#this video had to have been filmed on a camcorder i swear but shes so cute

[leemiya]

LEE CHAEYEON HUSH RUSH JACKET BEHIND

#this video had to have been filmed on a camcorder i swear but shes so cute #chaeyeon #lee chaeyeon #izone #femaleidolsedit #femadolsedit #idolady #ksoloists #kgoddesses #ggnet #dazzllingidolsedit #ultkpopnetwork #rosieblr #isaishi #ninisdarlings #*gifs #*chaeyeon #happy day after day after comeback these are over a month old lmao

[dixons-sunshine]

Imagine this…. for the young daryl X young reader au

Reader has a camcorder which she carries around when her and daryl go on little trips and they end up finding it again after years for whatever reason and it’s a nice little fluffy scene where they relive earlier times together before everything

A Trip Down Memory Lane | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: While unpacking your things for your new apartment with Daryl, you stumbled across an old video camera you had used to film little moments between you and Daryl in your teen years. A visit down memory lane gives Daryl the push he needed to ask you something important.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre outbreak.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 1.5k

A/n: This request was so cute! I hope you don't mind that I paired it with another idea I had. It just seemed like it would fit perfectly. And I made Daryl romantic in this because he's a romantic deep down.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Dear god, what the fuck was I thinking? That style was horrible!”

Daryl laughed at your comment, pulling you closer into his side. “I think ya looked cute. Kinda like Minnie Mouse in a way.”

“That doesn't make it any less horrible. Polka dots and frilly pink headbands are not my thing,” you laughed, skipping to the next video on the video camera you had found.

You and Daryl were in the midst of unpacking the boxes with all of your things. The two of you had just recently found a cheap enough apartment to rent and were busy organising everything when you had stumbled upon an old video camera that you had used when you were teenagers. Everything else was quickly forgotten as you and Daryl sat in the middle of what should be the living room, surrounded by a bunch of boxes as you took a trip down memory lane.

“Fuck, please tell me tha' ain't me,” Daryl groaned when a younger version of him appeared on the screen. “Jesus, buddy. Ya ever heard of sunlight? It'd do ya good to work on yer tan. Ya look like a fuckin' sheet of paper.”

You chuckled at the comment, nodding your head in agreement. “You do kinda look pale in this.”

“Looks like I needed at least 50 blood transfusions. M'surprised I didn't drop dead back then,” Daryl agreed, shaking his head in disapproval of his former self. “Can't believe s'already been a decade. Feels like jus' yesterday when we were back in yer mom's trailer.”

“Time flies. Now we're moving in to what is hopefully our last apartment for a while. You've got a great job down at that motorcycle repair shop and I've got a great teaching gig,” you replied, placing the video camera down next to you.

Daryl nodded. “Mhm,” he agreed, before giving you a playful smile. “Dun' know 'bout yer gig, though. Those five year olds are gremlins. They're gon' eat ya alive when ya start on Monday. Ya dun' stand a chance.”

You faked an offended gasp and shoved him lightly, eliciting a laugh from him. “I'll have you know, Mr Dixon, that I'm more than capable of handling a couple of five year olds. I've been doing it for two years.”

Daryl smiled and pulled you closer into his side, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Yeah, I know. S'those high schoolers yer plannin' on teachin' one day tha's gon' eat ya up. Teenagers are the real ones ya should look out for.”

“Luckily that won't be for a while. I'm quite content on just teaching the little ones for now,” you responded, nuzzling your face into his chest. “And teenagers aren't that bad. Most of them are just misunderstood. Some of them are in situations a lot like—”

Despite cutting yourself off, Daryl knew exactly what you meant. If it were any other person, Daryl would've gotten pissed, but it wasn't just any other person. It was you, the love of his life, the person who's stuck with him despite everything, because of everything. He wouldn't fault you for one slip up. God only knows he'd said so much worse a couple of years ago, but you forgave him.

You were amazing to him like that.

“Situations a lot like wha' I went through,” Daryl finished for you, letting out a deep sigh.

“Sorry,” you hurriedly apologised, pulling back slightly to look into your boyfriend's eyes. “I didn't mean to bring it up. I—”

A tender kiss to your lips shut you up instantly. When Daryl pulled back, he gave you a reassuring smile. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he'd get mad at you for one minor slip of the tongue.

“S'alrigh',” he reassured you. “M'not mad. And yer righ'. There's way too many kids tha' go through wha' I went through. Tha's why any highschool would be lucky to have ya. Ya could help a lot of kids in situations like tha'. No, ya will help a lot of kids in situations like tha'. Jus' like ya helped me.”

You smiled and gently cupped his cheek, bringing him into a sweet kiss. “I love you,” you whispered when you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.

“I love ya too. More than ya'll ever know,” he responded, before pulling away and reaching for something in his pocket. “But maybe this will give ya a glimmer of how much I love ya.”

You gasped in surprise, happy tears welling up in your eyes. A choked up laugh escaped you, ecstasy flooding through your body as your eyes flickered between the man you loved and the small, round object he held delicately between his fingers.

A ring.

“I know this ain't the most expensive ring out there, and it dun' have some big diamond in the middle tha's worth more than this apartment, but m'hopin' s'enough. If I could get a better one, I would, and I will someday. Someday when I finally get promoted and yer teachin' high schoolers, when we dun' have to worry 'bout rent and shit like tha'.”

You smiled through your tears, another small laugh escaping. “Daryl—”

“Nah, please let me finish 'fore I chicken out,” he cut you off. When you nodded, he continued. “Ya've always been there fer me. Ever since we were twelve and ya started joinin' me by tha' river. When I needed ya the most, ya were always there with a reassurin' smile and a willin' ear. Then ya became my girlfriend ten years ago, and despite everythin', ya've stuck with me. Despite my outbursts, my baggage, my brother...”

You laughed at that. “I really don't like your brother.”

Daryl chuckled and nodded. “I know, but ya stayed. Fer ten years now, ya've been by my side. Yer my best friend, my partner in crime, the love of my life, and there's no one I wanna spend the rest of my days with than the beautiful, kind, funny, smart woman right in front of me. Yer my ray of sunshine, the one who always manages to make me feel better.”

Daryl adjusted himself until he was on one knee in front of you. Your breath got caught in your throat, and you scrambled to sit on your knees, your eyes sparkling in wonder as the ring glinted in the light.

“Sunshine, would ya do me the honour of bein' my wife?”

Words completely eluded you at that moment. You quickly grabbed his face and brought him into a kiss, that particular kiss conveying more than words ever could. When you pulled away, you smiled softly at him.

“Yes, I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask.”

Daryl let out a sigh of relief and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, tha' was nerve wrackin'.”

You laughed as you pulled away from the hug. “I bet. You know, for a man of few words, that speech was kind of incredible. It definitely beat the one I had planned for you.”

Daryl frowned in confusion. “Wha' speech fer me?”

Nervously, you reached into your own pocket and pulled out a silver band. Daryl's eyes widened in surprise as you showed him the ring you had.

“I was kinda getting fed up with waiting for you to pop the question, so I was gonna take matters into my own hands.”

Daryl let out a laugh of surprise and shook his head. “Wow,” he mused. “Gender roles be damned, huh?”

“Damn straight,” you agreed, before motioning to the ring in his hand. “You can slip the ring on my finger, Mr Dixon.”

Complying with your request, he slipped the ring onto your finger. Before you even had to ask, Daryl extended his left hand to you. You smiled and slipped his own ring onto his finger.

Looking at the ring, Daryl smiled fondly. “Ya continue to surprise me everyday, Mrs Dixon.”

“I'm not a Dixon yet,” you reminded him, allowing him to pull you into his arms for the millionth time that day. “But I could be one soon. Maybe tomorrow, even.”

“Ya suggestin' we elope?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at the idea—an idea that sounded absolutely perfect to him. “Yer mom would kill us if she found out.”

“Well,” you began, admiring the ring on your finger. “It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Besides, we don't need some elaborate wedding to show how much we love each other. All we need is each other, and someone willing to officiate. We can go to the courthouse tomorrow.”

“Tha' sounds absolutely perfect,” Daryl agreed, pressing a kiss to your head.

“By the way, if you buy me another ring in the future to replace this one, I will be pissed. This ring is perfect.”

“Whatever makes ya happy, Mrs Dixon. I love ya.”

“I love you too.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐ #shopping spree hangout dreams #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus #young!daryl #young!daryl dixon #young daryl dixon

[vivisextion]

I first saw Slipknot at age 14.

No one knows how I managed it. I'm not sure I even remember. These days, you have to be 16 or 18 to get into Standing areas. I do know I had to buy tickets on the phone, back in the old days (2005, that is). A singular ticket, too - none of my friends, not even the classmate who had gone with me to see Linkin Park the year before, was that into Slipknot.

But I HAD to see them. This was the Subliminal Verses tour cycle, and Vol. 3 was my first and favourite Slipknot album, even to this day. It's the reliable old warm blanket for my soul whenever I need it. It's on right now, as I write this.

My memory isn't that good, but luckily I unearthed a livejournal (livejournal!) diary entry about the event I made the next day.

August 16, 2005. I went right after school. I went to a very conservative Anglican secondary school, too. I tried not to get caught in the bathroom, as I coloured my nails black with permanent marker (I know, don't laugh) and changed into my standard metalhead baby outfit - Slipknot band shirt, black cargo shorts, and my pride and joy: steel-toe boots I somehow managed to cajole my parents into letting me own.

I caught the bus to the open-air war memorial park where the gig was going to be. I got there at 4pm, 4 hours early. A couple other maggots were already hanging around. I found myself surrounded by tombstones, and I read them all. It was the middle of the Hungry Ghost Festival, too - a very fitting time for Slipknot to pay a visit to this godforsaken hellhole of a small town I lived in. (Especially given the paranormal circumstances surrounding the making of Vol. 3.)

While I wandered around the venue (no security or sound guys were around at all), I spotted two white vans pull up to the stage, in the middle of a clearing. It was them! I spotted Joey and missed him by a hair's breadth. I was quickly ushered behind the stone archway entrance by security then.

(Funnily enough, while walking around, I got mistaken for Joey more than once. I am the same height as him, had the same long black hair, same pale skin, and was wearing almost exactly what he had been. One person claimed from behind, I was a dead ringer, apart from when I turned around, and they realised I was Chinese.)

It was soundcheck time. A sound guy testing the mics would say random things, like "testing one two three two one.... fudge fudge, I like fudge...." The band even did Purity, so us earlybirds were given a rare treat, and we screamed along from the entrance, and drummed our fists on the sides of nearby porta-potties. I hope no one was in there at the time. Whenever we got a glance of any of them, we'd scream and cheer. Finally they left again, but were soon to return.

This was the first time I'd been a part of the metal community. I was barely allowed internet in those days. But here, random strangers were friendly, striking up conversations like they'd been friends for years. Two big guys, called Trevor and Ted, looked out for me the entire gig after, keeping other big dudes from crushing me too much (I'm 5'3, remember). Other people commented on me being so baby, because I was only 14, and said they would take care of me.

When we were finally let in, right after the usher cut the rope, I ran in, screamed "WOOOHOOO!" along with a few friends I'd made. I only briefly stopped to receive this RoadRunner Records compilation CD from a roadie, then resumed running like a madman screaming and dashing into the VIP cage.

I was right up against the barricade - the first time I would ever be at a gig. People from assorted magazines and press took photos of us, and I think I got my photo taken about 10 times at least.

(This is how I got in trouble with my parents the next day. My photo had ended up in a local paper - you can see examples of that here. They had no idea what I'd been to see the night before, and were horrified when they saw what Slipknot looked like.)

We saw Sid filming us from the stage with a camcorder and screamed at him. We saw Jim and screamed at him too, and he flashed the victory sign back at us. I remember Metallica playing at the time, another one of my favourite bands.

The concert was a brutal religious experience I will never forget. People with their arms outstretched, crying and screaming out loud, moving like the devil possessed them.

The new friends around me made sure I was alright after every song! There were huge guys fainting behind us who had to get carried out, but I endured, a tiny 14 year old child. We got a family speech as per tradition, of course. "Are you guys out there all looking out for each other? We're all one big family, and we gotta look out for each other." What Corey said held true - strangers hugged, shook hands, talked, and made friends. I was heartened by how close-knit the maggot community was. It really did feel like a family, and it's felt like that ever since.

Of course, I did my first Jump The Fuck Up. It is possibly the most euphoria I've ever experienced all at one go. (Later, in 2020, I was extremely disappointed that I didn't get to do it again in London.)

They did the death masks for Vermilion, and I remember Chris helping Sid fix his mask and shirt when they'd changed back. Sid hung out near Clown's drums for most of the time too, and hugged him from behind and just latched on at one point. It was pretty adorable.

Fun fact: The version of Eyeless you hear on the 9.0 Live album is from Singapore, as is Eeyore. There are very few photos and videos from the crowd of this gig, because in 2005, very few people had camera phones. The crowd at the Slipknot gig in 2020 was a sea of arms with phones, filming the gig rather than experiencing it. Yes, I'm going to be that cranky old geezer who complains about the good old days.

Joey as usual, was fucking amazing and never failed. However, due to the fact that I was right up front, only his tiny head was visible behind his vast drum set, I couldn't see him the entire gig.

Amazingly, the government told Slipknot they were not allowed to do obscene gestures, curse, vomit (possibly due to the decomposing crow pre-show ritual), simulate humping on objects, throw faeces, or jump off stage (looking at you, Sid). I don't think our totalitarian government knew who they were dealing with, because watch what happens next.

Near the end of the gig, Corey tells the crowd “your government has given us a laundry list of things we aren’t allowed to do, your government has told us we are not allowed to swear��. Crowd goes “BOOOOOOOOO” and Corey goes “BUT WE DON’T GIVE A FUCK!!” And they launch into Surfacing, the last song. Everyone riots. Best night of my life.

You can find the setlist from that gig here. It had everything I wanted and more.

This story later got immortalised when Kerrang asked maggots for gig stories, for an article which came out in 2020. I had forgotten entirely, until people began messaging me to tell me, and one friend sent me a scan of it!

On the way out, I managed to get a shirt. I remember calling my best friend at the time, and got everyone at the merch booth to go "IF YOU'RE 555 THEN I'M 666" for her. This shirt has since been lost to the landfill, because my Christian mother took it upon herself to dispose of it the first opportunity she got. Needless to say, our relationship is not very good.

After that, I even managed to get that Roadrunner compilation album they were giving out signed. The band was staying at the Carlton. Unfortunately, Joey wasn't there, neither was Clown, and Mick was swarmed by guitar nerds so, 6/9 it is. It is a great regret of mine that I'll never have anything signed by him, nor will I ever get to see him perform ever again.

The next day, I went to school, my head swimming. Yes, I went to see Slipknot ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. I was a giant bruise, from my ribs and my chest, to my hips and knees, from being slammed into the barricade like a screen door in a hurricane. Most of all, my sore, headbanged-out neck could barely hold my head up. Classmates thought I had been in a fight. I was torn between battle-scarred exhaustion and hyperactive ranting about the most amazing gig of my short life (it still is, to this day). When teachers spoke to me, I wanted to reply, "Fuck trigonometry! I've just seen SLIPKNOT. Do you not understand that my world is different? Do you not understand that *I* am now different?"

My country was a small, conservative town that Slipknot had graced with their unholy presence. Corey Taylor once said that where he grew up in Iowa had a way of making a 16 year old boy feel like a 36 year old man (or something to that effect). I felt that in my weary bones as a teenager, being from a place just like that. Years later, Watain would run into worse trouble, and wouldn't even be allowed to perform. The Christian stranglehold is stronger than ever. It was a good thing that back then Slipknot had the element of surprise, striking serpent-fast and choking this society by the neck for a too-brief time, before they departed.

After that, my desire to play the drums only grew like a weed. Joey Jordison had, has, and will always inspire me as a drummer, and seeing the beast live (or what little I could spy behind the massive riser) had only spurred me on. I had always been a noisemaker, be it driving my parents mad with chopsticks on pots and pans, or driving my teachers mad with pencils on my desk. But of course, my parents wouldn't have any of it. I'd have to wait a good 14 more years before I'd be able to afford lessons and later, a kit of my own. Better late than never, right?

There will never be enough words to describe the impact Joey has had on my life. And it isn't just Slipknot, either. I could write another essay on his time with the Murderdolls and its influence on my own gender-non-conforming ways. Suffice to say, my wardrobe doesn't look too dissimilar to his during the early Dead in Hollywood days.

I told my boss I could not come into work today. I was grieving. I said that my music teacher died, as I didn't think she'd understand the magnitude of my loss. In a way, it's true. And I am not the only one Joey has nudged on the path to being a musician, that much is certain. To the rest of us, I wish strength and love for you in this difficult time. The best way to honour Joey, who truly loved music, both the creation and appreciation of it, is to pass that gift on. Teach it to someone. He is the reason I picked up the sticks in the first place, and one day, they'll be handed on, the heavy metal baton for the next generation.

And finally: remember that the ones we have lost are never truly gone.

Vinnie

P.S. See if you can spot me in the crowd photos in this post!

#Joey Jordison #Slipknot #Murderdolls

[maatryoshkaa]

young god | chapter 11

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

word count: 5.3k

warnings: ryu says: be extremely careful with this one. extremely triggering; extreme descriptions of violence, domestic abuse, sexual abuse of a minor, child abuse, foul language, traumatic/suggestive descriptions

description: Han Jisung finally recounts the dark events of his past, revealing just what made him into the monster he is today. the world as you knew it has flipped on its head in the span of one night, and time is running out for you to decide who you’ll stand by.

watch the trailer here!

11| young god.

“Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop,

And when the wind blows, the cradle will rock.”

Mama’s singing voice was soft in Jisung’s ears, her gentle fingers smoothing out the locks of his hair. He was curled up into her side, his tiny fists, which had been clutching stubbornly at her nightgown, finally loosening as his heavy eyelids drooped. Jisung couldn’t even remember what nightmare he had been having before he had cried out involuntarily and woken his mother, the warm embrace that followed immediately soothing the tightness in his chest and drying the tears on his cheeks.

Mama was always so warm. Mama was home, and Mama was safe.

This was the earliest memory Jisung could remember — every time something triggered all the flashbacks, the nightmares, he would always find himself back here — in this memory, in Mama’s arms, everything growing less and less clear every time. It was like wading through muddy waters, a thickening shroud of fog, as if his memories had become a frayed photograph — blurred at the corners and fading out of focus. 

Eventually, he had stopped trying to remember altogether, and the lullaby became nothing more than white noise ringing in the back of his mind.

━━━━━━━━

“Well, aren’t you going to open it?”

The box was wrapped in gold paper, complete with a red bow and ribbon. Covered in little Santa Clauses and Christmas tree patterns, it was small, but weighted enough to make Jisung’s arms slightly sore from holding it. Father would have called him weak had he said anything, so Jisung bit his lip and sucked it up.

“Man up, boy,” he would bark, delivering a slap to the side of Jisung’s head that was hard enough to make his eyes water. “Don’t tell me I raised a little girl?”

Mama would tell him not to mind his words.

Father was watching him now, leaned back on the couch. Maybe there was a glint of impatience in his eyes, but Jisung didn’t notice it as he slowly undid the bow, fingers barely touching the paper for fear of ripping it as he unwrapped it. He never got gifts on his birthday — in fact, Father didn’t even seem to remember the date at all, and Mama never had the money to buy him anything. Christmas, though, was easier to remember.

The fluttering paper fell away to reveal a black box, and when Jisung lifted the lid it something shiny — metal? — caught his eye. 

“Cost me a damn fortune. Old geezer down at Young Wings gave me a load o’ shit...”

Mama glanced over at his father, a hand hovering above his arm before withdrawing it timidly. Jisung’s attention was still fixed on the present — it was a camcorder, and brand new; the polished silver metal winked at him, and Jisung pulled it out with wide eyes. He flipped open the screen, fingers fumbling with the power button. The red recording light blinked at him like a rabbit’s eye. Grinning, Jisung held it up to his parents, smile not faltering despite Father’s disinterested eyes and Mama’s tense features.

Mama smiled into the lens. “Merry Christmas, ‘sungie.” Jisung turned away, too fascinated with the present to notice how the smile never quite reached her eyes. 

They didn’t celebrate any more Christmases after that.

━━━━━━━━

“February 22nd, 2005.” Jisung cocked his head, squinting at the viewfinder as it came into focus. “Yes! That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” His tongue ran over the gap where one front tooth used to be — he’d lost his first tooth a couple days ago, but he could swear the strange, metallic taste of blood was still in his mouth. He scrunched up his face. Blood didn’t taste good; he decided he wanted as little to do with it as possible.

Jisung was sitting cross-legged on his bedroom floor, the dying rays of the sun filtering through the window and spilling onto his hair. He had been filming video logs since Christmas — dramatically narrating battles between his old teddy bear and action figurines, or pretending he was a celebrity showing guests around the house. On some days, he would prop up the camcorder and hum a radio tune stuck in his head until he fell asleep. After all, Mama said he was too little to play outside with the other kids, and Father certainly didn’t play with him.

“Darn,” Jisung mumbled as the camcorder screen went blurry again. “Why do you keep doin’ this?” He got to his feet, pacing around his room while pointing the camcorder at random items. When it still didn’t focus, he opened his bedroom door and wandered into the hallway. His father was home — Jisung hadn’t seen him all day, but he had heard sounds coming from his parents’ bedroom — and surely, Father would know what to do, right?

“Father?” Jisung called, his voice coming out more timid than he’d intended. “Um, I—I know you don’t like to be bothered, but my camcorder isn’t--isn’t working. U-um...could you, m-maybe—”

Jisung’s stutters were cut off by a loud, strange gasp that made him freeze at the door. It sounded as though someone was in pain, but not quite. The door was shut, but when he listened closely he could hear...heavy breathing...heavy breathing, and a woman’s voice. 

“Mama?” His voice was barely above a whisper as one hand scrabbled for the doorknob, twisting it open. Inside, it was dark — but his camcorder was zoomed in, and Jisung watched as it finally focused on two figures on the bed. One, his father.

And two, a woman who was definitely not his mother.

Jisung’s gaze darted wildly. Clothes were strewn all over the floor — a red cashmere coat, his father’s dress shirt. His wide, confused eyes flickered up again, adjusting to the darkness. Father wasn’t hurting the woman — no, he was kissing her; she was on top of him, touching him, and he was letting her, and Mama was nowhere to be seen, and — and — 

His camcorder clattered to the floor and Jisung felt his heart stop, both heads on the bed snapping in his direction.

“Baby, we have a little visitor.” The woman spoke first, the cool calmness in her voice turning Jisung’s skin to ice.

“Get out.” His father had locked eyes with him, and when Jisung’s feet stayed frozen in place, his father pushed the woman off and strode towards him. “GET OUT!”

Something in Jisung clicked and he unfroze, fingers slippery with cold sweat as they grabbed at the fallen camcorder and he dropped to his knees. His father was standing in the doorway now, Jisung scrambling to push himself away — back into the hallway, back into the light.

“If you ever speak a word of this to your mother, boy,” his father’s voice was a low rumble above his head, like thunder before a tempest. “I’ll ram that camera right into your skull.” His finger came to rest on Jisung’s forehead before pushing, hard, and Jisung fell backwards, watching his father’s dark face disappear behind the closed door. His head hit the floorboards, hard, but he crawled to his feet, breaking into a run back into his bedroom and slamming the door shut.

Jisung glanced down at the camcorder, a pounding headache beginning to ebb and flow between his ears. The red recording light was still blinking with the comical innocence of a child’s eye — as if forever oblivious to the things it had seen. He slid to the floor, feeling like he was about to throw up, and punched the button to stop the recording.

━━━━━━━━

“June 3rd, 2006.” The ice cream truck rushed past him, and Jisung lightly whistled its tune as it disappeared around the corner. “This is my neighbourhood! Here’s the basketball court—” He pointed the camcorder through a chain-link fence, where a couple of older boys were in the middle of a game. “There’s Levanter Park—” — a children’s playground surrounded by tall lavender flowers — “And in the distance, that’s Miroh Heights.” He shifted the camcorder upwards to film the tall buildings looming in the distance, behind the suburbs. “And we’re back to my house!”

Ever since Mama had started working more shifts, Jisung had been able to sneak out more without anyone noticing. When Father got home, Mama would have to leave, and vice versa. 

Jisung had tried his best to forget the woman in Father’s bed — after all, he hadn’t seen her since, having begun avoiding his parents’ bedroom altogether. Sometimes, he wondered if it had happened at all. It was all so strange. It must have been a nightmare.

He swung open the front door, reaching down to unlace his sneakers — and froze. On the doormat sat a pair of red heels.

Did...Mama own red heels? 

He ran into the kitchen, a familiar nauseous feeling settling in his gut. There, sitting on top of the kitchen counter, was the woman from months before. She was wearing the same cashmere coat despite the summer weather, loosely draped over her frame so her bare shoulders were exposed. 

Jisung’s breath caught in his throat. Somehow, he willed his feet to move, every fibre of his being screaming for him to run, to run into his room, to run out the door, to run anywhere that wasn’t here. But instead, he lifted his camcorder, shaking as he tried to focus on her face. This was real. He needed something to show someone that this was real. Sensing the movement, the woman turned, eyes widening in surprise before a dark smirk curled across her blood red lips.

“Well, well. Look who we have here, hm? Filming something?”

“I-I won’t tell Mama,” Jisung blurted, and the woman’s face darkened. “P-please don’t tell F-Father—”

“Oh, he’s not home, pet,” she chuckled, and stood up. Jisung felt as if his feet had rooted in place, throat painfully dry as she slowly walked up to him. “It’s just you and me.” 

There was a red Zippo lighter in one hand, and the other fished in her pockets as if looking for cigarettes. She lit it with a crackle that made him jump, and ran a long finger down the side of his cheek before glancing down at the camcorder in disdain. “Naughty, naughty. You look just like your daddy, though. Same pretty-boy eyes.”

She held his chin between two of her long, red nails and Jisung shrank away from the touch, the sound of his ragged breathing filling the air as his eyes brimmed with tears. “Not quite a man yet, though, are we?” The woman chuckled, her breath reeking of cigarette smoke and liquor. With a smirk that made Jisung’s gut flip, she shrugged the red coat off her shoulders, the heavy fabric hitting the kitchen floor. 

She was wearing nothing but lace lingerie underneath, her catlike gaze flickering back to Jisung. “Say, mama’s boy, want me to teach you how to be like daddy?” Jisung was frozen, pupils quivering as his eyes darted back and forth. “Just give me your little camera, hm? You can touch me, too. I’ll make you feel real good.” Her hands were touching him, they were grazing his shoulders and chest and roaming lower, and lower, and — 

Jisung shook his head frantically, hands shooting out to push her away — but a red-taloned hand caught his arm and halted his feeble attempts. The woman scowled, and before Jisung knew it his arm was burning  — she was pressing the lit cigarette into his forearm to snuff the flame. With a choked gasp he squirmed in pain but she wouldn’t let go, red nails digging into his forearm like a snake’s fangs as his nostrils filled with the smell of her perfume and his own burning flesh. His fingers were trembling violently around the camcorder, clutching it close to his chest for dear life.

She pressed harder, and a scream of agony ripped through his throat before he could stop it, making the woman loosen her grip in surprise. Seizing his chance, Jisung yanked his arm away before a voice thundering through the house made him halt in his tracks.

“What the fuck is that?”

So his father was home. 

The moment Jisung’s eyes shot up to meet the woman’s, it all made sense. She was leaning back on the kitchen table, red lips spread wide in a Cheshire Cat’s taunting smile. She was toying with him — she knew that the moment his father came down, wrenching the camcorder from Jisung’s hands would be child’s play.

Snapping out of his horrified state, Jisung finally willed his legs to move and he sprinted out of the front door. The woman’s high-pitched laughter was ringing in his ears even as he made it to the sidewalk and ran out of his neighbourhood, as far away as his legs could possibly carry him. The sky had darkened, the red hues of the sunset making him shiver involuntarily. When Jisung finally collapsed, it was in a field of lavender flowers on the outskirts of town.

He threw his head back towards the sky, and let the sobs rack his body until he lost consciousness.

━━━━━━━━

“December 31st, 2009.”

His own voice sounded foreign to his ears, barely above a hoarse whisper. His house was always so quiet — tip-toes and whispers and furtive glances, for as long as Jisung could remember, as if one wrong move would set off a bomb.

What Jisung would give for quiet in moments like right now.

He could hear shouting and banging on the other side of the house, shaking the walls and making him jolt with every sound. The moment it had begun he’d froze, bare legs hanging off the side of his bed before — as if by reflex — snatching the silver camcorder off of his dresser. He hadn’t picked it up in months — no, years — hadn’t been able to touch it since without feeling nauseous. The moment his skin brushed the cold metal, the memories would shoot through his head like electricity. The grits of dust it had collected bit into his palm now, his own erratic breathing filling the room.

“You fucking whore — you want to leave me? That it? Do I need to remind you that I’m the reason you’re still alive?” 

Father. Father’s voice always carried no matter how far away he was. Jisung heard pounding on the floorboards, the sound of someone running — no, crawling; his mother’s fingernails were scrabbling at the base of the stairs. There was a crash, and the struggling stopped momentarily.

“N-n-no, pl-please—” choked sobs were closing up his mother’s throat; Jisung could hear the thick tears in her voice through the paperlike walls. “You can h-hit me, y-you can — I won’t mention your--your other woman, just--God, not in front of Jisung.”

Jisung heard his father wheeze an incredulous laugh. “Jisung,” he spat. “You should’ve gotten rid of him when I told you to, eh? I’m telling you, Ji-Eun—” his mother’s name sounded foul in his father’s mouth — “I never wanted any of this.” There was a blow, and a cry of pain. “But you just wouldn’t get rid of the baby, huh? You just had to fuck everything up, and you still bitch about how hard your life is every fucking day.”

“N-not Jisung,” his mother gasped desperately, “Chungho, he’s your son—”

“THAT BOY IS NOT MY SON!” His father’s sudden roar made Jisung leap to his feet, eyes darting around his room frantically. “I never wanted a son, that boy is a mistake you made and kept.” There were footsteps coming up the stairs now, getting louder and louder — and with a jolt of horror, Jisung realised that his father was dragging his mother towards his room.

Before Jisung knew it, there was a deafening bang on his door that nearly sent him toppling to the floor, as if a body had been slammed hard on the other side. The fighting had never happened so close before — it was always, always on the other side of the house, always downstairs, as if Mama had wanted him as far away from it as possible.

Mama always told him to stay far, far away from the danger, from Father — but it had never been this bad. Jisung would always stay in his room and pray for it to end — pretending as if the shouting, the banging, the screaming was all just static from the TV he could tune out if he tried hard enough. But he knew it had been getting worse as the years passed, Father’s drunken rages growing more and more violent; Mama’s face growing sickly pale and paler still.

The sound of his bedroom door cracking at the hinges snapped Jisung back to reality. Shaking, his eyes shot to the window, under his bed, then to his closet doors. Feeling as though his feet were dragging through wet cement, he felt his legs propel him towards the closet, not even managing to shut the door properly before his bedroom door came crashing down in an explosion of splinters and plaster.

Father was crushing Mother’s weak frame into the ground, both their faces scratched from splinters of wood. Jisung’s body was pressed against the back of the closet — he was long past the age where he could hide away from the fighting in the closet. He was taller than he was years ago, his limbs having grown awkwardly lanky and so he barely fit anymore. The camcorder shook violently between his fingers as he aimed it through the tiny crack in the closet, the small crack of light revealing a fragment of the hellish scene.

Father’s huge hands were wrapped around his mother’s throat and every fibre of Jisung’s being was on fire, every inch of his body screaming for him to open the door, to save her, to stop him. His mother’s voice echoed in his ears, telling him to stay away from the danger, to run, to stay away — but Father was killing her, he was killing her—

He lowered the camcorder, trembling fingers ready to push the door open — and froze. At that moment, just outside the closet, his mother tilted her head upwards. Her eyes met his, wide and bloodshot with fear, and Jisung felt his heart stop. Mama, I’m coming, he wanted to scream, Mama, Mama, I’ll save you— 

Face contorted with pain, swollen eyes locked on his, she shook her head ever so slightly. Then Father’s fist came down with a sickening crack, and her eyes rolled backwards into her skull.

The silence that followed seemed to swallow Jisung whole. 

This couldn’t be. This wasn’t happening. Mama wasn’t — Mama couldn’t be. But her whole body had fallen limp like a rag doll, and the house felt infinitely emptier, and at that moment Jisung just knew what horrible thing had just happened.

Father’s erratic breathing on the other side of the door brought him back, if only momentarily. “Shit,” the man muttered. There was so, so much blood pooling from beneath Mama’s body, slowly leaking a trail towards Jisung’s hiding place. “Bitch fucking--fucking asked for it. Had it coming…” 

Little broken sobs were beginning to bubble in Jisung’s throat as the horror sank in, pathetic hiccups growing louder the harder he tried to shove them down. His vision was growing hazy. His head was throbbing. And when his father wiped his bloodstained hands on his dead mother’s body with the nonchalance of wiping on a rag, something in Jisung’s chest snapped.

Jisung tore through the closet doors, the hoarse sobs licking like flames in his throat giving way to a roar of anguish. His eyes were burning with tears, gaze tinged with crimson red, ears ringing as his face contorted into something animalistic, something he had never felt before, something that wasn’t him. Everything was spinning; the floor was collapsing beneath his feet and threatening to swallow him whole. His hand wrapped around a long fragment of broken wood, and, as if it was an anchor to the last bits of sanity he had left, Jisung let out a bloodcurdling wail and plunged it deep into his father’s neck.

The man howled in pain, wheeling his large body around, but Jisung had already sprinted through the splintered doorframe and tumbled down the stairs. There was dark, slippery liquid all over the floors that reeked of blood and alcohol, shattered glass from bottles sinking into the soles of Jisung’s feet as he ran, his father’s heavy footsteps shaking the ground right behind him.

Jisung found himself in the kitchen, and the caricature before him turned his blood into ice. His mother had been cooking: a pot boiling over on the stove sending hot water splashing onto the tiles and onto his bare feet. The corners of his vision were blurred like a fish-eye lens, the camcorder dented but still locked between the fingers in one hand and slippery with blood. Little details jumped out at him. An open jug of cooking oil. An abandoned meat cleaver on the counter.

He whipped around just in time to see his father lunge for him, and Jisung’s mind went blank. He felt his fingers find the handle of the meat cleaver, his eyes bulging out of their sockets and trained on his father’s chest — and charged forward.

Jisung drove the knife straight into his father’s flesh with a terrible force he never knew he had, a neverending scream tearing through his vocal chords -- and brought it down again, and again, over and over and over, until several eternities later, when Jisung’s screams had finally given way to quieter, quivering sobs, his hands stiffened and he dropped the knife with a clang.

Suddenly, the house felt enormous, a seemingly endless silence flooding the suffocating air. Somehow, he got to his feet and limped out of the kitchen, stumbling back up the stairs.

“Mama,” he mumbled. His vision was blurry, eyes darting everywhere and refusing to focus. The camcorder was forgotten in his hand. “Mama?” Jisung dropped to his knees by her side, shaking hands touching her hands, her blood-drained face. 

Jisung didn’t know how long he stayed like that, by her side, silent wails racking his body as he felt the warmth slowly seep from her skin. Mama was always so warm, Mama was always safe, Mama was all he had—

And Mama was dead.

He wrapped his arms around her limp frame, trying to lift her from the growing pool of blood and down the stairs as best he could. His legs gave way before he had reached the bottom, toppling down the steps, and he landed hard on his side, dragging his mother’s body the entire way down. As Jisung’s hands scrabbled to push himself back up, crawling forwards into the kitchen, his mouth went dry as he caught a full glimpse what he had truly done. 

Red. That was the only way he could describe the remnants of his father, a giant crimson mass soaking the white kitchen tiles. Red blood on his own raw, bruised hands. And a familiar red lighter that had skidded from his father’s pocket and was now lying in the mixture of fluids on the floor tiles. The cooking oil was still on the countertop, and the moment Jisung’s eyes fell on it there was only one thought coursing through his mind.

In a single, final motion he lurched forward and brought down the jug cooking oil, feeling it sear his eyes as it splashed all over the floor, the walls, the body — before fishing the the red lighter out from the pool of blood and vodka. With the last of his strength he flicked it open, eyes mesmerized momentarily by the tiny flame — and let it fall to the ground.

Flames erupted from the floor, enclosing him in a circle of fire and heat. It was like a bomb detonating, the walls shaking violently as black smoke flooded his lungs. Choking, Jisung’s hands blindly snatched at the flames for his mother’s body, desperately trying to lift her out of the fire. The camcorder’s acrylic strap was sticking to his palm, melting into his skin as it grew unbearably hotter, flames licking at his skin as he limped forwards, no longer able to tell if he was dragging himself out of the fire or further inside of it.

Jisung’s palm smashed the screen door and it burst open. The blast of freezing winter air that hit him as he stumbled out of the building finally leached the energy from his bones, and Jisung collapsed, skinned knees buried deep into the fallen snow. The night sky was a hollow purple, the weak lights of stars drowning in the black billowing smoke from what once was his home. Cradling his mother’s lifeless body as the house burned to the ground behind him, weeping with the agony of an angel cast to the infernos of hell, Jisung could almost hear a familiar lullaby ringing in his ears.

Rock-a-bye, baby, on the treetop

When the wind blows, the cradle will rock

When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall

And down will come baby, cradle and all.

Somewhere, a firetruck sounded, followed by the growing wail of police sirens approaching — but Han Jisung was laughing like a madman.

━━━━━━━━

“They told me that there was nothing left from the fire but bones,” Jisung had told you. “The delivery lady — Old Mrs. Hwang, I think — was the one who called the police. I woke up right before the paramedics arrived and hid the camcorder’s memory chip in my pocket. It was like I already had the reflexes of--of a murderer.”

“What happened then?” You had asked him, your voice barely above a whisper. “Did they…”

“Find out? Never. How could a ten-year-old single-handedly burn down a building? More importantly, why would he want to? I must’ve looked traumatised enough, because the whole thing was written off as a gas explosion. Faulty pipes, something leaked, and the moment my father turned on the stove the house went up in flames.

“I was famous across the country,” Jisung’s voice was ironic, but his eyes were flat and hollow. As if he had already condemned himself long ago. “Everybody pitied and swooned over the poor, orphaned boy — but after a month had passed I became a ghost again, floating from orphanage to orphanage. Then I met Minho—” his eyes snapped up at you— “And after the kidnapping case, it was like everything had snapped again. I couldn’t run from what I had done — I could still see it, every single time I closed my eyes.

“I couldn’t save her. I should’ve died that day — no,” he had chuckled hollowly, “maybe, I never should have been born.”

The moon was three-quarters full, a pale teardrop outside your bedroom window. Your mind had been in limbo for hours now, shifting endlessly back and forth between what Jisung had said, what you had heard, and everything you had seen until now.

Jisung had finally fallen asleep beside you on the bed, his eyebrows slightly furrowed but his breathing otherwise even. You had made him stay the night, a request that surprised the both of you — Jisung, who had still been respecting the distance you had forcibly wedged between the two of you — but you couldn’t bear the thought of him having more nightmares. Especially not after tonight.

Funnily enough, you thought, you’d much rather have a wanted serial killer safely sleeping next to you than out roaming the streets doing heaven-knows-what. A voice in the back of your mind mentioned how you had never expected that your first time with a boy in your bed would be under circumstances that were...less-than-favourable, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it now.

It all made sense. It all fit together like a grotesque puzzle: the way Jisung reacted with the colour red, all his strange, uneasy symptoms, why all the victims were known to be abusers or mistresses, and oh, God — his family. Your mind flashed as you imagined him bringing the knife down on his abusive father, the scrap metal on his kidnapper — and the stone on the dead man from the Yellow Wood. It was like he had his own Mark of Cain — whoever hurt him would have the pain and wrath reenacted upon them thousandfold. 

Maybe it should have felt wrong, what you were feeling — you should have been repulsed, you should have turned him in on the spot, you should have written him off as a monster, a murderer — but you didn’t. No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him. You’d seen the moments his facade had cracked and revealed the raw, vulnerable, broken boy underneath; you could feel the regret and torment he was living with every day, eating away at him from the inside like a disease. And, most of all, you saw the flashes of the boy he might have been in his wide, sheepish smile and bright, mischievous eyes, in his gentle hands and soft voice. In the fleeting moments of happiness that had been robbed from him too young. And now, you realised that you were certain about one thing.

You were absolutely, hopelessly in love with Han Jisung.

Your eyes wandered to his sleeping face, studying the dark circles beneath his eyes, the stress ingrained in the lines of his features. You had seen the same shadows in Lee Minho’s expression — these boys who had grown up with worry and pain etched into their faces like scars.

Jisung shifted slightly, mumbling incoherently and changing sleeping positions. After hesitating for a moment, you gently took his wrist in your hand, gingerly studying his hands and ankles.

Sure enough, there were faint white lines where cable ties and rope had once burned into. Jisung’s shirt had hitched up slightly, revealing rosy skin dappled with numerous bruises and mapped with more miscellaneous scars that all told the same, horrible story.

Your eyes finally settled back onto Jisung’s face again, a knot of bittersweet emotions festering in your chest. Outlined in the silver moonlight, he looked ephemeral — like a young god with too much power thrust into his hands, cold and damaged and beautiful; capable of the most terrible things. 

You didn’t know what was going on inside his mind, and you had no idea how things would change when morning came. It felt like he was slipping from your grasp the harder you tried to hold on. Was this how Minho had felt? Out of control? If so, you were beginning to understand why the coroner had wanted to help Jisung in the first place, to mask the ugly truth. To protect his friend, the only brother he’d ever known.

“Trust me, y/n, I was in your position once, too. You’re just like how I was.”

Maybe you weren’t so different from Minho, after all. Because as you watched Jisung’s sleeping figure, felt his body warmth pressed up beside you as something in your chest swelled in both tenderness and pain — you knew you were more than willing to lie for him, too. If you could save Han Jisung’s life, if you could bring back the boy with the happy, angel-like smile from your very first date — no, if you could keep even a fragment of the light and peace left in his eyes, then that was what you had to do. You would hide everything until — until the case was closed.

And maybe, you thought as the moon burned into your drooping eyes, just maybe, everything will be okay.

#han jisung #stray kids #skz #stray kids series #bang chan #kim woojin #yang jeongin #lee know #lee minho #lee felix #seo changbin #kim seungmin #hwang hyunjin #stray kids boyfriend #stray kids yandere #stray kids au #stray kids angst #stray kids imagine #han jisung imagines #han jisung au #han jisung angst #han jisung yandere #han jisung boyfriend #serial killer!au #maatryoshkaa

[aion-rsa]

Val Kilmer Documentary Punctures the Actor’s Bad Boy Myth

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Leo Scott and Ting Poo’s new documentary feature, Val, is not a mortality play. It is a rehearsal for an upcoming act. During a tour of his one-man stage show, Citizen Twain, Val Kilmer was diagnosed with throat cancer. The actor underwent two tracheostomies, and now can only speak while covering a tube. The narration of the new film is thus done by his son Jack Kilmer, allowing the pair to share a non-verbal connection throughout the journey, and through time and expression itself. While there are flourishes of humor, the documentary is a serious study of an artist who has always struggled to be understood, told through the selective memory of Kilmer’s POV.

“I’ve wanted to tell a story about acting for a very long time,” Kilmer says toward the beginning of the documentary. “And now that it’s difficult to speak, I want to tell my story more than ever.” Kilmer is an artist, one who takes his vocation very seriously and introspectively. An actor’s voice is more than a tool, it is their primary source of communication. Non-verbal exchanges are important, but dialogue is the primary idea delivery system in staged and filmed works. Surgical procedures have split his throat, shredding the scope of his instrument. In the film, Kilmer is forced to project his story on the empty space between the notes.

Among Kilmer’s many defining roles, the one which appears to ring truest is his encapsulation of Jim Morrison, the poet and lead vocalist of the Doors in Oliver Stone’s 1991 biopic, The Doors. The young Kilmer is shown onstage in a small club, lost in the music, awaiting his cue to become one with the mic. Moments in Kilmer’s personal history, like how the actor was tagged with a “difficult” label, are consigned to rests. The most overt reference to Kilmer’s “bad boy” reputation comes from Robert Downey Jr., who smashes the notoriety to bits in a moment of impromptu dismissal.

There is no gossip here. There is no discussion of A-list-bad behavior. Kilmer sees it all as artistic license.  He was searching for honesty, he remembers. Choices like lying on top of a mattress filled with ice in order to feel a real pain during his last scene with Kurt Russell in Tombstone come across as perfectly valid. Kilmer is still bitter over spending four months learning to play guitar for Top Secret!, and his first note informs him the director thinks he looks funnier faking it. There is little evidence of unprofessionalism, only growing pains.

The bulk of Val comes from clips of 8mm home video footage Kilmer has been shooting most of his life. “I’ve kept everything, and it’s been sitting in boxes for years,” Kilmer informs us. The archive was intended to tell a story about “where you end and the acting begins.” We are gifted with moon shots of both Kevin Bacon and Sean Penn, which have nothing to do with the films Apollo 13 or The First.

Early self-directed screen tests provoke a series of what-ifs. A tortuous encapsulation of a Juilliard acting class is a lesson in what-nots. Val’s hand-held approach to The Island of Dr. Moreau is a highlight. The actor respectfully rocks his co-star and idol, Marlon Brando, on a hammock they both wish was strung to John Frankenheimer. Please turn off the camera, the film’s replacement director demands. But Kilmer only hits pause when it’s time to rehearse.

The behind-the-scenes camcorder footage from sets of Top Gun, Tombstone, and The Doors are treasure troves in themselves, and possibly underused. Most of the audience will be very interested in the candid youth and truth recorded over his career. Val uses the archival clips and unearthed b-roll to establish a chronology.

Many videos were made at home in Los Angeles with Kilmer’s younger brother Wesley, who had an epileptic seizure and drowned at age 15. His death casts a mournful pall following the news that Val was the youngest applicant ever accepted as a drama student at Juilliard. Kilmer calls his brother “an artistic genius,” and one of the most revealing things to come out of the documentary is how often Kilmer used this brother’s art to augment the backgrounds of the sets he is living through on film.

Seeing how Stone speaks about Kilmer now makes me wonder if Val would have been able to put in the same performances in his movies if he knew it at the time. In his audition tapes for Full Metal Jacket and Goodfellas, we see an actor who needs to be taken seriously. He flies 6,000 miles to hand deliver his tape to Stanley Kubrick in London.

While he makes no comment, footage reveals Kilmer’s favorite Batman was played by Adam West. “Every boy wants to be Batman,” we hear, and see the Caped Crusader in every era of Kilmer’s life. A short, animated film he and his brother made with what looks like crayon is a Batman spoof. He still glories in the moment he got deposited behind the classic TV series’ iconic wheels as a youngster visiting the lot. It appears Kilmer still can’t pass a grocery store Batmobile without feeding it quarters. He wears the classic blue Halloween ensemble expecting tricks and treats as a kid, and as a daddy with his kids.

Don’t expect to see Kilmer wearing his cinematic puffed rubber suit at home, and it’s not because he left it at the dry cleaners. Footage old and new, homemade or professionally recorded, presents the Batsuit as an albatross. Heavy rests the cowl. He has to be lifted from chairs, deposited on marks, and his only identifying feature on the set of Batman Forever is a chin and bottom lip. Anyone could have been behind the mask, and the human superhero envied the subhuman villains. Kilmer comes across as quite happy Jim Carrey and Tommy Lee Jones are able to create fully formed performance art in their portrayals. But he wanted to play with those toys.

“Batman Forever,” Kilmer laments, “whatever boyish excitement I had going in was crushed by the reality of the Batsuit. I realized it was just my job to show up and stand where they told me.” As the captured past footage is juxtaposed with modern sequences, we get an unfiltered glimpse of how little this has changed. The sequence of Kilmer at the Comic-Con autograph booth is wrenching. He initially didn’t want to take the part of Iceman in Top Gun because he felt it glorified the military. So many fans ask him to sign “You can be my wingman” on their souvenirs. It turns his stomach. He throws up in a garbage can and wheeled through hallways with a blanket over his head. Trouper that he is, he returns to the booth to finish out the signatures.

Kilmer blurred himself into the role of Mark Twain. There is a beautiful sequence where the actor walks through town to the beach, in full stage makeup, dressed in the signature white suit and long mustache of his character. It is extremely telling when Kilmer tells the camera it’s hard enough writing a good screenplay, much less a great one, which itself doesn’t even match what he feels he needs to bring to a script of a film version of Citizen Twain. Kilmer sold his ranch in New Mexico to finance the project. The documentary only captures some of the frustrations.

Most of the anecdotes are guarded, and all the admissions are part of a subjective narrative. Kilmer’s arc has rough edges, these tales are too smooth, and leave little room for impressionistic interpretation. Kilmer met his former wife, Joanne Whalley, when she was starring in a West End play directed by Danny Boyle, but he didn’t approach her.

“She was brilliant, and I was in town making fluff,” Kilmer concedes. It’s all about the art, even appearances. The documentary hints that Kilmer’s dedication to character did the most damage to their relationship. Wearing the same pair of leather pants for nine months could almost be on the books as probable cause for divorce in Hollywood.

Similarly, Kilmer’s Christian Science upbringing is brought up, and dropped. There is a loving but ambiguous undertone to Kilmer’s relationship with his once-rich-and-powerful father, who put his son in debt after trying to become a southern California land tycoon. But a sequence on his Swedish mother which juxtaposes a car ride he took with her when he was a child with one of being driven to her funeral speaks volumes without words.

Val is about the next step. “What’s past is prologue” William Shakespeare wrote in The Tempest. Kilmer pondered the “too, too solid flesh” while rehearsing Hamlet, and the documentary opens after the actor faced his own mortality. Kilmer swears he feels better than he sounds and, while he finds little to regret in his memories, he expects less in the ones he has yet to create.

Val can be seen on Amazon Prime Video.

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[pattonsperfectfamily-asks]

Chapter 14- A Very Long Goodbye Chapter from Mod Iva

Masterpost

TW: past stalking (so much. so. much.), nonconsensual recording, crying, forcing someone to hit someone else, r slur, mention of almost forced contact, pushing someone into water, past kidnapping, murder, torture, flashback, breaking into someones house, brainwashing, electrocution

“98.2!” Patton cheers as he pulls the thermometer out of Damien’s mouth. “Now you’re all better!”

Damien sniffles, forcing his head down, his glare aimed passively at the floor. “I wouldn’t have gotten sick if you hadn’t been an idiot and put Virgil in the damn ice bath.”

“Don’t be rude to your father.” Logan scolds, watching the angry look in Patton’s eyes as he pulled Damien closer to him. “And we do not swear in this household.”

“Ohh what, so you’re fucking brainwashed as well?” Damien snaps. “You know, Virgil is one thing, but you’re a grown-ass adult. What’s your excuse?”

Logan froze, tears welling up in his eyes. “I-”

“Punish him,” Patton says curtly. “Do it. Damien, your father is going to punish you for talking back and swearing.”

“W-What?” Logan was shaking. “What would you want me t-to do?”

Patton mimes a harsh smack, his eyes cold. “Do it, Bunny. Or we could go into my room to cuddle if you don’t want to…”

Logan’s eyes widen as he faces Damien nervously.

“Really?” Damien snarks. “Maybe you deserve to be here with Patton, seeing how you like bending to his fucking will 24/7.”

“Glasses, now Logan,” Patton said firmly.

“Sush, we’re just cuddling. This could be much worse, couldn’t it Logie?”

“Get in the box Bunny.”

Alex didn’t take his eyes off him.

“Just shut up and go back to sleep,” Alex says forcefully.

“If you tell, well I won’t be able to go back up and give them food,” Patton says cheerfully. “They’d starve up there, and it’d be all your fault.”

“Husbands are supposed to be faithful, Lolo.”

“You won’t be taking this ring off.”

Logan makes a noise in the back of his throat, a mix of a scream and a sob, and slams his hand down on Damien’s face.

Damien drops to the floor and Patton moves over to Logan, wrapping his arm around Logan’s waist. Damien gingerly touches his cheek, looking up at Logan in shock, who hid his face in Patton’s shoulder and sobbed.

“Shh, it’s okay bunny. You’re okay…” Patton presses a kiss to the top of Logan’s forehead, moving to sit him down on the couch.

Roman watched as the sun slowly set.

Dinner had gone quietly, and Damien sat across from Roman on his bed, sitting silently as Roman peered out the window.

“I think Patton will be asleep soon.” Roman muses.

“I hate him.”

“We all hate him, Dami.”

“Not Patton, I loathe him. I hate Logan.”

Roman looked over at Damien in shock. “He didn’t mean to hurt you Dami, you know that.”

“Yes, he did.” Damien crossed his arms, staring at the door, a seething look in his eyes.

“Logan is just hurting,” Roman says quietly. “He’s doing what he thinks is best for his survival. And Damien, if you hadn’t noticed, it’s working. You shouldn’t have sworn at Patton.”

“But I-”

“No.” Roman cuts Damien off with a shake of his head. “You need to control your attitude around Patton. You know how he’s like, if you act like a happy kid, he won’t bother you. He’s not the problem here.”

“Jason’s only a problem for you,” Damien mutters.

“That’s not fair. That’s not fair, and you know it, Damien.” Roman says quietly. “Patton only bothers you because you argue with him, Jason hurts me no matter what I do. You could ignore Patton for the most part, you just chose not too.”

“Because I’m supposed to be in college right now!” Damien protests, “Which, by the way, I had to work for all summer because I missed most of high school because I was kidnapped by a sociopath!”

“We’ll escape,” Roman says quietly. “We did it before.”

“We got rescued. When we were in the state we were taken from, and in a house that Patton owned.” Damien argues. Roman hides his head in his hands.

“Let’s just go, they should be asleep by now.”

Damien begrudgingly grabs the flashlight they had taken, and carefully follows Roman out into the hallway.

“The closets the only place he could hide something…Besides the basement.” Roman shudders, quietly opening the door and beginning to pull boxes out.

Damien shines the light for him as he opens the first box and began to rifle through the contents.

Inside was a small photo album, which Roman grabs and sets aside. “Old receipts…But they’re from all over America…Some pins…A children’s book, maybe we could convince Patton to give that to Remus? Some old glass figures…barbies…”

Roman gasped, hurriedly grabbing a camcorder and holding it to his chest. “Hurry, help me put this stuff back.”

Damien and Roman quickly shove the box back into the closet and hurry back to Roman’s room, the photo album, and camcorder in their hands.

“So what exactly are we looking for?”

“Maybe one of the pictures will have an address or a map. Something to tell us more of where exactly we are.” Roman says hopefully.

“Sure.” Damien rolled his eyes, beginning to flip through the pages. “There’s just normal pictures of small Jason, and what I’m assuming is his family. This one has Jason and that priest that’s also named Jason…And here’s one with Patton, Amelia, Jason, the other Jason, and Alex. All of them together.”

Roman shuddered at the reminder of Alex, looking at the photo curiously.

The five kids, around twelve, sat together in a treehouse, their arms around each other’s waist. Patton, priest Jason, and Amelia all had big smiles on their faces, but Jason and Alex looked like they were plotting something. In the back, a smaller figure with long hair and a blurred face laid curled up.

“They look like they were in a club.” Roman hums. “Who’s the girl in the back…?”

Damien shrugs, turning on the camcorder and going to the back of the gallery, to the first ever video.

“Here she is! Little Miss Amelia, all done with her initiation!” A female voice from off-camera spoke, and Amelia giggled, clumsily curtsying.

“Doesn’t she look gorgeous!” Another female voice compliments. “You two are so lucky!”

“Amelia, say hello to the video.” A male voice prompts.

The young Amelia tugged at one of her braids. “Hello.”

“Do you know why we’re filming?” The first female asks. Amelia pauses, her face falling as she shook her head.

“We’re filming this to celebrate darling! One last little test, alright?”

“Okay, Daddy!” Amelia smiles once more, and the camera shakes as it’s set down on a table.

An older woman appears in the frame, her hair and eyes dark, wearing a fancy silver dress. “Go ahead and sit down Amelia.”

Amelia sits across from the mother, her legs kicking slightly as she smoothed out her pink dress.

“Amelia,” The man rummaged in a box and held out a photograph. “Do you know who this is?”

Amelia peered at the man and woman in the photo closely. “No.”

“Do you know any girls at your school named Sarah Jonas?” The mother prompts.

“No.” Amelia giggles.

“What’s your full name?” The woman offscreen asks.

“Amelia Marie Lebent.” Amelia says with a little nod of her head.

The mother and father beam and the video ends.

Roman stares down at the frozen screen in confusion, worry growing in the pit of his stomach. “This belonged to Amelia’s family…?”

“But why were they asking her what her name was?” Damien asks. “Was she in an accident?”

Roman looks at Damien, deciding not to build off of anything, and instead playing the next video.

“Look! It’s huge!” A young Patton struggles to hold up a fish to the camera, his fishing pole knocking off his bucket hat.

“Careful!” The offscreen voice of a young Alex snaps as Amelia grabs Patton’s hat and puts it back on his head.

The group of kids were on a boat in the middle of a lake, a town in the distance.

“Mummy said we had to come home soon.” Amelia pouts, looking seasick as she tried to read her book amongst the chaos on the boat.

“Look at my fish!” Patton appears in front of the camera again, holding up the same trout.

“You already showed us the damn fish, stupid.” A young Jason snaps.

“Isn’t it cool?!” Patton asks excitedly, showing it again to Jason.

“Patton, you have to put the fish in the cooler, remember buddy?” Priest Jason says gently, guiding Patton off-screen.

“Patton! Come'ere, lookit this!” Alex says excitedly. From behind the camera, Jason snickers.

“What?!” Patton practically trips over his own feet as he rushes to Alex’s side of the boat.

“Look, do you see that fish, it looks like a shark!”

“Really?!” Patton hurriedly bends over the side of the boat.

Alex quickly pushes Patton in, who falls with a big splash.

“Alex!” Amelia yells, snapping her book closed and jumping up. She and priest Jason hurry to the side of the boat where Patton was pushed, while Alex and Jason laugh.

“It’s not my fault his parents fried his brain and made him a r*tard!” Alex laughs as Patton surfaces.

“You’re so funny!” Patton laughs, looking panicked. “Can I come back on the boat now…I don’t wanna get bit by a shark…”

“There’s no shark.” Priest Jason reassures him as he, Amelia, and Alex pull Patton back onto the boat. “We’re on the lake. Sharks are in oceans.”

Patton shivers. “Can we go home now?” He asks, his voice small. His entire chest was shaking.

The video ended.

"He deserved it.“ Damien had laughed when Patton fell in, but Roman simply looked horrified at the video. "What?”

Roman’s mouth stayed open in shock as he played the next video.

A girl with brown hair was on the screen.

“She looks like the girl from the picture…” Roman notices.

“What’s your name?” The mother from the first video asks.

“…Olivia…” The girl can’t even manage to get out her last name as a button is pressed. She writhes around in front of the camera, sweat pouring down her face as her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

“Your name is Valerie, say it!” Amelia orders, marching over to the girl. “Say it! Your my sister Valerie!”

“That’s enough Amelia. Come back over here please.”

Amelia quickly complies as the girl tries to catch her breath.

“I…I want to go h-” She cuts off with another scream.

The video cut off, and they began again, now outside, where Patton and priest Jason peeked out from inside a large hole in the ground.

“Get out boys.” A man demands.

“But we’re playing Pop!” Priest Jason complains.

“This is a funeral! Out!” A woman says firmly. The two boys groan and pull themselves out.

“I still want a sister.” Amelia’s voice says from off-camera. Amelia’s dad appears in frame, holding Olivia’s body.

“We can try again next year darling, mummy can’t invest in another one right now.” Amelia’s voice says.

The man lays the girl down in the hole and begins shoveling the dirt back in as the camera moves to face a small seated crowd.

“That’s why I tell you, you go younger. My Alex never gave me any problems.” A woman holding a toddler in overalls says to Amelia’s mother.

The mother sips at her champagne in thought. “I don’t know, I think we might have only the one.”

“But I want a sister!” Amelia protests again.

“Daddy will get you a pony instead darling.” Amelia’s father promises.

“I already have a pony. I need a sister to play with.” Amelia pouts. “I’m the only girl except for baby Madeline.”

“Madeline won’t be a baby forever, and you have fun playing with your cousins.” The mother waves offhandedly, taking another sip of champagne.

The video ended.

“They…They tortured her…” Damien gasps. “Ohh my god she was Virgil’s age and they fucking killed her!”

“I think Alex said they did that to Patton too…I think they did that to all of them…” Roman switches to the next video, before gasping.

“Careful!” The camera shakes and then straightens out, zooming in on a thirteen-year-old Roman and Remus, playing together in the river.

“Sorry, dad,” Fourteen-year-old Patton says quietly, laughing when Remus shoved Roman under the water.

Roman spits water in his brother’s face in retaliation.

Roman switches to the next video, cutting off Patton’s voice.

“Look, Virgil, I borrowed this camcorder from my friend!” Twenty-four-year-old Patton says, pushing it closer so that Virgil’s face took up the entire screen.

The five-year-old giggled, gently pushing the camera back.

“Can you show me your drawing?” Patton asks.

Virgil carefully grabs the blue piece of construction paper, showing the camera. “Isa puppy!”

“It’s so good!” Patton praises, “You did such a good job Virgey!”

Virgil giggles, bouncing in place. “When Kai an mommy an daddy gonna get bac’?”

“Don’t be silly Virgey, your dad’s right here!” Patton says cheerfully.

Virgil giggles. “You na my daddy Pat-Pat! You my fwend!”

“Aww!” Patton shifts the camera, holding it away as he quickly came into view, kissing Virgil over and over on the head, which made the boy giggle. “I love being your friend, baby!”

The video ended.

“I feel sick,” Damien says quietly. “That video…It’s creepy, I don’t want to watch anymore…”

“They’ve been watching us this whole time…Patton knew about Remus and me since we were thirteen, maybe sooner.” Roman hid his head in his hands. “Holy fuck…We have to get out of here.”

Damien stands, backing towards the door. “I’m going to bed…I…I can’t finish watching…”

He hurriedly leaves, and Roman skips a few of the videos of Patton babysitting Virgil, his heart sinking when he saw Damien on one.

“Just ignore the camera.” Patton encourages.

“I don’t think I can-”

“No you’ll be great! I have to document this!” Patton laughs. “C'mon Dami, you’re so talented.”

Damien looks up at Patton then nods, blowing out a slow breath of air as he placed his fingers over the piano keys.

The video plays silently as Damien plays a classical piece, Patton cheering loudly at the end. “You did so good kiddo! You could win the competition next week!”

“Competition?” Damien looks up, confused.

“That must have been a few days before the first kidnapping…” Roman says to himself.

A quiet creak sounds from the hallway and Roman covers his mouth, hoping whoever was in the hall wouldn’t be Jason, and wouldn’t open his door.

Footsteps pad down the outside, and suddenly stop.

Roman’s door swings open, and Logan stares in at him.

“Why are you still up?” Logan asks, suddenly noticing the camcorder, “Where did you get that?”

“Why are you still up?” Roman asks as Logan sits next to him on the bed. “And why are you upstairs?”

“I couldn’t sleep after what I did to Damien…” Logan looks down in shame, fighting back tears. “I came up to apologize…But I couldn’t do it…What are you doing with a camcorder?”

Roman looked miserable at the question, holding the camcorder out to Logan and switching to the next video.

“Is that me?”

Roman grabs it back and looks. Sure enough, you could see Logan from through a window next to a door leading into his old classroom.

Roman plays the video.

A few moments pass in silence as Patton zooms in on Logan, seemingly grading papers.

“We’ve known each other so long…” Patton says wistfully. “I…Today I’m gonna do it!” He hurriedly moves away from the door and heads down a hallway. “We’re the only one’s that teach on this side of the building…I’ll just run into him, and he can help me pick up my stuff!”

The video ended.

The next video played.

Patton zoomed in through a window, the camera shaky.

Logan, maybe seventeen years old, sat down at a table with his family, eating with one hand and reading a book with the other.

“Ohh my god.” Logan chokes back a sob.

The next video played.

Fifteen-year-old Logan laid fast asleep in his bed, and the camera stayed on him for a minute before Patton began walking around the room.

“He likes science, and the planets, and pluto!” Patton giggles quietly, gently touching Logan’s space poster. “His favorite food is Crofter’s jam, and we’re going to have it every day on toast for breakfast!”

Patton returns to Logan’s bed and gently kisses him on the forehead. “I promise Bunny. We’re gonna have the most perfect little house, and kids and my brother Roman is gonna live with us!”

Logan stifled a sob, silent tears rolling down his face. “Ohh gods and goddesses��He…He ran into me on purpose…He snuck into my bedroom…Roman, he could have done anything when I was asleep, what if he-!”

Roman wrapped his arms around Logan, doing his best to comfort him. “We have to get out of here. I…I always just thought I was in the wrong place at the wrong time…Fuck…I never should have let him sit with me at the damn cafe!”

Logan sniffed, pressing the button to start the next recording.

Logan, only seven, sat on the swings at the park, reading a book and lazily kicking his feet.

“Are you sure Patton?” Patton’s mother asks, looking down at Patton. Patton smiles up at the camera.

“Yeah! I really really love him, Mama!” The boy giggled, and Jason shoved him lightly.

“Patton’s got a cr-ush, Patton’s got a cr-ush!” Amelia sand teasily. Alex said nothing, simply stared ahead at Logan deviously.

Patton went red. “Stop it!” He whined. “Mama, please can he be my husband when I’m big?”

“Of course love, whatever you want. Only the best for you.” She says. Patton beams.

“We’re gonna get married and live happily ever after!” Patton sighs happily.

“Only if you do what I say love, adults are tricky.” The mother reminds him. “You must go slow.”

“But he’s gonna love me forever and ever?” Patton asks innocently.

“Of course.” His mother repeats.

The video ended.

“I-” Logan choked up, staring at the ending screen. “At least he wasn’t in my room, right?”

Roman smiles sadly. “Yeah. I don’t think he did anything. I think that was the only time he went in your house.”

Roman shuts the camcorder off before Logan can look through the rest of the obsessive stalking videos, hiding it under his bed and turning to Logan.

“Why don’t we make a plan, okay Logan?” Roman says gently. “We’ll do that, but first you have to be very brave and go sleep with Patton, okay?”

“Okay…” Logan nods.

Roman stares up at him sadly as Logan stood. “Goodnight, Logan.”

“Goodnight…” Logan whispers. “R-Roman…Can you do something for me?”

“Of course.” Roman nods. “Anything, what?”

Logan hurriedly sat down and stared Roman in the eyes for a few seconds, pulling Roman into a tight hug, Logan chokes out a “Goodnight Remus” before crying more and hurrying downstairs.

Words: 3150

Taglist

@jasondeanstwin

@kai-the-person

@the-insanelycoolmylesoliver

@no-no-no-no-6

@samuel-the-gay

@ginnyfox617

@imliterallyvirgilandlogan

@supbitchss

@bat-boye

@avocados26

@anxietea-and-insanitea

@yay-gay-ships

@the-office-cat

@fluffyspirits--butclueless

@shadowboi678

@youthquake-in-the-making

@yerkesdodsoncurve

@trisyllabic-rhymes

@shade-romeo

@itsawitchesworld

@catathyst

@that-one-braincell

@ssuperfruitxvirgil

@robynyouofsanderssidescontent

@theoddkidnextdoor

#past stalking #stalking #unsympathetic Patton sanders #r slur #r slur use #crying #implied past kidnapping #murder #torture #flashback #brainwashing #electrocution

[onisiondrama]

(Note: I’m not repeating stories he’s told before and just putting them in parenthesis. I have a lot more videos to go until I’m caught up so that would save me a lot of time. If he gives details I never heard from him before, I will type those.)

“The New Onision Conspiracy” prev. “Hitting Your Loved Ones Is Never Ok” Speaks, September 29?, 2020 (deleted)

- Says he got 6,000 - 7,000 new followers on Twitch during one stream. Allegedly, it’s from a streamer who was trying to say Onision beats his s/o. He thought it was about Shiloh (called the cops on Shiloh stories). - He found out over stream it was actually about a record or report from November 16, 2019 where someone said it sounded like there was domestic violence in his home. He says people don’t factor in that the police are often called on streamers and Youtubers. Internet people like to waste the money of tax payers and get Youtubers and streamers swatted or call animal control all the time. - Says he was told by a police officer someone called. At the time he thought it was about his pets because it happened so often. People from the internet called and would say they’re a neighbor to get the cops to come. - Anti-o is one of the most criminal and toxic community out there because they waste tax payer money and waste the time of the police, animal control, and CPS. - Someone tried to get him swatted, but it didn’t work. They released the audio. He never listened to it, but he was told it was really bad and embarrassing for the person who called. The person who picked up the call was intelligent and saw through that person right away. Emergency receptionists deal with a lot of imbeciles, like people asking for directions to Pizza Hut. - The pizza companies don’t like anti-o’s because they were pranked so many times. He asked them to put down his number and call him to confirm if he actually ordered a pizza because people would order meat lovers pizzas to his home. They tried to pointlessly kill animals and waste the pizza company’s time and money. The prank never worked because he would never take the pizza. - Lying is the go-to for people who want to be evil online. Sarah was reported as murdered and she answered the door. Kai was reported missing and Kai answered the door. - (He was reported to animal control for farting / muffin) - People create villainous legends about him online. If you watch his Twitch you’ll know he’s boring. He’s only entertaining in videos because he’s one of the best villainous actors out there. A director tried to put him in a loving role. The director asked him why he was so awkward and weird when he was brilliant in the other roles he gave him. He says it’s because he’ll the villain. He’s Loki, not Thor. He’s the guy that plays American Psycho, not Romeo from Romeo and Juliet. - Says people created a fictional universe where he’s a super manipulative intellectual who’s playing everyone. It’s an elaborate, nonsensical concept of him. You’d think the people who he kicked out of his life would say that’s ridiculous but they were kicked out for being liars. He’s actually quite virtuous. He has morals, standards, an overwhelming respect for the truth and justice. - He can be cold like L. He’d fit in the role of L. He hates playing Light Yagami. He always depicts L (I think he meant to say Light) as an idiot in his Death Note sketches because his motivations are stupid, he’s a criminal. He acts like a hero yet he’s killing people for disagreeing with him. - Says Thanos was an idiot too. [goes into detail about Thanos’ motivations] He should have doubled the size of the planets so he doesn’t have to kill everyone. He murdered countless individuals. - People tried to use a Leafy video as evidence against him to the police. Leafy recently wrote to him and said this was all r-worded. Keemstar also pointed out how stupid this all is. Neither of them like him, but they both had to deal with crazy anti-o. You’re all conspiracy theorists whack jobs. - (Hansen trespassed, Mike went to court) - Someone on twitter said he belongs in prison, but there was no crime. - All these people’s stories don’t line up. One person says he thinks he’s a god, another person says he’s a jerk, someone said he was rude to his husband. The consistency is he’s rude to people and you guys think that concludes a prison sentence. - People jumped to conclusions with Johnny Depp, but they flipped when they saw evidence of his girlfriend being awful. - He filmed himself walking in on Shiloh in the shower with a Go Pro. (He describes the sketch.) Says she was 18 or 19. He says it was a pretend prank. They also made a Taco Bell prank where they pretended to order in a drive thru when it was closed. He pretended to shave half of her head when she was sleeping. She told them to shave her head before the video. There was another prank where he said things like she’s not good enough at the end of the video. It’s what Youtubers do, it was fake drama. At the time you guys got it. The videos got 2,000 likes and 200 dislikes. Later on it’s out of context and people don’t understand the vibe. He threw candy corn at her and she pretended to be upset. They were dating and it was part of the joke. (He dumped Shiloh for cheating and getting pregnant story.) - If someone calls the cops on you, that doesn’t mean what they said is true. The person that called was not even a verified neighbor. - He has a hater that lives across the water. He filmed him bulldozing his weeds and made a huge thing online about it. [No. That guy worked for the fish and wildlife department in their county. He was literally doing his job. He saw a violation and reported it. He sent the video to the county when he reported it. People online got a hold of the video online because it was with the public reports on the site.] Says it was primarily blackberry bushes, nettles, and devil’s club that he cleared. Things that significantly hurt adults and children. Anti-os freaked out about it and his yard is literally better now than it’s ever been. People say he destroyed his land. What a bunch of numbskulls. - He recently did a poll on twitter and asked if he made a poll for legal expenses and after he collects it he says the majority will go to fixing his car, if that’s fraud. 80% said yes. An anti-o did that and it’s not fraud? He did another poll asking if he told someone he could destroy their life and they later asked him to sign an NDA and he told them only if they sleep with him, would that be rape? People voted 8/10 yes. Says that’s what Sarah did to him. - People used to show up to their debates and after would say they never really hated him. They were just being an entertainer or liking the attention he was getting them. You’re dealing with a bunch of liars. - He’s never found someone who talked about honesty as much as him and wound up being a liar. He swears on his own life that he’s an honest person. - He says he doesn’t need to talk about things like how he was crying when his daughter fell out of a window, but he’s trying to be transparent. - Says the domestic violence call thing obviously never happened. He and Kai are not violent. Shiloh was violent. She was hauled away for threatening to frame him for murder. Her ex said she threatened to put a bowie knife in him. (Shiloh stole his money story.) You guys hail that person a hero because you don’t care about reality. - He thinks possibly someone heard him making a meltdown video, but the only neighbor he’s near is cool with him. They text every few months about bears they saw. They invited him once to a BBQ. The hater across the water watched his with their camcorder zoomed in like a peeping Tom. 🙄 - Anti-os love breaking the law. You either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain. [I swear if I got $1 every time I listened to him saying that quote I’d be rich.] They think they’re heroes, but they hurt people like villains. If you’re self righteous and you hurt others because you think you’re above other people, you’re a villain.  - He’s hurt a lot of people’s feeling and made people cry because he rejected them or said what was true. A lot of people don’t like that. - He talked to Kai about all this today and he was amused. Kai was upstairs smiling and chuckling about it. - Comment section is still closed because he doesn’t want people to talk about conspiracy theories. He’s thinking about making a forum so his fans can talk about his videos.

[lurafita]

Petvengers (Or, how Peter tricks NY heroes into pet adoption)

Again, this is also on Ao3, but I want to have duplicates, just in case.

here is the link if you want to read it on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19139326/chapters/45486811

This is part of a series.  This is bordering on crack, seriously. It is a lot of fun to write though. I hope you will enjoy it.

Peter has decided that New York's heroes should all have (at least one) pet. Because pets are awesome. Now he just has to convince them of it.

Here a little bit to catch you up:

As with all the other fics in the series, Civil War got resolved peacefully (and Ross is out of office), and Infinity War and Endgame did not and will not happen. This fanfiction series universe is a happy place. Okay? Good.

Tony and Pepper share custody over Peter with May. Peter occasionally calls Tony Dad (he might also at one point refer to Pepper as Mom, but Aunt May will always be Aunt May, without the title diminishing the magnitude of love he feels for her)

Peter has a male Pitbull named Hope, a shelter rescue dog who was about to be euthanized.

Tony has spilled the beans on live TV about Peter being heir to Stark Industries.

Peter is acquainted with some of NYPD's detectives and the captain.

Tony, being the overprotective helicopter parent he is, has used his, so far limited, access to nano-technology to make a watch for Peter that tracks pretty much everything and can't be taken off by anyone other than Tony (or, in the event of Tony's demise, Pepper, May, Happy, or Rhodey) – See part 1 and 2 of the series for reference.

Tony and Pepper still own and live in the Tower, and the Avengers all have rooms (floors) there as well. Due to the events of the second story in the series (the wounds we see and the scars we don't) May and Peter have also taken up residence in the tower (more specifically on Tony and Peppers floor, where they have their own living spaces). Though right now this arrangement is temporary and the two might move back into their house in Queens eventually.

Since I ignore Infinity War and Endgame, neither Tony nor Peter have nano-tech-suits. (Though they might at some point)

Also, the identities of other vigilantes are known to the Avengers (part of the fixed Accords thing)  

Last but never least, my very favorite part of this series, Peter swears in food names. Shit = Skittles, Damn = Donuts, Hell = Hot Dogs, Fuck = French Fries or Fruit Loops, any kind of name calling, i.e. Bitch, Ass, Fuckface, etc = Licorice

Chapter 1

Steve

Edward 'Ned' Leeds loved his best friend. He truly, absolutely, did. Peter was his brother from another mother.

However, that didn't change the fact that sometimes, Peter could be a teeny, tiny, little bit ridiculous.

Because who else would ever get the idea of tricking earths mightiest heroes into each adopting a shelter animal.

-

MyfriendscallmeMJ: Peter, you can't lie to save your life. How do you plan on tricking anyone, much less the Avengers, into taking a pet home? Especially since they already have you.

DefinitelynotSpiderman: Okay, first, rude. I can totally lie when I want to. In fact, I'm a great liar. Like,... Just look at my chatname! If that doesn't scream 'Master of deception', nothing does.

Guyinthechair: Ô_o...

MyfriendscallmeMJ: Ô_o...

DefinitelynotSpiderman: And second, I have a fool proof plan.

Guyinthechair: Ô_o...

MyfriendscallmeMJ: Ô_o...

DefinitelynotSpiderman: Parts of a fool proof plan... like... 46% of a plan,... that is not at all fool proof... but we can totally pull it off!

Guyinthechair: Yeah, somehow I do not feel confident about this. At all.

MyfriendscallmeMJ: What do you mean 'we'?

-

And so it was that Ned found himself, armed with his trusty camcorder, waiting in front of 'A heart has four paws' shelter for Peter, on a sunny Saturday morning. Really, all Peter had said was to meet him there at exactly 9:30am, and to be ready to film what would become 'a promotional video'.

Ned had absolutely no idea what Peter had planned, but it was either going to be absolutely epic, or completely embarrassing.

A quick look at his phone revealed the time to be 9:27, which left his best friend three minutes before Ned was allowed to officially change Peter's chatname into 'ThetardySpider'. He was already typing in his friends password into the first of many social media platforms, when (happy) barking reached his ears. He looked up to see Hope and Peter racing each other to reach him.

"Not late!"

Peter wheezed out as soon as he came to a stop in front of Ned.

"I totally did not forget to ask Friday to wake me up early today and was absolutely not just woken up 35 minutes ago by Hope licking my face off. Completely on time, that's me. Mr. Punctuality."

He doubled over immediately after, bracing his hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath.

Ned checked his phone. 9:29. Donuts! Oh well, knowing his best friend, an opportunity for assigning punishing nicknames would present itself once again. So he bent down to give Hope some love, while Peter was finally regaining his lost oxygen.

"Okay! We all set? You got your camera, Ned?"

He held it up for Peter to see.

"What am I even supposed to film with it? And shouldn't you have brought at least one of the people you intend to con into pet acquisition with you, oh great master of deception?"

"Please, you make me sound like a criminal. I'm not going to 'con' anyone, just persuade them to do something I want by slightly bending the truth."

Ned gave him a deadpan look.

"Pete, that is the textbook definition of conning someone."

But the brunette waved him off, digging his phone out of his pants.

"Semantics. Now, Steve left for his morning jog at 5, the freak, and since it's Saturday and there is no mission to prepare for, he wanted to make it a full run 'round."

Ned's yaw dropped.

"Are you telling me Captain America is jogging through all of New York?"

Peter nodded distractedly while typing something into his phone.

"And he got up a 5 am to do it. 5 am, Ned! Sleep-hating-freak. Not even Sam and Bucky joined him for something this crazy. I mean, 5 am, Ned!"

"You know you have gotten up earlier than that. Actually, you have stayed up later than that."

His exclamation was waved away again.

"That was for Spiderman, and lab time with Tony,... and cartoons. You know, important stuff. Not to go jogging!"

Peter shuddered for effect.

"Anyway, according to his usual running speed, traffic, roadblocks, calculated detours and approximate number of stops he had to make to hydrate or take a selfie with a fan, he should be in this general area by now."

Apparently having finished with his first task on the phone, Peter then scrolled through his contacts and hit the call button for one 'Star spangled man with a plan'. He didn't have to wait long for Steve to accept the call.

"Hey Pete, what-"

"STEVE! IT'S AN EMERGENCY! COME TO LEE AVENUE 14! HURRY!" And then Peter promptly hung up.

Ned stared at him open mouthed for three long seconds, then he beamed and proudly patted his friend on the shoulder.

"You just lied to Captain America without stuttering, over-explaining yourself, or dissolving into a puddle of anxiety! Good for you!"

Peter's grin couldn't possibly be wider.

"Thanks! For a moment there I thought I was going to choke, but then I pulled through! Tasha practiced with me for two hours last night."

"The Black Widow knows about your plans?"

Peter nodded.

"Tasha knows everything."

"Does she know about the-"

"Yeah."

"And about the time when-"

"Yeah."

"And what about-"

"She knows that, too."

Ned let out a reverent "Whooow."

Then he thought of something else.

"What if the Captain calls the other Avengers for backup, thinking you are in trouble?"

"I told Karen to inform Friday to ignore any assemble requests made by Steve, right after my phone call with him."

"So that's what you were typing on your phone earlier."

Peter nodded, then suddenly looked down the street in front of them, Hope simultaneously lifted his head from where it had been resting on his paws.

"Get your camera ready, Cap is closing in."

Ned did just that, and forever captured on film as one (very sweaty) Steve Rogers ran full speed to the two of them.

"Peter!"

He didn't take long to reach the two teens, even with an excited Hope jumping up and around him to greet the super soldier.

"What happened? Are you hurt? Are you two okay? Is there a new villain? What's the situation? I called for backup, the others should be here shortly."

Knowing they would not, Peter grabbed for Hope to hold the enthusiastic Pitbull at bay, and waited for Steve to finish with his visual assessment of any possibly sustained injuries. Then he grinned.

"Quick, the one needing your help is inside!"

He grabbed the blonde's arm and unceremoniously pulled him through the shelter doors, a still filming Ned and tail wagging Hope right behind them.

_

Andrew was just getting some of the forms for new owners in order, when the automatic doors of the entrance opened with a ding, causing him to abandon his task for later.

He did a double take when non other than Captain America, Steve Rogers, in civilian (and kinda sweat stained) clothes was dragged in by a familiar looking teenager. Followed by another teenager holding a camcorder fixed on the american icon, and a familiar looking Pitbull.

Since his brain was obviously not equipped to sort through everything at once, he focused on the issue that was the easiest to resolve.

"Hey! You are that kid that was here with Tony Stark, right?"

Said kid grinned and proceeded to drag Captain freaking America to the front desk.

"Yes! I remember you too! I'm Peter, by the way. I see you did some remodeling with the place."

Andrew smiled and shook the teen's hand.

"Hi Peter, I'm Andrew. And yes, thanks to Mr. Stark's generous donation, we were able to expand quite a bit. Even got some space out back, for the bigger ones to run a little."

"That's great!"

"You aren't here to return your dog, are you?"

"Never! Hope is ohana, and ohana means family."

"Good, good. Say, quick question, kid. Is that man with you Steve Rogers, aka Captain America?"

"He is."

"Peter."

The authoritative voice of the living american legend, pulled Peter and Andrew out of their little conversation, and brought their full attention on him. Steve, for his part, after having scanned the buildings lobby for possible threats, or other dangerous things, and valiantly ignoring the camera Peter's friend kept trained on him the whole time, took a deep breath.

Calm, be calm.

"Peter, why am I here?"

The teen grinned brightly.

"Rescue mission."

Calm, remain calm.

"And who, exactly, needs to be rescued?"

The grin got brighter.

"Well, whoever you decide on taking home with you. Though I've always kinda pegged you for a dog person, so maybe we should start with them."

Calm, calm, calm, you fought in wars, soldier. Keep calm.

"Son, I'm not getting a dog."

The kid shrugged.

"Okay, the cats here are great too! Or maybe you want a bird? Some of these have a pretty long lifespan, you know? We can also look at the smaller animals. They have ferrets, and chinchillas, and rabbits-"

You fought aliens, and an insane robot, your boyfriend was brainwashed into trying to kill you and one of your best friends is Tony Stark! If you can live through all that, you can get through this insanity too.

"-though I really think you should get a dog. It just fits, you know?"

Calm, calm.

"Peter, I am not getting a dog!"

-

"So, this is Colonel. He is a mixed breed of unknown origins, though the shelter worker said that there is definitely some German Shepard in there."

Steve was met with the non blinking eyes of his fellow Avengers and friends, and their assorted families, who were for once all in attendance in the tower's common floor living room.

The Barton kids (minus Nathaniel, who was busy spreading mashed potatoes everywhere that wasn't his mouth, and especially his father at the moment) and Peter were playing with the two dogs.

Then Clint (who really didn't look at all intimidating with a toddler on his lap and mashed potatoes all over his face) was staring imploringly at his wife, Laura skillfully ignored her husband, Natasha went over to Peter to congratulate him on his successful manipulation of another human being, Sam groaned about not scooping up any poop, Bucky joined the kids and dogs on the floor, Pepper shook her head, May refilled both her, Laura's and Pepper's wine glasses, Bruce hid a smile in his book, and Tony almost fell off the couch, he was laughing so hard.

"Your dog has a higher military rank than you!"

-

end chapter 1

Next up: Bucky and Sam :-)

#peter parker #BAMF Peter #peter is a little shit #tony stark #iron dad #spider son #avengers #avengers as family #DOMESTIC AVENGERS #pets #peter has a dog #hope the dog #fanfic #petvengers #dad tony #son peter #tony stark acting as peter parkers parental figure #peter tricks ny heroes into adopting pets #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #shelter animals #pepper potts #may parker #bruce banner #bucky barnes #sam wilson #clint barton #barton kids #michelle jones #ned leeds

[tonidshipper]

The Sky In My Heart Clears - A YoshiMaru Fanfiction

Read on Ao3: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Chapter 2: That’s one hell of an opportunity indeed 

Chapter Summary:  In which Yoshiko is just plain confused with how her day is going.

Yoshiko have Cinematography 1 and Film Theories 1 for today, both of which are morning classes so it is convenient that she is scheduled for an afternoon interview.

Cinematography is interesting, as usual. They’re finally testing the different cameras to use for filmmaking. The Arriflex’ video quality was superb but, she is much more comfortable with the low-costs filmmaking using a DSLR. Thanks to Mari’s gift, her DSLR is up to date with the new ones. She was still using a camcorder back then for her ‘fallen angel livestream for the little demons’ and it was also the same one they used to film their first few Aqours PV and other content. Compared to the DSLR, that camcorder was like a potato, as the internet would say.

Since Yoshiko got the camera, she’s been studying the functions and using it to practice which is why she’s thankful that when they start making their short film projects, they’re not required to use the Arriflex and they can use their rigs. For this term, at least. They will have to use it at some point for Cinematography 2 though.

After that fun class comes Yoshiko’s least favorite course, Film Theories 1. Mis-en-scene is the current topic, which Yoshiko defines as ‘everything you see on the set and in the scene, basically ’. Of course, it is a lot more broader than that, with the different elements and all, but she is just very distracted by the fact that she will be going to an interview after class.

As soon as their professor dismisses them, Yoshiko bolts out of her seat and out of the classroom.

She barely makes it on time. She enters the building, showing her ID to the security guard. She receives a pass which she pins to her ID before heading towards the reception desk.

“Hi, how can I help you?” The brunette receptionist inquires.

“Hello, I’m here for an interview with-” Crap, she forgot the name of the person she was supposed to look for. “Sorry, let me just get my phone,” she says.

The receptionist practically beams at her before which, Yoshiko doesn’t really know how to react to. The older woman watches her for a few seconds. “Tsushima Yoshiko-san, right?” She asks. Dumbfounded, Yoshiko nods. “It’s nice to meet you. My younger sister is a fan of Aqours. As am I, as an extension.”

Oh, right. “A-Ah, yes. Thank you for your support.” She smiles then bows her head, not sure how to react once again. She really needs to calm down, she scolds herself mentally for it. Yoshiko finally manages to fish her phone out and read the text from last night. “Sorry, I’m looking for Tanaka Keiko-san.”

The woman nods in acknowledgement. “For a moment please, Tsushima-san.”

Yoshiko still can’t believe that people recognize her for being a part of Aqours up to this day. In fact, the friends she met in university approached her because they recognized her. While it did have its perks, Yoshiko feels like some people are reluctant to approach her because of it.

A woman comes up to the reception desk while Yoshiko is lost in thought. The receptionist knows her, it seems.

“Ah, you’re here to see Tanaka-san?”

“Yup! She’s here, right?”

“Yes but Tsushima-san here is being scouted as a talent, I believe and she’s asked by Tanaka-san to come here for an interview.”

“A talen-?” Yoshiko mumbles to herself in confusion and finally glances at the person the receptionist is talking to. The woman is shorter than her by 2 inches, probably. Her hair is jet black hair which are tied into high pigtails with red ribbons on both sides. The woman’s ruby eyes are doing the same thing - looking at her curiously.

Then, the woman grins. And Yoshiko swears she has never been more stunned in her life. It’s almost impossible for Yoshiko not to recognize who this person is. After all, Chika would gush about them back in high school non-stop during the time they were in the process of establishing Aqours. Also, Ruby and Hanamaru managed to make her watch a lot of their music videos and TV guestings. Because of that, somehow, Yoshiko knows what the woman will say next.

“Nico-Nico-Nii!”

“Y-Y-Yazawa N-Nico-san!”

Nico strikes her signature pose while Yoshiko bows.

“Call me Nico! You’ll be working with Nico, after all. You’re Tsushima Yoshiko of Aqours, right?” Nico tilts her head. Still, Yoshiko hasn’t recovered from the shock that is meeting one of Aqours’ inspiration that she can only nod. “Ah, this is amazing! Hanayo’s going to flip when she hears that Nico’s going to work with a member of Aqours!”

A lot of things are going on in Yoshiko’s mind. First is, what the hell? Second is the Yazawa Nico of μ's somehow knows her and the rest of Aqours. Third, did the idol just say that she’ll be working with her?

“N-Nice to meet y-you, Nico-senpai,” is what Yoshiko manages to reply because honestly, what do you even reply at a time like this?

Nico grins. “Likewise! You can drop the senpai too, really. But that’s up to you. And, since we’re both heading towards Kei-chan’s office, let’s go together!” The idol waves at the receptionist and heads toward the elevators.

The younger girl continues to stands there in shock which Nico has noticed. The idol looks back at her. “Tsushima-san?”

“E-eh!” Flustered, Yoshiko nearly jumps at the sound of the idol calling her. “P-Please, just call me Yoha-” No, not that, she scolds herself. “Yoshiko.” She bows down to the woman behind the reception desk who seems pretty entertained by their interaction before following Nico.

When Yoshiko was still in high school, she could remember their no. 1 resident idol expert, Dia, saying that Nico was the only one from μ's who actually continued being an idol. Yoshiko remembered the older Kurosawa saying that even if μ's had already made a name for themselves, Nico still worked hard and started in a small agency. But she made it big in the end. Which is why Yoshiko still can’t comprehend how she’s now standing next to one of the members of μ's in an elevator.

“Nico was with Kei-chan when she was sorting through the submissions from applicants.” The older woman starts, breaking the silence. “When she mentioned your name, Nico had to look at your profile because Nico had to make sure that she heard that correctly since I’m a fan of Aqours. I then ended up showing a bunch of videos from Aqours. Nico’s always been really impressed with your voice. When Kei-chan heard you, she was too.”

Yoshiko takes note of the fact that Nico refers to herself in third person which, she finds odd. Then again, Yoshiko referred to herself as 'the fallen angel, Yohane' for so many years that she really shouldn’t judge. Also, did her senior just say that she’s a fan of Aqours? “T-Thank you very much,” is all Yoshiko musters to reply.

Nico tilts her head then laughs. “I know Nico’s presence is stunning but you don’t have to be so reserved!” The older woman is grinning at her. “You need to get used to being with the No.1 idol in the universe if you’ll be working with me on this project after all.”

Okay, she’s… a lot of things, Yoshiko thinks, for the lack of a better word. Overwhelming might be the closest word to what she’s feeling but not exactly. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect to meet you and you’re even saying you’re a fan of our school idol group,” Yoshiko explains, slightly bowing her head as a sign of her apology as well. “Aqours was actually established because our leader was inspired by μ's. She eventually managed to turn us into fans as well. We look up to μ's so much so it’s quite a surprise to hear that from you.”

The elevator stops and Yoshiko sees that they are on the fifth floor. Nico gestures for her to go, so she does and the idol gets off as well then begins walking down the hall. “Takami Chika-san did mention in a few magazine interviews, yeah.” She even knew Chika? At first Yoshiko was thinking maybe Nico was just being humble but, holy shit, is she serious? “Nico likes to be updated with the winners of Love Live. It’s nice to see new faces in the industry, y’know?” The idol continues walking until they reach a door at the end of the hall.

Yoshiko watches as Nico raises a hand to knock on the door three times before turning the knob and swinging the door violently. She stands there in shock as Nico barges in. “Your favorite idol is here!” Nico announces. By the doorway, Yoshiko sees paper, crumpled into a ball, thrown at Nico’s forehead. “Hey…” the idol’s voice lowers and she scowls at who Yoshiko assumes is Tanaka Keiko. “You can’t treat me like that! Especially when I was kind enough to bring you the company's latest recruit!"

The fallen angel feels her face loosen into a smirk. So the idol’s demeanor totally changes when she’s talking to people she’s close to, maybe?

“It was just coincidence that you happen to arrive at the same time, Yazawa.” A stern, modulated voice comes from the inside. “Tsushima-san, please come inside.”

At the sound of her name, Yoshiko walks to the door, peeking inside the room first. She’s met by two keen, blue eyes that followed her as she makes her way inside. They’re not exactly harsh. Rather, the eyes reflected warmth and kindness. Somehow, she feels calmer than before. Yoshiko bows down. “I’m Tsushima Yoshiko. It is a pleasure to meet you,” she greets.

“The pleasure is mine, Tsushima-san.” The woman, dressed in a black blazer over a white shirt tilts her head and smiles. She then stands up from her seat. “My name is Tanaka Keiko. I’m one of the artist managers here in Grand Sky Entertainment.” The auburn-haired woman says. Yoshiko nods in acknowledgement but wonders why she’s meeting an artist manager . Shouldn’t she be meeting the Human Resources for hiring? From her peripheral vision, she sees Nico lounging on a leather couch inside the room and looking at her phone. “Thank you for coming today. Please have a seat.” Keiko gestures the seat in front of her table.

The college student obeys. “I’ve read your profile,” the manager starts. “I do admit that I am quite interested because you came from a school idol group much like Yazawa. Though I’ll be frank, I almost didn’t consider sending you an invite.” Again, her blue eyes looks at Yoshiko, as if seeing how she reacts. When she sees that Yoshiko still looks at her with a determined face, she smiles then continues. “The reason for that is because you’re still a student. You see, we here at Grand Sky rarely accept students because of schedules and conflicts.

However, Yazawa over there insisted because she was very sure that you’d do well so the whole student issue will not apply,” She gestures Nico who is now playing what seems to be a rhythm game on her phone. She has her tongue stuck out of her mouth as she played the game. Yoshiko is getting more confused by the second. What exactly is going on? “Which is why I’d like to know if you’re willing to commit to us, if ever we do accept you in the agency. We don’t just take in people, Tsushima-san. We develop them.”

“Basically,” the idol intervenes, making Yoshiko look at her direction. “What she’s trying to say is that she’s willing to take you in as a talent of Grand Sky and not just someone they call occasionally for a job,” Nico mumbles from the couch. Keiko shoots her a look which she doesn’t even see because she’s too busy playing- “Ah, I was scouting for a UR! What’s with these SRs? Stupid game...” -School Idol Festival, it seems.

Keiko clears her throat, Yoshiko’s attention immediately diverted back to her. “Before I was rudely interrupted by-”

“The number one idol in the universe.”

“I was going to say number one annoyance in my ass,” Yoshiko can’t help but let out a subtle chuckle at that. If the idol did notice, she decided not to comment about it. “But yes, Yazawa is correct. We’re willing to take you in as a talent. Of course, that means you’ll go through formal trainings if you’re on board.”

Yoshiko looks at them, bewildered at what is currently happening. “U-Uhm, you must be mistaken, I’m applying as the part-time assis-”

“And we’re offering that you be a talent of ours instead. We do know you’re looking for the job experience since it does say here that you go to a film school. And yes, we are looking for part-timers willing to assist us in some of our shootings and recordings. But, Yazawa over there has sent in a video of yours back when you were still engaged in your school idol activities. I was impressed with your voice and Yazawa gave me the idea that maybe we could scout you as a talent instead.” Keiko explains.

Nico puts her phone down and smiles at Yoshiko. “Unless you’d rather sort out scripts, manage the schedule and all that, I’m sure Kei-chan’s willing to hire you as an assistant around here too, of course.” The idol chuckles. “Totally up to you, Yoshiko-chan.”

In the end, they gave Yoshiko a few days to think about the offer. She has absolutely no idea how things escalated so quickly. She walked in there, applying to help out for music video shoots and studio recordings - how did she end up with a contract to be Grand Sky’s newest rising talent?

“Admittedly, from a business standpoint, you’re very bankable, Tsushima-san.” Yoshiko remembers Keiko’s words from earlier.“You’ve got a good number of followers and fans up to this day, even if you do not realize this yourself. Aqours may have stopped performing but your fans have stayed. That’s part of why we’re scouting you.

As for Yazawa, she’s coming from a fan’s standpoint. School idol groups from Love Live! tend to disband after a few members graduate. Only a few decide to stay together and transition as professional idols, A-Rise being the first. Fans are devastated when that happens. I think that’s why Yazawa is so insistent to take you in. Because she knows how it feels to have a group disband at the peak of their career. She knows how μ's fans felt during their disbandment.  She also knows that you’ve got so much potential than just sorting out schedules and scripts, and all that kind of work.”

It’s flattering to have someone like Yazawa Nico, one of the most popular idols right now, believe in her so much but, Yoshiko’s not really sure if she can live up to the expectations that her senpai has of her.

“Give it some thought, Yoshiko-chan,” is what Nico said before she went out of Keiko’s office. “We’re not pressuring you or anything. Like Nico said earlier, Kei-chan can offer you the assistant job if you’re set on that. Nico personally thinks that Yoshiko-chan’s got a lot more to offer so, we want to give you the opportunity.”

Yeah, opportunity. That’s one hell of an opportunity indeed. But can she really do it? Besides, she’s studying and she actually likes films. What happens when she agrees to become Grand Sky’s talent? She didn’t really look into what Grand Sky’s talents does because she wasn’t even applying to be one but now, she’d be lying if she says that she’s not interested.

And so, Yoshiko relies on Google.

Apparently, Grand Sky was previously known as a voice acting school and a recording studio.

So, voice acting?

But Grand Sky isn’t just a voice acting school now. When Yazawa Nico, who was under a small entertainment label back then, signed as an endorser and became the face of the company four years ago, she became a game changer for Grand Sky as she attracted investors because of her fame. From then on, it was eventually turned into an entertainment label.

It turns out that during that time, Nico was in the process of going on as a freelance idol because of misunderstandings with her previous label. It was not disclosed but a lot speculated that it has something to do with the idol love ban that her previous label strictly imposed. There are a lot of gossips on the internet about the issue.

Yoshiko makes a mental note that she really shouldn’t look too much into it. The idol love ban is stupid anyway, in Yoshiko’s opinion. It was not confirmed whether that was true but whatever they did to Nico was enough for her to think that she should go on her idol career as a freelancer. That was supposed to be the case however, she figured she could stay with another company for a while so she signed with Grand Sky as their talent. Because of Grand Sky’s sudden popularity, Nico eventually decided to invest on the company as well, now making her a shareholder.

Another contribution that Nico did for the industry other than helping Grand Sky to establish a name as one of the fastest growing entertainment label is the school idol transition program. Grand Sky is closely tied with Love Live! as school idols who decide to go professional are trained there and eventually, they debut as Grand Sky’s new idol group. In short, it became a starting ground for school idols transitioning to professional idols.

Yoshiko’s jaw slacks at Nico’s achievements, business wise. She’s already known how huge the name Yazawa Nico is in the entertainment industry - the idol industry, to be exact so it’s not surprising to hear about achievements such as music awards and idol recognition. Impressive but not surprising. But when she thinks of how her senior was acting earlier, she wouldn’t have thought that the behind the child-like appearance and personality, the idol is a force to be reckoned with. Clearly, more than being just an idol, Nico has thought of helping other idols which, in turn, helps out the idol industry.

Well, Yazawa Nico’s pretty amazing but still, what did she see in her for her to be so insistent on taking her in as a talent? Yoshiko’s been so into her research that she jumps in surprise when her phone rang.

Call from: Zuramaru

Yoshiko swipes on the screen to answer the call. “He-”

“Yoshiko-chan?! Are you alright?!” Comes her friend’s worried (and unnecessarily loud) voice from the earpiece of the phone.

“Eh? I’m fine! I’m fine! What’s wrong Zuramaru?”

A sigh. “Thank goodness, zura!” Yoshiko hears actual relief from Hanamaru’s voice. “I’ve been texting you multiple times earlier and you haven’t replied so I thought you might be busy or you’re still bein’ interviewed but, it’s been hours and you aren’t replying so I thought something might’ve happened to you, zura. I kind of panicked and decided to call you-”

As Hanamaru continues telling her why she’s panicking, a smile tugs at Yoshiko’s lips as she feels warmth envelope her. She’s so cute, she thinks to herself. “Zuramaru,” Yoshiko says and almost immediately, Hanamaru stops. “Breathe,” she instructs and sure enough, Hanamaru exhales. “I’m sorry I haven’t replied. And, thank you for worrying about me. I just had,” Yoshiko pauses, thinking of the right word to describe what just happened to her. “a bizarre day.”

Hanamaru hums. “Did you not get the job, Yoshiko-chan?”

“Quite the opposite, Zuramaru.” Yoshiko lies down her apartment floor and stretches. “I got offered a different job.”

So she spends a good couple of minutes explaining everything to her best friend. “And now, I’ve got a contract with Grand Sky that I’m not sure what to do with.” Hanamaru is silent on the other end and Yoshiko begins to wonder if the other girl had fallen asleep somewhere along her story. “Zuramaru?”

“You met Yazawa Nico-san?! Nico-san from μ's?!”

“Glad to know you’re excited for my new job, Zuramaru.” Yoshiko jokes.

Surprised Hanamaru noises follow afterwards which makes Yoshiko laugh. “That’s not what I meant! Of course I’m happy for you, zura!” Her friend exclaims. “But I think it’s astonishing that you met Yazawa Nico! Was she kind?”

Yoshiko thinks. “Well, she is. But she is also a lot of things.”

“I can imagine, zura.” Silence. “I hope you’re not feeling pressured, Yoshiko-chan. You can say no if you feel like it’s not for you.”

“I know, thank you Hanamaru. Actually, Nico-senpai said that they’re not pressuring me into it.” Yoshiko scratches her cheeks with a finger, lost in thought. “Honestly though, a part of me feels like I want it. I’ve always liked performing. You know how I am with my theatrics.” That earns her a giggle from Hanamaru. “I don’t know Zuramaru. When I think about myself, doing these kinds of things, it just doesn’t feel right.”

“Why so?”

Why? Yoshiko sighs. “It doesn’t feel right not to have you, and everyone else by me.”

Aqours has always Aqours. They all performed as part Aqours. When she thinks of her, alone, without the eight girls she’s been with during their time in the limelight, it feels lonely.

“Y’know, Yoshiko-chan? Sometimes I just wish I was there with you,” Hanamaru says it so genuinely that Yoshiko can’t help but smile sadly. “You sound so different - so sad at times, zura. You know we’re all just here for you, right?”

“Hmm...” Yoshiko sighs. “Zuramaru…” she groans and makes sure to drag out the last syllable, sounding like a whine.

“Now, now, Yoshiko-chan, don’t make me go there,” Hanamaru replies, chuckling. “But really, I feel like you’ve got so much going on so I really worry whether you’re getting enough rest and if you’re eating well, zura.”

Yoshiko leans her head against the table, sighing. Hanamaru always know how to warm her heart. Along with this is a longing to see the girl in person. “I’m alright, Zuramaru. You’re talking about Yohane, the fallen angel! Sustenance is not a problem for me unlike mere mortals like yourself,” Yoshiko says to lighten up the conversation also because Hanamaru has done enough worrying for today. As if on cue though, her stomach rumbles.

“Sure, Yoshiko-chan. Also, I heard that, zura.”

“Zuramaru!” Yoshiko groans in embarrassment as she hears Hanamaru laughing on the other line. She can’t help but smile though because somehow, she feels a lot better. “Fine, I’ll prepare my food.” Yoshiko grumbles. “Say, have you eaten yet?”

“Yes, I have,” Hanamaru answers. “Uhm, do you want me to hang up?”

Yoshiko looks a the time. It’s just 7:30 in the evening. She and Hanamaru have stayed on the phone later than that so maybe she should try and push for a few more minutes. “Shouldn’t I be the one hanging up, since you’re the one who called?”

Hanamaru giggles. “Well, it is not like it is a written rule, zura.”

“It’s a tradition!” Yoshiko exclaims, earning her another laugh from Hanamaru. “A-Are you tired yet, though? If you are, then it’s fine,” she mumbles.

“Does this mean that Yoshiko-chan wants me to accompany her longer, I wonder…” the temple girl says, her tone teasing.

Yoshiko chuckles. “And you call me horrible.” She shakes her head, smiling. Yoshiko stands up and starts heating up some leftovers from her meal the other day. “Is it bad though, if I want you to stay longer?”

She hears Hanamaru make one of her usual ‘Hanamaru noises’ - which is usually a small gasp or a low humming sound or, sometimes just a dragged out ‘zuraaaa’. Yoshiko thinks it’s very adorable when she does that. Though, she wonders what Hanamaru is doing since it’s taking a while for her to reply.

“Zuramaru?”

“Eh?!”

Yoshiko raises an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

“I am fine, Yoshiko-chan! I-I said I’d actually love to, zura.” Hanamaru replies quickly. “O-Oh, and Yoshiko-chan, actually I’m curious. Did Yazawa-san do that thing she does?”

What was up with that sudden change of subject? Yoshiko wonders but she doesn’t address it. Instead she asks, “Thing?”

“You know! Did she do the ‘Nico-Nico-Nii’ at you, zura?”

Yoshiko laughs. “Yeah,” she says. “That she definitely did.”

The two of them spend the rest of the evening, talking, as Hanamaru accompanies Yoshiko while she eats.

Still, as they continue talking, Yoshiko can’t help but think back to what Hanamaru has said earlier.

She really wishes that her best friend is actually there with her, too.

#shut up tonie #text post #love live sunshine #lls #fanfiction #Yoshimaru #Yohamaru #Yoshiko Tsushima #Tsushima Yoshiko #Hanamaru Kunikida #Kunikida Hanamaru #Aqours #bbp writes #toni writes #TSIMHC #The Sky In My Heart Clears #Tsushima Yoshiko/Kunikida Hanamaru #Dia Kurosawa #Ruby Kurosawa #Riko Sakurauchi #Chika Takami #You Watanabe #Mari Ohara #Kanan Matsuura #Leah Kazuno #Sarah Kazuno #Nico Yazawa

[passiontaee]

[rec:] (m) | 02

pairing: leaderline x reader

genre: smut

ratings: m 18+

warnings: studio sex, slight daddy kink, choking, foursome, crying kink, cum play, spanking, light bondage, anal sex, double penetration

word count:  2,919

summary: it’s not easy dating idols, let alone two. but luckily they’re in the same group. the only problem is one of their group members has his eye on you too and well, three guys one girl? Seungcheol makes your blood boil but yet and still he also seems to know how to make you weak in the knees. and whether you know it ot not, Soonyoung and Jihoon have picked up on this and have arranged something for their baby girl.

a/n: oof chapter two of the first part uwu

“We’re having a foursome,” Seungcheol blurts out.

You look at the three blankly. Despite being thoroughly fucked out from Soonyoung finger fucking you until your toes curled, you’re at a loss of for words. What? You start laughing at the absurdity of it, letting your body lean into Soonyoung’s. Jihoon’s arms are crossed and Seungcheol doesn’t look too happy about your reaction. You reach a hand up, carding your fingers through the blonde’s hair. Soft, despite the bleaching from their latest comeback. 

“We’re not having a foursome,” you insist. You’re not letting Choi Seungcheol anywhere near your body. Despite how your loins ache for him currently, having been aroused at the sight of him watching one of your boyfriends eat you so thoroughly. Your cheeks color at the memory of how hard he’d looked at you, as if peering into your soul. 

“We’re not? I thought you wanted this baby?” Soonyoung speaks up against your throat, rolling his hips against your thigh this time. He’s completely erect and you’re aware that it must be uncomfortable in those jeans. Maybe you should drop to your knees and repay the favor. You lick your lips at the thought. 

“Y/n you don’t have to lie to us. We’re fine with it,” Jihoon sighs. You look at him as if he’d told you that he’s going to be growing ten inches in the next year. They’re fine with it? 

“Wha—”

“Mingyu? We knew what was happening so we sent him at you. We’d already planned this out weeks ago. You’re not really slick with hiding how you feel, even towards Seungcheol. The last time we had sex you moaned his name on accident. I don’t even think you remembered that,” Soonyoung sounds amused, but you’re horrified. Seungcheol apparently finds this funny because he laughs at this, amused. 

“You moaned my name? I knew you had a thing for me. You’re so tsundere,” he shakes his head at you and you want to grab Jihoon’s expensive electronics and throw them all at him. How dare he talk so highly of himself when he’s the one who’s the outsider? He’s got some nerve, you think to yourself, pouting. 

“I still say no,”

“Come on, it should be fun! Look, Jihoonie’s down for it. I’m down for it. Cheol-hyung is totally down for it. You’re the only one who’s putting up resistance though you’re the main one who’s wanting it,” you’re caught by Soonyoung’s words, knowing he, in fact, knows you better than anyone. And therefore, he knows that you really have be lusting after the leader. You eye them all again, seeing the all too eager look in Seungcheol’s eyes and you relent. Far too easily. 

“Fine.”

♡

You’re not even sure how they'll manage to fit.  

The hoodie had been snatched off as soon as they decided to collectively pounce; Jihoon and Soonyoung at your neck with Seungcheol claiming your mouth. Of course a competition was made out of it as you two fought for dominance, but he’d won, obviously. They’d wrestled you onto the floor, stroking your hair and calling you a good girl as Jihoon tied you up with some electrical cables he’d had on his desk, promising he had a switchblade to cut them off once you were all done. You were their toy for the evening, for now. You promise to let them use you, to fuck you in every hole you have and fill you up in more ways than you can imagine. Have you ever been so horny? You’re barely knelt before it’s Seungcheol who’s whipping his length out; angrily pink and one of the prettiest cocks you’ve seen on your life. It’s hard; roaring to life and pearling white pre-ejaculate from the rose tip. Your mouth waters at the sights as he presses his tip at your mouth, Jihoon sitting in his chair, twirling your panties around his small fingers as he watches you hungrily, hand disappearing into his own sweats as Soonyoung stands beside the leader, his cock in his hand as well, pumping it as your lips part to receive Seungcheol’s girth, eyes darting between the three men. Jihoon’s free hand finds the camcorder the boys use to film videos with, deciding this will do for your sexual rendezvous. The attention of the camera has you willing to act, turning on your charm as you open your mouth to allow him to slide in just the tip, swirling your tongue around the head of his erection, his hips struggling to not just buck and shove all the inches down your throat. You four have plenty of time, and plan on using it. 

“Fuck, your mouth feels amazing,” the brunette hisses, Soonyoung rubbing his own cock against your cheek, smearing it with his pearly white fluid as he nods, eyes fixated on you. 

“Just wait til you get to her pussy, it’s even better,” he insists, causing the three men to moan. You suck and lick, making sure it’s messy and sloppy. Eyes darting up to look at the man before you. This same man who you swore you’d smother in his sleep yet at the same time you’d purposely wear the teeniest shorts around the dorms whenever you visited and knew Seungcheol was there, just to flaunt your golden legs and watch hims stumble over himself as he struggles to keep his hands off of what isn’t his. But right now, you’re his as well. And he can finally be greedy and show you just what being only his could feel like. You long to touch one of them, to pull one closer, but you can’t due to being tied up—it’s no even a problem but the desire to touch and feel is so strong that it has you struggling a little in your restraints. Soonyoung’s hand cups your jaw, tugging gently at it as if asking you to take more of Seungcheol, and you eagerly oblige for him to slide in further until his tip is snugly pressing into the back of your throat. You struggle just moderately to breathe, but you hear cooing from Jihoon that relaxes you. You look over and see he’s stroking his shaft quickly, camera steadily on you. 

“Look at you, being such a slut for three fat dicks,” he starts up, filth flowing out of his mouth like water. You moan, pressing your legs together, feeling Soonyoung seeming to want in as well. Luckily for you, having two boyfriends meant practicing slobbering all over two cocks at once, so you just open your mouth a little more for Soonyoung’s tip to follow in behind Seungcheol’s, both men cursing at the slick sensation of rubbing shafts and being inside your hot mouth. You smirk, eyeing the camera coquettishly and fluttering your lashes as you start to bob your head slowly, getting used to the stretch of your mouth. Jihoon curses from his spot, moving a little closer. “What a slut. Really, taking two at once? I wonder can you fit three, but maybe later. For now, such their cocks like a good girl,” 

You’re positively leaking at this point, it not taking long before both men are fucking into the small orfice. Your mouth isn’t large enough for the thickness both men possess, so Soonyoung draws out and just ruts against your cheek as Seungcheol’s tip slips down your throat. But neither of you seem to care as his hips start moving and you relax your throat, letting him have free reign in fucking your mouth with no mercy, grunting and cursing as he looses himself. You look up and catch the underside of his jaw; all angular and sexy. You whimper, eyes watering as you struggle to breathe and struggle to not gag from the leader’s force, amazed by his beauty as well. Your boyfriends don’t hold back fisting their own members in tandem with Seungcheol’s thrusts, their deep and throaty groans filling the area of the mini studio. Your eyes close as you loose yourself, but Soonyoung’s hand is on your face again, giving you a warning look you know too well. Don’t you dare close your eyes it says loud as day, and you oblige. Your eyes lock with his as Seungcheol continues, until you feel his orgasm rock through him. You choke on semen as he pulls out, your mouth overflowing but he continues cumming onto your lips, your mouth opening for more though he sprays it on your lips to watch it drip inside. This of course triggers the other two, Jihoon even getting up to take part in coating your face and breasts with their ejaculate, spraying all over you when you do. You close your eyes as Soonyoung’s nearly blinds you, but you made a whimpering noise as you feel three cockheads rubbing the moisture into your skin like a skincare routine. You look up at the three, eyes a little unfocused, and you’re positive one of them swears. 

♡

In no time you’re up on your feet, pressed into Soonyoung who kisses you with vigor. Your mouth reacts naturally as you feel yourself being pulled along as he seats himself in Jihoon’s “throne”. The other two males watch as you’re guided down by your hair to become face to face, yet again, with Soonyoung’s crotch. You lick across his softening cock slowly, to entice him as he grabs the camera from Jihoon and focuses on your face. Seongcheol moves behind you, rubbing a large hand over your ass. 

“You two think she can fit two cocks in her at once?” he questions. Your legs nearly give out. 

“Possibly. We haven’t tried it before but I’m sure she can. This cunt can take anything, I’m positive,” Jihoon points out, landing a smack against your left cheek. You cry out, even as he soothes over the spot with a gentle rub, before smacking again, another rub following behind it. 

“You’re so good to us, y/n. So pliant and eager to please. I can’t wait to sit here and watch you choke and take two of us at the same time,” he breathes.

“I want this beautiful ass. I’ve been dying to have it squeeze my dick,” Seungcheol says, running a finger across your pucker lightly. You clench it instinctively, shuddering. “Do you two have lube?” 

Soonyoung rummages around int he drawers beside him a little, keeping the camera focused on you. His cock is stirring to life again and you busy yourself with kissing at the still soft shaft, hoping it’ll spring to life soon. He grabs a bottle and tosses it to Seungcheol who catches it as Jihoon rubs his head against your folds, wetting himself up in your arousal. He sighs. 

“Fuck it’s been too long,” he breathes whistfully. Soonyoung laughs from where he strokes your hair, babbling sweet nonsense to you as you ressurect his boner. 

“We had sex two days ago, baby” 

“Yes, but I’ve missed it still,” he pouts, causing Soonyoung to roll his eyes. Meanwhile, Seungcheol’s uncapping the bottle, drizzling the cold liquid all over your clenching rim, your body reacting immediately with a shudder. Jihoon slides in and you curse, Seungcheol prodding at your asshole with the blunt head of his cock. Soonyoung’s dick is roaring to live already, and you feel overwhelmed with sensations. The stretch of Seungcheol pushing in has you clenching at first, but you relax, remembering that clenching down would only make it worse. You mouth at Soonyoung’s balls along the underside of his cock and he struggles with filming, watching the sight of two men plugging both your holes and your mouth eagerly implying you want more cock shoved down your throat. 

“Daddy’s filthy little slut, taking two huge cocks at the same time. You just had one down your throat yet you want mine,” he says to you, and you preen, knowing that he knows your daddy kink is something serious. You swallow a testicle, sucking and slobbering all over it as his length slaps you across the face lightly, feeling your holes being slowly stretched, both men trying to figure out a constant, steady rhythm to please themselves and to please you. Not wanting two separate rhythms. Neither of them were for sure dancers—maybe Soonyoung should be back there—but they don’t complain.By the time you’ve got both balls in your mouth they’re thrusting more confidently, Jihoon’s breathy little moans following Seungcheol’s deep ones, both men’s hands pawwing at your hips. Seuncheol’s roll up to your breasts cupping them from beneath you and pulls you back to take both of them in each hole as Soonyoung pulls you away from his balls, placing your head at his dick. “Suck,” he insists, though it’s a command—you know one when you hear one. It isn’t hard to tell the three were, at this point, eager to get off, get you off, and feel you in all ways possible, and it sort of pleases you to know three extremely attractive males would like to collectively rearrange your guts. You can actually feel Seungcheol’s tip poking through your stomach, actually in your guts. And it’s arousing nonetheless being used like this. The two males speed up with their tandem rhythm, your mouth parting for Soonyoung to slide through your lips. He hisses, petting you and making sure to get a close up of your face. Jihoon looks up. 

“You need to see this,” he says simply and Soonyoung’s handing the camera over, pressing it close enough so that it can capture you taking two dicks. Next time, if there was a next time, you’d take two in the same hole, maybe three, but this is just the beginning. 

♡

You cry as they pound away, skin hitting skin and balls slapping against your pussy. Really—tears blur your vision as Soonyoung fucks up into your mouth as the other two fuck into your lower body. Sandwiched between them, you wonder is your soul really going to leave your body.The level of arousal is high; higher than threesomes with your boyfriends. Adding Seungcheol to the mix just makes it better, and makes your legs more wobbly. 

“Daddy’s good fucking cock slut; your cunt is swallowing my dick whole,”

“Yeah, take this fat cock in this tight little ass,”

You hears the two behind you, smacking her ass with their thrusts. You’re full out sobbing around Soonyoung, who’s balancing the camera but has his head tilted back, moaning relentlessly as he fucks into your hot mouth. You’re overwhelmed, overdoing it to the max but you can care less. Three dicks one girl isn’t as bad as you’d initially thought. You feel a warm sensation behind you as it’s Jihoon who’s rhythm stutters first, yelling out obscenities as Seungcheol follows suit, both pumping your spent body full of their seed. Soonyoung’s hand shoots out, unnanounced, and holds your head down until your nose is flush against his crotch, the coarse hairs at the base tickling your nose as he comes down your throat, holding you there despite your spluttering and choking. The cycle triggers your own orgasm as well, your walls and ass clenching around the two cocks nestled in there, causing the two men to groan. Your vision gets spotty and it takes you weakly whimpering for Soonyoung to seem to remember you’re literally choking most likely and he pulls your head away. You sputter, coughing up semen all over his thighs but he doesn’t care. The four of you catch your breath, the two behind you sliding out slowly. You recover your breathing and rest your head on Soonyoung’s thigh, the blonde stroking your sweaty hair. You’re entirely fucked out at this point, and on the verge of passing out right here and there. Your eyelids flutter, and you fall asleep to the feeling of Soonyoung’s fingers massaging your scalp gently. 

♡

“Go away,” you huff. Jihoon plasters kisses on your face, refusing. 

“Come onnnn. You liked it, y/n,” He tries to cheer you up. But you just curl more into his pillow, hiding your face. Soonyoung grumbles and rolls over, closer to you. At least he didn’t cause your ass and poor vagina to hurt. Jihoon huffs. 

“I’ll buy you some ice cream,” he sing songs. You peep one eye open. 

“What flavor?” you ask, pretending to sound passive. He knows you’re bullshitting. 

“f/n.”

You look at Soonyoung, face all scrunched up cutely, then up at Jihoon who’s got you two caged in. He looks so hopeful, eyes sparkling. You sigh and roll your eyes. 

“Fine. You can fuck my ass next time,” you oblige, earnign a wet kiss on the cheek as he hops off both of you.

“Let me go get my baby that ice cream then,” he calls, grabbing his wallet yet he calls for Seokmin as he waddles out of the doorway. You roll your eyes, but giggle as you feel the blonde pull you closer. 

“What do I have to do to get some ass action?”

You’ve never slapped him across his naked chest so loud, but the cackles prove it didn’t really hurt. 

#choi seungcheol #s.coups #kwon soonyoung #seventeen hoshi #seventeen woozi #lee jihoon #seventeen #seventeen fics #leader line seventeen #change up

[jcwriting-blog]

Chapter Four

BTS Outsiders AU

Word Count: 2.1K

Trigger Warning: _

Previous Chapter < > Next Chapter

Song: Golden by Morning TV

Rose

I picked at the mushy lunch food as I looked around the lunch table. Taehyung and I sat in silence as Jin and Jimin laughed about something dumb one of their friends did.

“Like, really, who the hell does something like that?” Jimin laughed.

“I know, right? That’s what I told him, and he still doesn’t listen.” Jin added.

Jimin laughed, “What do you think, Rose?... Rose?”

I suddenly realized he was talking to me, “Uh… what? Sorry, what were you saying?” I asked.

Jimin smiled compassionately, “I was saying-”

“Hey! Watch it, freak!” Jin shouted.

“Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to!” The girl apologized, walking away quickly.

I looked around Jimin and saw Taehyung’s bag tipped over, with all of the contents spilled out. She probably just kicked it.

“Jin, don’t worry about it. It was an accident.” Taehyung said quietly as he put his stuff back in his bag. I noticed a small box on the floor.

“Tae!” I whispered and gestured to the box. He seemed confused at first but his eyes widened when he saw it, ‘Tape’ he mouthed back.

“Am I missing something here? What’s going on?” Jimin asked.

“Oh, nothing.” I replied a bit too quickly.

“Rose, don’t lie to me, you guys have been acting weird ever since the assembly. What happened that I don’t know about?”

“Jimin, really. It’s nothing. We were just… upset about what happened to Jungkook.” I lied.

“Upset? You barely knew him. Rose, tell me the truth.” Jimin pushed on.

“Listen, if you guys are gonna have one of your couple fights, do it out in the hall.” Jin interrupted.

I sighed and took Jimin’s hand. I led him out to the hallway, I turned around to see Taehyung nod at me. I knew I had to tell him.

“Okay, now that we’re out here, what’s going on?” Jimin asked impatiently.

“Look, Jimin, I-”

“Are you cheating on me with Tae?” Jimin asked quickly with tears in his eyes.

“What? No! Oh my god, no, no no! Never!” I assured him. He quickly got over it  sighed in relief, “Okay, then what?”

“The other day, when Tae was at his locker, he found a tape.” “A tape?” Jimin repeated.

“Yes, a tape. When we played it back, it was a video of Jungkook, the day he died.”

“No way.” Jimin said, wide eyed, “Did it show…?”

“Yeah, um… listen, you have to promise me to not tell anyone about this.”

“I swear on my life.” He promised quietly as he took my hand.

“Okay... Jungkook didn’t commit suicide. Someone killed him. They made him drop the camera, and right before they shot him, they filmed his body and the message.”

“Just like what my dad said… What did the message say?” He asked hesitantly.

“It said ‘I’m sorry’. I’m not sure if they were trying to frame his suicide or if the murderer himself meant it.”

“Why would he be sorry? If he didn’t want to kill Jungkook, why didn’t he just… not kill him?”

“Jimin, I don’t know. Before he attacked him, Jungkook said hi to him, and he talked to him like they were friends. But the tape cut out any parts where he would’ve responded.”

“This is way too sketchy… Does anyone else know besides you and Tae?” Jimin asked.

“Um, yeah. You can’t tell Jin, he’ll kill us, but we went to this Greaser’s house.” “Wait, you what?” Jimin asked with a hint of anger in his voice.

“Yeah, his name is Namjoon. He knew Jungkook. I’m not sure what he can do with the tapes, but he might be able to help.” I explained hesitantly.

“Tapes? You mean there’s more?”

“Tae just found one in his bag, when it was tipped over just now. We’ll probably bring it to Namjoon after school and watch it.”

Jimin stayed quiet for a moment, “I want to come with.”

“What? No you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. You don’t know this Namjoon guy. He could be some sort of escaped convict or something!”

“I’m pretty sure he isn’t an escaped convict. Jimin, he’s chill and from what I’ve seen of him, he isn’t looking for trouble with us Socs.”

Jimin looked around, and looked back into the cafeteria. I saw Jin smile and wink at us and turn to say something to Tae. Jimin sighed, “Fine, but I still want to come with.”

I drove up to Namjoon house slowly, checking to see if anymore cars were here. I didn’t see any other than the one parked lazily next to the entrance.

“So… What’s this guy like?” Jimin asked, “Is there anything I should know before we go in there, guns blazing?”

“‘Guns blazing’? Really Jimin? We’re just gonna go in there, watch the tape, and see if he can do anything with it.” Taehyung explained.

“Why would he know what to do? Shouldn’t we just bring it to the police? You know my dad’s a cop, maybe he can help if I-”

“No, Jimin! You don’t get it, the cops already looked for signs and clues of a murderer, they found nothing! If we gave them these it would make us look like we were the ones that did it anyways.” I told him.

“Okay, yeah… Let’s just go in already.”

As we walked up to the door we could hear people talking and laughing from inside the house. I peeked through the window and saw the people from the other day inside the kitchen talking. I couldn’t remember their names exactly… Mary and something that started with an H?

“Oh shit, Marie and Hoseok are here, maybe it’s best if we come back later.” Taehyung stepped back.

“Too late.” Jimin said as he knocked on the door. I could see Marie turn around and go to answer the door.

“Um… hello? Is there something you guys need?” She asked awkwardly.

“Yeah, is Namjoon here?” Jimin asked confidently. Hoseok eyed him suspiciously, “Lemme go check.” He said as he walked to some room in the house.

“So who’s this one?” Marie asked, gesturing to Jimin. Before Taehyung or I could say anything, Jimin introduced himself.

“Hello, I’m Jimin Park. Rose’s boyfriend. Who are you?” He asked in a tone that sounded more like an insult than a question.

“I’m Marie. That’s all you need to know.” She glared at him. Hoseok came back with Namjoon, who’s eyes widened when he noticed us.

“You’re back! Did you find another…?”

“Yeah, we haven’t watched it yet. I found it in my bag today during lunch.” Taehyung explained.

“So it clearly isn’t a mistake that you’re getting these tapes… But who’s putting them there?” Namjoon wondered.

“Maybe someone saw the murderer kill Jungkook.” Marie suggested.

“Or maybe it’s the murderer himself that’s been planting the tapes.” Jimin said.

“I kind of doubt it.” Hoseok replied.

“Let’s just watch the tape already!” Taehyung shouted as he took out the camcorder.

“Turn that damn thing off!” Someone laughed behind a black screen. A hand moved away and it revealed a smiling Hoseok looking at whoever was behind the camera. They were sitting at a diner, a soft chatter in the filling background sound.

“Oh come on, you love the attention.” The person behind the camera said, most likely Jungkook.

Hoseok shook his head, “You’re not wrong.”

“Hey, hey, hey! Look at what we got here!” A deep voice boomed off camera. Hoseok looked up with a dark expression.

“Mind your own damn business, we haven’t done nothing.” Hoseok growled.

“Sorry buddy, but I ain’t scared of a couple o’ Greasers.” The man threatened. Hoseok kept staring at him intensely.

The camera started shaking, “What’s this little toy you got here?” The voice asked, “Hey! That’s not yours- let it go!” Jungkook shouted. The camera was pulled back and forth before it was raised into the air with a ‘thump’ sound.

“Not so tough, are ya, little guy?”

The camera was panned at the tiled ground, and a few small feet walked up to whoever was holding the camera, “Is that your camera, young man?” An older woman’s voice asked.

“Um, ma’am, I-” He stuttered.

“Give the boy back his camera, or I’ll kick you and your friends out right this minute.” She scolded him.

“Alright, ma’am, It won’t be a problem again.” He set the camera down, which showed half of Hoseok’s face. He was serious, yet looked surprised, as if no one had ever done this for them before.

Soft footsteps walked away, but Hoseok still looked serious. A chorus of conversations grew louder, it sounded like teenage boys.

“Henry! These guys giving you any trouble?” One asked.

“Nah. Let’s just get out of here.” He answered.

The group of boys left, and while Hoseok’s serious and hardened look faded, a more angry one took its place.

“Those bastards, I’d like to see them actually own up to anything their dumbasses get them into.” Hoseok commented under his breath.

“Yeah, it was kind of pathetic to see how easily he gave up when that lady showed up.” Jungkook agreed.

“Hey, if they ever mess with you like that and I’m not around, tell me. I’ll kill them if that’s what it takes.” Hoseok threatened.

Jungkook laughed nervously, “I don’t think you need to go that far, but a good spook wouldn’t hurt.” “I just don’t want them picking on you like that, Kook.”

“Thanks, Hobi.”

I looked up and saw that Hoseok had tears in his eyes.

“Why would someone…?” Taehyung trailed off.

“I think they’re setting up something bigger. This definitely isn’t the last tape.” Namjoon said.

I noticed that Marie had stood up with Hoseok and gone to the kitchen. He was crying silently as she was saying something to him that I couldn’t hear.

Marie

“Hoseok…” I looked up to see Hoseok leaning against the kitchen counter, him covering his face with one of his hands.

“This tape must’ve meant a lot to you.”

“No kidding.” He answered sharply, peering up from his covered tear stained face and looked at me into my eyes.

“I… I miss him.” Hoseok confessed, fiddling with one of the silverware he found nearby.

I grabbed the spoon he was holding and put it aside. “We all miss him, Hoseok.”  

“You don’t-” He was interrupted by some murmuring coming from the living room. “You just don’t understand how I feel.”

“Hobi, what do I not understand about it? That Kookie was murdered and someone involved with this mess is sending some Soc that we don’t even know tapes? Of course I understand how you are feeling.” I remarked. “Jungkook was our family. I even considered him a little brother.”

“I think we all did.”

“Also… “ I pondered for a bit, trying to change the subject. “Maybe we should go back in the living room and invite Taehyung and Rose for dinner.”

“Yes! I mean yeah, why not.”

 “I never realized I missed him so much.” I remarked, before walking back into the living room. I glanced at an old picture of Jungkook on Namjoon’s fridge. He was about eight then, playing in one of the sand hills by his old house. He was so happy and full of life. Suddenly I came to realization that that was the same boy that was shot not too long ago.

“He was murdered, Hoseok.”

We all sat at the dinner table facing one another uncomfortably. Uncoincidentally all the Socs sat on one side and Hoseok and I sat at the other. Namjoon sighed as he set down the pot of spaghetti.

“What do guys want to drink? There’s not many options…” He ran over to check the fridge. “We got water and a pack of SD.”  

As Namjoon mentioned the soda ‘SD’, Hoseok tensed up. “Uh I’ll have an SD.”

“I’ll have one too,” Jimin added.

I glanced at Hoseok. His eyes were shifted onto one of the SD cans inside the living room. “Make that three.”

“Could we both get water?” Rose insisted.

“On it!” Namjoon chimed in with the armful of beverages. As he set down Hoseok’s SD, he shifted in his seat. He murmured something underneath his breath that sounded something like ‘I can’t take this’ or ‘I can’t do this anymore’. Whatever he had whispered sounded concerning.

Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by him bolting out of his chair and into the bathroom.

“Uh he must’ve really had to go then.” Jimin remarked.

“Really Jimin?” Taehyung and Rose said simultaneously.

Ignoring their retorts to one another I looked back at the bathroom door. It felt as if he was scared of the drink. Why would anyone be that terrified of SD?

#bts #bangtan seonyeondan #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts outsiders au #outsiders #outsiders au #socs #greasers #the outsiders #jin #kim seokjin #yoongi #min yoongi #suga #rm #namjoon #kim namjoon #hoseok #jung hoseok #jhope #jimin #park jimin #taehyung #kim taehyung #jungkook #v #jeon jungkook

[junker-town]

The NBA’s HORSE competitors, ranked by internet quality

Nobody’s was great!

NBA and WNBA players, along with ESPN, tried really hard to give us some new sports to talk about while the world remains in quarantine due to the spread of Covid-19. They really did. But a pre-recorded game of HORSE was really, really tough to watch.

HORSE in general isn’t too exciting. To make matters worse, the quality of the broadcast was horrendous. The videos lagged due to internet cutouts and shook because of the wind on the outdoor courts. Of course, that’s to be expected as nobody was prepared for a situation like this. It’s nobody’s fault.

But hell, it was funny.

Here are the eight HORSE competitors, ranked by quality of internet.

8. Trae Young

Young filmed himself with a potato. There’s no other way to describe it. The camera lagged and the wind rattled in each frame. Was he on a sidekick 3? I have no idea.

Please get better internet, Trae.

.@1MrBigShot beats @TheTraeYoung in the first round of the NBA HORSE Challenge after Trae initially built a 3-0 lead. pic.twitter.com/3CJQgpbBnq

— ESPN (@espn) April 12, 2020

Did I mention he also blew a 3-0 letter lead?

trae young blows 3-0 lead in horse tournament, loses to chauncey billups in opening round (very serious tweet) pic.twitter.com/kBIIfTtnt7

— SB Nation (@SBNation) April 12, 2020

Twitter was relentless:

Trae young when he hits a deep 3 in HORSE pic.twitter.com/inUZCxpIc2

— fucksallad (@fucksallad) April 12, 2020

Trae Young being filmed rn like: pic.twitter.com/Usqb3ZyxW0

— Samuel Shin (@shinsanityyyy) April 12, 2020

This is what Trae Young’s camera man is using pic.twitter.com/t1mvrUkiMA

— Charles Dickey (@stickydickey1) April 12, 2020

Nobody: Trae Young’s camera: pic.twitter.com/rQ96E5nU6v

— Josh (@PrimeBDN) April 12, 2020

7. Tamika Catchings

Catchings was shooting out in the wind on a cold Indiana day, so that camera was WHIPPING. She propped it up on a ladder, and it was not great.

Tamika Catchings looks back at growing up with Kobe Bryant in Italy and how their paths had crossed since. @espnW pic.twitter.com/6Nf3CyhAbX

— ESPN (@espn) April 13, 2020

6. Chauncey Billups

Lag city! Billups had the benefit of being the better half against Young at least.

NBA HORSE Challenge @1MrBigShot completes his opening-round comeback in the NBA Horse Challenge on ESPN! pic.twitter.com/A3JRRVIo1l

— NBA (@NBA) April 12, 2020

5. Paul Pierce

Pierce’s stream wasn’t anything special, but he didn’t come out with a camcorder or like binoculars, and he didn’t make a dad joke? So that’s a win. We’ll give him fifth.

the best part of HORSE has been watching the kid behind paul pierce spin to the point of stumbling pic.twitter.com/2nje7tVu1f

— Ashley Young (@young_ashleye) April 13, 2020

4. Chris Paul

Paul had his son, Chris Jr., out to do interviews and even shared an AirPod with him. That’s high-tech for dads! He had two cameras working, too.

NBA HORSE Challenge Clever shot by @CP3 to stay afloat in Round 1! NBA Horse Challenge presented by State Farm pic.twitter.com/6XqNDMYYnE

— NBA (@NBA) April 13, 2020

3. Zach LaVine

LaVine had a steady stream, and a partner to record closer to the rim to prove he touched the rim on trick shots. It was pretty smooth!

NBA HORSE Challenge "Tap the backboard with the left... reverse on the right!"@ZachLaVine leads @paulpierce34 in Round 1 of the NBA Horse Challenge presented by State Farm! pic.twitter.com/shiBmGyunK

— NBA (@NBA) April 13, 2020

2. Allie Quigley

Quigley had her wife and fellow All-Star Chicago Sky guard, Courtney Vandersloot, shooting on a second camera, to give another angle. Genius. Excellent marital and basketball chemistry.

We thank you, Sloot.

NBA HORSE Challenge @alliequigley knocks down the Pistol Pete Maravich homage‼️ She leads @CP3 H-O to H in Round 1 of the NBA Horse Challenge presented by State Farm on ESPN. pic.twitter.com/TDnnPFqTRN

— NBA (@NBA) April 13, 2020

1. Mike Conley

Conley cheated, I swear. He was the only player to shoot INDOORS! What a ridiculous advantage both in the shooting competition, and internet competition.

NBA HORSE Challenge @MCONLEY10 closes out his Round 1 victory! NBA Horse Challenge presented by State Farm on ESPN pic.twitter.com/xuCROspm2b

— NBA (@NBA) April 13, 2020

[daesungindistress]

i think most of the happy moments in dday are flashbacks? like they were a happy couple being all cutesy with each other (im only slightly jealous, i swear!) but dae started flirting around with the other girl. they break up and she loses her desire to film anything (the fishtank scene) and he realized he screwed up. notice he's in the area with the giant heart while he's lying on his back but it's gloomy and dark looking without her. the music video is bright and happy bc they're together again

Maybe! I wouldn’t rule anything out. I can totally see that being it. :)

Honestly though, here’s what I think, having seen the video a few times…

I like to see it as a story of Daesung recovering from the heartbreak of a bad breakup with the help of the girl we see throughout most of the video. Along the way the focus is mostly on her; it isn’t until the end that we understand it was really about him. It’s a gradual process. The heart needs time to heal. For most of the video they’re just friends because it’s all Daesung can handle. He isn’t ready to love again, not yet.

Meanwhile, we see the girl pining for him, hoping that one day he’ll recognize her for what she is: exactly what he needs. She is there for him through it all with patience and kindness– and let’s not forget that camcorder, archiving the early stages of their non-relationship in grainy images. They spend time together doing all kinds of couple-y things, all without actually being a couple. Daesung doesn’t realize how his time with her mends his fractured heart. Or he does, but doesn’t acknowledge it. And all the while, the girl wonders how long she can keep this up, this facade of just friendship. It may be helping him, but it’s hurting her. Doubt creeps in and she wonders, Is it worth it? Is he worth it?

When we see Daesung lying there on the floor, seemingly lost in thought, he’s reliving the memory of that traumatic breakup with his past girlfriend (it’s not the same girl). The last time he opened up his heart to another… and it had been damaged beyond repair.

…Or so he thought. He picks himself up off the floor and runs out the door. He’s decided that it’s time– time for him to try again, time to revisit those feelings he had pushed down and locked away to avoid being hurt by them a second time. He’d be a fool to let this opportunity pass him by, this person who brings light and warmth and vitality back into his life, things he feared he’d lost forever.

A melody he thought he’d forgotten comes rushing back to him, as dazzling as if he was hearing it for the first time. He remembers how to love. He finds the girl waiting for him as she always has and embraces her– and with her, the determination that he doesn’t have to hurt or hesitate anymore. The time for “them” has come. The countdown is complete. Today and every day ahead of them is a new day. It’s D-Day.

Lyrics from the song include:

I won’t hesitate anymore because I have you (this line is seen at video’s end)You have repainted everythingMy life begins nowToday is D-Day!

Just my two cents~ You all know I love words, but in truth my absolute favorite stories are those told without.

#ask #anon #daesung #d-lite #d-day #interpretation is its own reward #or something #I mean I could be wrong...

[ghostly-gala1]

ONE

Markus Romano ran through the halls of an old house, panting as he did so, as he came to the front door. He went to open it but it wouldn’t budge. The door was locked. He cursed under his breathe as looked around for a place to hide, only seeing an open foyer with nowhere to run or hide. Then he noticed the mirror, making him sigh with relief as he ran up to the object in question, and hid behind it, as a neon green glow flew across the sheet covering the mirror, and then disappearing out of sight. Markus looked from around the mirror, and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that whatever was chasing him was gone. He walked around the mirror, and pulled out his phone to text his little brother (by a year) a third time, when he heard the sheet fall off the mirror, making him look over, only to see floating glowing green eyes of a human man look right at him. He then made his body appear before Markus and aimed his hand at him, making a swirl of green energy form around the young Italian and his ghost pale hand. “Whoa! Hey!” Markus called out but it was in vein, as the man shot his hand to the mirror, dragging Markus to said item, and phasing him through the glass, as his phone fell to the floor near the mirror, but thankfully, it was off to the side of the mirror, so the wicked man didn’t see it fall. Green energy swarmed around the mirror as the man laughed evilly and vanished from Markus’ line of sight. Markus pounded on the glass from the other side trying to break free, but couldn’t find the means of doing so, as the sheet reappeared on the mirror, covering up the man’s latest piece of artwork, as his phone vibrated on the floor, with the caller ID saying: ‘Mammina.’

A young brown haired girl was leaning up against the wall of a modern, and decent sized house that had a dark brown (almost looked red) roof with pine green shudders and front door. The tiling was pure white, which meant they washed it on a regular basis.     The young girl was no more than 18 years old. She, obviously, had brown, naturally wavy hair, gorgeous ocean green-blue eyes, and fair, pale white skin. She seemed to have loved the color red, even though she always told her best friend she liked green. She was a Christmas tree really, with liking red and green. She never wore both at the same time, but she did wear them both. Red one day, green the next. So, she had variety. Sometimes she wore red more than green, however. And that made sense, since her name meant the color red. If you looked closely at her neck, you’d see a silver chained necklace around it, with the name 'Crimson’ in the center of it.     “Come on, laddie!” She said as she checked the time on her Apple iPhone 7. It was later than she thought. Like, 4:15pm late. The park was going to close soon, and she really wanted to go look at the pond with her best friend, whom she was waiting for. “You said you’d be right out!” She complained some more. “Ciao mammina!” A young male called out to the living room as he scurried down the stairs inside his house. “Bye mamma!”     “Wait, there, Logan!” His mom called to him back as he grabbed his ball cap.   “Mammina!” He said annoyed. Even though he was like, 19, he still had an attitude sometimes. “Crimson’s waiting outside right as we speak!”     “I know, sweetie. But I need you to try calling your fratello.” His mom said. “He’s not answering for me.”     “Alright.” Logan said as he took out his iPhone from his back pocket and dialed his brother’s number before putting it towards his ear. “Come on, fratello! Answer the phone!”     “Hi, you’ve reached Markus Romano’s phone…” The voice mail kicked in, which made Logan hang up and look at his mom.     “He didn’t answer for me either. He…normally does.” He said sounding worried now.     “Yeah…I’m worried. What if he’s hurt!?” His mom exclaimed out of fear.     “Relax, mammina! I’ll go look for him. I’m sure he’s not far.” Logan said smiling before grabbing his car keys, and heading for the front door.     “Grazie, Logan.” His mom called before they waved goodbye to each other, and he left the house.     “It’s about time you got out of there.” Crimson said as she pushed herself off the wall of the house.     “You don’t mind helping me find Markus, do you?” Logan teased her with a smirk, making Crimson just roll her eyes at him before they headed to his blue colored Honda Accord in the driveway.     “No, not at all.” Crimson said smiling, as Logan got in the driver seat of his car, while Crimson got in the passenger side seat. The young 19 year old man started up the car and pulled out of the driveway, before going into drive and driving down the road wth Mrs. Romano watching from the doorway.     “Be careful, mio figlio.”

“Someone, help!” Markus yelled as he was banging on the glass to get out. The sheet still covering him from view. It was futile to say the least to be able to get help. No one knew he was here in the house, except for Logan. But who knew if he’d come to his rescue or not! After all, he was going to be busy at the park with Crimson Cambridge, the best singer he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. So there was a chance that he didn’t even bother looking through the texts until he was free tonight. “Face it, kid!” The same sinister and masculine voice spoke up, making Markus’ skin crawl at how evil it sounded. “No one can hear you!” “Shut up!” Markus yelled with a shaking voice, which made the most evil of laughs enter his ear drums. “See you around, Romano.” The voice said before a dull quiet took place, and Markus just stood there, alone and cold inside his mirror prison. Logan, if you are on your way…please… Markus was brought out of his thoughts as he heard a crash come from outside. He jolted at the sound of metal bending and a branch falling down with a big thud to the dirt floor outside.

“So, why do we have to go look for Markus?” Crimson asked as she was playing with Logan’s digital camcorder. “He’s not answering his phone. My mammina tried a boat load of times, but couldn’t get through.” Logan answered as he was smirking from the driver seat, and turned down a side street towards the woods at the park. At least Crimson got to go to the park tonight. But she really wasn’t paying attention to the scenery. “Come on, Crim! Give us a little taste!” Logan was saying from the other side of the camera. 17 year old Crimson was trying to look away from the camera since he had it almost right in her face.     “Get that out of my face, Logan!” Crimson yelled with a small laugh as she ran towards the living room, only to have Logan running after her. You could hear Markus laughing in the background as Logan dropped the camera on the couch, in just the right spot for it to still be recording the two of them, with Crimson just out of reach when Logan grabbed her by the waste, making her laugh some more, with Logan doing the same.     They looked at each other for a while, before he released her and ran back to his camera, picking it up. He faced the lens towards her again which made her groan with a small giggle as she sat down by the Christmas tree.     “Come on, Crimson! Just a little? Please?” Logan begged as his mother was laughing in the background as well.     “Alright, fine!” She finally said as she cleared her throat and got ready. “Oh, holy night/the stars are brightly shinning/it is the night/of our dear Savior’s birth…” She began to sing with a voice of an angel, and the pride of a star. Even if she hated being filmed while she was singing, it was Logan…her best friend.     Crimson pressed stop on the video before turning off the camera and then setting it down back down in the backseat. She looked out the window, seeing the trees pass her by, and the road turn into a dirt path for the woods. “Why would Markus be out here?”     “He likes to hike out here sometimes. He told me earlier he was going to.” Logan answered before noticing his brother’s car in the parking lot of the dirt path. “See?”     “I see that, Detective Romano.” Crimson said sarcastically, making both friends laugh before hearing Logan’s phone ding.     “Can you get that for me?” He asked as Crimson already had his phone in her hot little hand. He chuckled at her quick reflexes as he started looking back on the road, while Crimson just opened up his phone.     “You really need to change your passcode, dude.” She said smiling as she went to his texts. “I mean, really? Why you’re birthday!?”     “It’s easy to remember!” Logan yelled before hearing it go quiet with his friend. “Crim, something wrong?”     “Yeah. You just have a lot of texts from Markus here.” She answered as she opened up Markus’ file of texts. “L, I’m at the woods in the park. Have fun hanging out with Crimson.” She read one.     “That’s from earlier.” He said.     “Dude, I found this wicked house out this way. You have to check it out!” And with this one she read, she gasped with excitement. “OOOH! This looks cool!” She exclaimed as she enlarged the picture to show Logan. He stopped to be safe as he looked at the photo. The house looked old, and it looked more like a freaking mansion than an house. It looked dark, like no one had taken care of it in years and some windows looked like they had been smashed, while others just looked tinted.     “I swear I could make a sick ass music video in this house!” Crimson stated as she pulled the phone back to her face and went back to the texts, while Logan chuckled and began to drive again.     “What else is there?” He asked, smiling at his friend’s antics.     “Dude, I’m in the house, and it sounds like…” Crimson began, before she stopped, gulped, and finished sounding scared. “…like someone is in here with me.”     “The house looks abandoned! Who would be in there?!”     “Besides your stupid brother? Beats me.” Crimson continued as she scrolled down, only to see there is one left. “Oh, my…L…” She began, as she showed him the last text. He looked at it, and seeing what it said, kind of freaked him out: 'Logan…HELP!’     “LOGAN, WATCH OUT!” Crimson screamed as he looked up to see a dear in the middle of the path. He quickly turned his wheel to the side, making the car spin out of control, and then go smashing into a tree, as their vision went black.

#Ghost #paranormal #romance