Gu would hang it on a hook on the scaffolding. You waited for him to get out of the room and then you quickly made your way to it to activate the watering system. You peeked out to see the scene. Eunjin was soaked again and, few seconds later, the paint can that Young Gu had just fixed on the hook fell to the ground and stained Eunjin’s once immaculate skirt and blouse with white paint.

The said girl started to scream and curse in terror, her minions asking frightened if everything was fine and if they could be of any use. Eunjin ordered her friends to get her towels to clean up the mess that were her closes and the two girls complied, running as fast as they could inside the dorms. The poor Young Gu walked up to her to apologize but Eunjin only screamed at her to leave her alone. She sat down on the cold, wet stairs and waited grumpily for her saviors to come back with the well needed equipment.

You were happily celebrating your victory in your mind, having a small victory dance inside your head before you approached Eunjin slowly after she had calmed down from the accident. This time, you started the conversation since you were the one in superior position now. Still, you talked to her with a smooth, calm voice to avoid any argument.

“Uh... Hey, Eunjin.” You started. “ What do you want, Y/N?” She replied bored “I am sorry, that's an awesome outfit… “You said truthfully. “It was, but there will be another. “She replied sadly. “ Well, you always seem to know how to pick the right outfits. “ “ I do have some talent, Mr.Kim told me- “

She decided not to end her sentence. So instead you decided to compliment her about her pictures and how she had an ‘Avendon-esque’ style. She seemed really flustered, telling you he was one of her heroes, a kind smile adorning her lips. At least she seemed less angered about the incident and you weren’t arguing anymore, for now. You were surprised to see this soft side of the girl, but it quickly disappeared with her next sentence, filled with anger. “I hope those sluts get me a towel before they hang a sign on me. “

Eunjin pulled her phone out and shifted on the right side of the steps before she spoke to you again carefully, as if looking for the right words.

“You deserve a better shot. Sorry about blocking you and...and the ‘go fuck your selfie’.” “That was mean… but pretty funny.” You lied with a lip tight awkward smile. “Just one of those days, you know?” Eunjin asked. “I know exactly what you mean, Eunjin. I'll see you later.” “Au revoir.”

Since Eunjin wasn’t in the way anymore, you climbed the small steps and finally entered the building after few minutes of hard work to get into the building. The dorm rooms were pretty comfortable, large and especially individual. As you entered your floor’s hallway, you saw Jayeon and Minju running with towels toward the door you had just come from. You were walking past Jimin’s room when you noticed the message on his whiteboard had been changed by someone, and its new content was insulting to Jimin. Okay, this is just mean and stupid. You cleaned the whiteboard and put a peace sign on it instead, at least the poor boy wouldn’t have to read such absurdities.

You entered your room and searched for the flash drive, but all you found was a post-it paper.

Hey girl, I borrowed your drive so I can watch some flix while I study. If you need it back, just track me down in my room. XOXO, D.

“Great, Now I have to go get the flash drive from Darya's room.” You sighed but still walked to Darya’s room, which was on the other end of the hallway compared to your room. When you got out of your room, you saw Juliet, Darya’s best friend, locking Darya’s up in her own room.

“You can't get out now, Darya! So tell me the truth, or rot in there!” Juliet screamed loud enough for her friend locked inside to hear. “Welcome to "The real Drama Queens of B.A.C” You whispered, your eyes tolling in the back of your head and an annoyed sigh leaving your lips.

“Hey Juliet, is everything cool?” You asked “Oh, yes Y/N, I've locked Darya in her room because we're ‘cool’.” “What did she do ?” you asked, curious.

She explained how she found out that Darya was sexting with her boyfriend behind her back, and when you asked her how she had found out about all this matter, she quickly snapped at you, insulting you of being a loner with your camera, but the remark didn’t hurt you since she wasn’t totally wrong and you were kind of  intruding her private life. But then, after she took a deep breath to calm down and apologized for her behavior, she eventually told you.

“According to Eunjin, Darya would do anything to date a dancer.” “According to Eunjin, huh?” This new info peaked your interest. “She saw the sext! And Yugyeom won't answer his phone. Once Darya admits, she can go. Straight.To.Hell.” The silence was suddenly interrupted by Darya talking through the door. “Y/N, I swear I didn't do ANYTHING! But I bet Eunjin did! I know the proof is in her room!”

Honestly, you had enough of Eunjin and the repercussions her actions had on B.A.C and its students. You got to Eunjin’s room and sought for a proof. You searched on her computer and find the mail you needed. It was a conversation between Eunjin and Minju explaining how Eunjin had made everything up and how Juliet had believed the whole thing, even making fun of her in the meantime. Boom! This is the e-mail I need to show Juliet. Now I have to print this fast and get the hell out of here... Once the e-mail was printed you showed it to Juliet who freed Darya from her prison. The two friends reunited after some apologizes and a hug. You entered her room and took your flash drive, Darya took this as an advantage to thank you.

“Seriously, thanks again. I can't believe Juliet lock me in my own room. Real mature.” “Eunjin is not nice, I don't get it, she has everything. And to pull that prank on a friend.” Darya scoffed “Just because they're in the Vortex Club doesn't mean they're ‘BFF's’, I'm in it and Eunjin creeps me out. Y/N, you're smart to be a loner here, though Hoseok obviously likes hanging with you...” “What do you mean?” you asked incredulously Darya mentioned a folder made by Hoseok and named with your first name, but you quickly ended the conversation, feeling uneasy. You were walking out of the dorm area when you got another text from Hoseok.

Hobi: I don't mind waiting out here forever, I love this parking lot, I can’t count all the cars ... Y/N: The more I text the longer a take. Y/N: On my way. Hobi: bye.

You walked through the gates of the dorm area and saw Gwon Minsang, the security guard bullying Jimin. This was the second person he would take his anger on today, and you were quite fed up by his behavior, so you intervene. “Hey, why don't you leave him alone ?” “Excuse us, this is official campus business-“ the security guard answered “Excuse me, you shouldn't be yelling at students, or bullying them.” “Hey, hey, nobody is bullying anybody, I'm doing my job.” “No, you're not.” He approached you and looked right in your eyes. “You're part of the problem, missy. I will remember this conversation.”

He left the scene and Jimin thanked you multiple times, which you only acknowledge with a small nod in return. You made your way toward the parking lot and saw Hoseok in the distance.

“And there's Hoseok!” “Hey! What's up Y/N!” He said cheerfully, he extended his arms to hug you, but you didn’t notice the gesture and took out his flash drive from your bag. He quickly crossed arms on his torso as if nothing had happened. You took out the flash drive from your jean’s back pocket and handed it to him, thanking him for letting you borrow it. He delicately took the device from your fingers and put it in his jeans front pocket. “No problem. So, hum, you okay?” “It's been one strange fucking day.” You said with a tired sigh. Hoseok asked you if you had gotten a chance to check out the movies he had on his flash drive, and thankfully you had, so you talked for at least 10 minutes about all the great new movies he had stocked on his flash drive. You even debated and laughed for few minutes about the fact that Hoseok indeed was a thief for having illegal copies of those movies, but the boy preferred the term “cultural pirate connoisseur”. It sure sounded better than thief. After some time Hoseok offered you to go out for a movie night in his new car this week but you weren’t really listening. You were thinking about what had happened today because Hoseok had put yourself in a calm and reassured state so your brain could wander and create theories about Kim Namjoon and this mysterious boy in the toilets.

You friend noticed that you were distracted and made you come back to earth by pressing his face in your cheek with a high piercing scream and a huge smile adorning his lips. You gently pushed his face out of yours with your hand and took a quick look at your friend. His hair was parted in the front, probably a result of the tiring day, and his forehead was showing between the strands of hair. He was wearing a long sleeves shirt, but he had rolled them on his forearm since the weather was still warm. His light blue jeans were covered in stylish wholes and scratches and he was wearing his usual huge and colorful Balenciaga sneakers, the ones you one day had the misfortune to call “ugly”, to which he had replied that they were comfortable.  

After some time you told your friend that you needed to talk to someone, to vent about your crazy day. Hoseok was a bit worried by your more than ever serious tone, his tone losing all playfulness and ready to listen carefully to everything you had to say. “I need to talk to somebody... just to get it out of my system… For real Hoseok, this is between you and me.” “Y/N, go on.” “I had this incredibly bizarro experience in Mr.Kim’s class today... I mean, life changing. Have you ever had a dream, so real it was like a movie?”

You were talking about your strange experience when your heard someone’s steps approaching your way in a frightening fast pace. You looked up and saw Kim Namjoon.

“Y/N  Y/L/N , right ? You’re one of Kim’s photo groupies.” The male said furiously. “I'm one of his students.” You corrected. Hoseok sensing danger, tried to move in front of you but Namjoon pushed him out of the way. “Whatthefuckever. I know you like to take pictures, especially when you're hiding in the bathrooms. You better tell me what you told me the Principal. Now !” “I told him the truth. A student had a gun.” “No, you told him I had a gun, that's why he dragged me into his office.” Namjoon retorted angrily. “And did what? Give you a stern lecture?” You replied with the exact same ferocity “Nobody, nobody lectures me. Everybody tries though... they try ...” “You should talk to somebody, Namjoon.” You said with pity. “Do not analyze me, I pay people for that, worry about yourself, Y/N  Y/L/N.” You were feeling oppressed now that Namjoon was right in front of you, few centimeters from your face so you told him to take a step back, but Namjoon wasn’t having it.

“Oh, you're telling me what to do?”

He took out scissors from the pocket of his jeans, Hoseok tried to intervene but Namjoon stabbed him on the cheek, Hoseok fell on the floor and Namjoon approached him. You tried to divert Namjoon from your friend, but he took out his anger on you instead and grabbed you by the neck, putting enough force to block any air from getting in your lungs. His grip was getting stronger and stronger, so to get out of his hold you scratched him in the face and he finally released you. You fell on the floor and heard a car braking quickly behind you. You turn around and used the rusty car’s hood to get up when you saw a familiar face in the driver seat. Both of your eyes widening.

“Y/N?”