as a procrastinating overachiever i feel like i don’t necessarily “half-ass” things, it’s more like a “3/4 ass”. like overall did i do pretty well? yeah. did i reach my maximum potential though? i think the fuck Not.
A/N: Send me an ask if you would like a part two because quite honestly i find the ending quite unsatisfying but I have not the time nor the energy to continue without some kind of inspiration. I can’t write in different styles these days, please forgive me haha enjoy, I'm sorry i have had no time and i always write about cafes lmao sorry idk if it even fits his character, it doesn't but maybe thats ok.
Ethereal. I’ve never seen someone so perfect, I’ve sat here staring for a while now, I don’t know when he’ll notice. It’s not always the kind of beauty or handsomeness that you notice right when you meet someone, it’s the build-up, when you step back and look at someone and realize how much they glow, how their laugh brings so much joy to your heart you think it might burst, how the sun hits them so perfectly but the cloudy weather makes their cheeks and nose dust with a light shade of rosy pink. It’s those things that you learn to love about a person, the things that consume your mind at all hours.
Too bad he’s a total dick.
It was a dreary Monday morning, the depressing drizzle of rain sprinkled the sidewalk as passersby walked at a quick pace, picking up their feet and setting off with purpose. But then this one guy walks by. Dragging his feet, little drops of rain hitting his head as he walked casually. He walked with a slight joy and his face spoke of both carelessness and optimism, the kind of aloof idiot who pushes his problems away and parties every weekend, coming into shifts late but receiving full pay, enough to pay the rent for his studio apartment, messy with clothes all over the floor. The kind who can’t cook but will always try. The one who is too loud all the damn time and never shuts his fucking mouth, the one who people know as the one who has gotten kicked out of every restaurant within a five-mile radius of his own apartment.
But just as he returns the glance, the moment passes and he carries on his walking, nonchalantly, to an unknown destination. Too bad that destination was right next to you.
He stepped into the cafe, the bell at the top ringing, everyone's head turning for a millisecond before they returned to their own personal activities.
He sat his happy ass down right next to you, out of all the stools that were open, facing the window, he sat down in the closest one to your left. You stole a small glance from him out of the corner of your eye before returning your focus to watching the people pass by. The music in your earbuds was loud, but not so loud that it blocked out the surroundings.
With no warning, he grabs one of the earbuds out of your ear and put it in his own. At this point, he already feels like a familiar friend, an obnoxious one at that
“This song is shit!” He says to you, voice low and raspy, the insult flowing carefully through the air.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” You responded sarcastically.
“Damn, roasted.” He took the earbud out of his ear and carefully placed it closer to you.
Unfortunately, an eye roll was not enough to deflect this specific stranger. He scooted closer to you, tilting his head at the exact angle your head was tilted at.
“Why would you be starting so intently at something that isn't even there?” He asked quizzically, displeased and unamused with you.
“What, one can’t stare into the distance without a purpose? You clearly have never understood the concept of drama and the indication of pain and sadness that comes with such a harsh gaze into nothing.” You took a small sip of coffee, placing the cup down with a clank on the wooden bar table, some of the coffee sloshing out of the cup and dropping onto the table.
“No, I have not. So tell me, mistress, what pain and sadness plague your ever so aching heart?” He said mockingly, over exaggerating every movement of his arms as he spoke.
“Absolutely none my dear, I am perfectly content with my life at the moment.”
“What a compelling statement.”
“How is that?”
“Well your surface contentment gives me a sort of temptation to cause some sort of disturbance in your life,” This was said with a childish smile, a glint in his eye. “Because you see, being content with your current living situation is not ideal. Merely satisfactory. Not excellent or mind-blowing amazingness. No. Satisfactory and contentment. And my dear stranger, it is now my goal to stir up your life. You have no choice in this matter and should you try and escape me, I’m sure that I’ll be able to find you somewhere on this baron and desolate Earth.”
“Well, what if I dye my hair a vastly different color, got plastic surgery, gave all my money to charity and then became a recluse living deep within the Himalayan mountains?”
“Well, then I guess I would be….” He paused (for effect) and then spoke. “quite fucked.”
“So tell me then, stranger how do you plan to disorganize my satisfactory life?”
“Do you like to party?”
“Not particularly, but I take it you like to?”
“No, not at all.”
“Really? What a surprise.”
“Yes. Anyway, this is unavoidable. Here is my number, you will not know my name until we go to a very specific coffee shop at the north side of the city and I will buy both of us two very specific drinks.” He says loudly and clearly as he scribbles down on the napkin that is sitting on your splattered coffee. And with this flurry of words, he walks out the door, leaving you with nothing but a jumble of spinning words and the clang of the door closing.
You make sure you input your number in your phone and save the contact name as ‘stranger.’
You are a regular at this coffee shop and so every day your return to your usual spot, gazing out the window. The stranger walked past you from time to time and gives you a large and boxy smile before continuing on his steady path. But the next time it pours rain, he veers into the coffee shop and the same ring of the bell sounds when he walks in and you pretend like you don’t know he’s standing behind you.
“My dear, I am taking you to this very specific coffee shop on the north side of the city and get us those very specific drinks.” He takes your hand off the counter, grabbing your bag before helping you up.
And you go with him.
You stepped into his car, and old gray BMW, stepping in and soaking the floor of the passenger seat in water, rain pouring in before you quickly shut the door, muttering a quick apology with him muttering ‘it’s fine’ back to you. Wait. Shit….I’m in a strangers car. If someone needs to find who was with me I never knew his name….it would be so easy for him to kill me right now..fuck You think to yourself anxiously, staring out the window and watching the raindrops collect in large portions on the glass before speeding down the smooth surface. As you become more aware of the surroundings you see him get on the south freeway.
“I thought this was a very specific coffee shop on the north side of the city?” You questioned.
“It is actually a Starbucks on the south side of the city,” He chuckles, eyes still trained on the road in front of him. “But it seemed to be a romantic thing to say you know? To not have you know my name until we reach a beautifully unique location. My name is Taehyung, nice to meet you, and I’m not a romantic person.” He smiled at you, looking at you briefly before returning his head to the wheel. “As a short summary of me as a person, I’m an idiot who pushes his problems away and parties every weekend even though I really don’t enjoy it sometimes, I come into shifts late at work but for some demented reason I always get full pay, enough to pay the rent for my messy ass studio apartment. I can’t cook but I always try and end up almost burning down the apartment in the process. I’m loud all the damn time and I never shut my fucking mouth and we can never go on dates to restaurants close to my apartment because I’ve been kicked out of them all since my friends and I are quite rambunctious.” I knew it you thought as you still watched out the car window, not making eye contact with Taehyung.
“You’re a little bit foolish, getting into an unknown strangers car, that isn’t even something I would do,” He chuckled deeply, still not taking his eyes off the road as he pulled into a parking lot and parked his car directly in front of an empty Starbucks. “I like this Starbucks because nobody ever comes here, it’s almost always empty and I can never figure out why. It might be because the workers here are kinda rude as fuck but I don’t really mind it. I just want my coffee, you know?”
“Yeah.” The pitter-patter of the rain was more interesting than the sound of his voice. Or that was the lie you told yourself.
The two of you silently got out of the car and walked into the abandoned Starbucks, doing your best not to be drenched but ultimately failing.
“What do you want?” He asked once you arrived, sitting down at the bar by the window, facing the street. This particular Starbucks was kind of tucked away beneath the freeway, so the speeding of cars was the only ‘coffee shop music’ playing in the background. Which is too bad because you thought jazz would be perfect for the setting.
“Just a hot chocolate.” You said simply, turning back to face the window again and pulling out your phone from your front pocket. I swear to fucking god, the next clickbait makeup video I see on Instagram I’m deactivating my account. One scroll down and there was some girl with extensions lighting a foundation stick on fire.
Taehyung arrives with your hot chocolate in one hand and his own coffee in the other. He sat down next to you, placing the cup roughly down on the table, creating a loud tap on the table.
“Tell me about yourself.” He said, placing his feet on the bar that was below your stool, turning his body completely to face you. You didn’t turn to look at him when you spoke.
“Well if we’re going, to put it bluntly, I'm incredibly boring. My life isn’t really the inserting but I don’t find it a bad thing to be mundane.”
“Well, unfortunately, I do.”
“That's just too fucking bad then, isn't it?”
“Ouch.”
“Anyway,” You took a sip from your cup. The hot chocolate burned like a motherfucker but you didn’t say anything and continued to talk as if you couldn’t feel your taste buds crying out in pain as they were viciously attacked with hot liquid. “I live up by the coffee shop we met at. Top floor apartment but not much of a view to be honest.”
“I live on the second floor in a five-floor apartment. My upstairs neighbor is an aerobics and dance instructor who teaches out of their house. I win.”
“Was this a competition?”
“I thought I established that.”
“This banter is nice, are you free next Sunday?” He asked as he turned to face the window.
“Why yes, I am.”
“Nice, I have something to show you.”
“I’d appreciate it if you gave me a little more details. I’ve been nearly blindingly trusting you with little to no information about where I’m going wherever we go together, this is the least you could do.”
“Actually no, the least I could do is what I’m going to do, which is tell you exactly nothing and give you an address and just hope you like me enough to show up.” He stood up and led you out the door.
He blasted music as he dropped you off at your apartment and kissed you on the cheek as you got out.
In a decision you could only explain as ‘extreme stupidity’ you did, in fact, meet Taehyung at the address he sent you, seeing him standing in front of the door holding a key and two construction masks.
“What are we going to do, rob a house that you’re supposed to be house sitting?” You questioned as you stepped out of the car and onto the grass before the sidewalk.
“Actually no, I have a key to something cool and I think we should go see it. When I said I wanted to show you something it might have sounded like I was familiar with what I was going to show you but I’m not.”
“I’ve learned not to assume things of you by now.”
So recently, I got calls from the phone number, (937) 353-8319. They claim to be a job service, and one of their “employees”, Carrigan, is friends with whoever the call recipient is, and that Carrigan has recommended you for this $15.00/h “job”. I also got a text message from (937) 607-1493, claiming to be Carrigan, and that they need stuff to “win a scholarship”. I do not know anyone by the name of Carrigan and I know very well that this is a very dangerous scam.
If you receive a call from a number, and they ask you if you would like a job for $15.00/h, HANG UP IMMEDIATELY. If you accept the “job” offer, and you go in for an interview, they will give you a drugged bottle of water and you will wake up somewhere you don’t want to be.
These phone calls & texts are from a human trafficking service, and if you oblige to them, you will be sold to people and you will be raped, no doubt about it. So PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT ANSWER THESE CALLS OR TEXTS. I have listened to the voicemails, and allowed my dad to do the same, and he learned that anyone offering a $15.00/h “job” is a human trafficker.
PLEASE SIGNAL BOOST THIS ALL OVER TUMBLR
Okay, I am reblogging this because it is relevant again. I got another call from a 353 number. Not the exact same number, but I know that it is a trafficker because it’s 353 just like the last one. I also want this to signal boost so PLEASE REBLOG THIS.
a side note, because theyre very popular around the DMV, If you ever see a sign with something akin to ‘free debt erasure’ ‘15/h job’ etc and ONLY A PHONE NUMBER, ignore it. tear it down if you can, because those are well known scams and sex-trafficking baits.do not, by any means, call or respond to these messages. do not let your friends do it. do not.
Oklahoma is one of the worst states as far as human trafficking, so thank y’all so fucking much. That’s literally my life and the lives of everyone I know that y’all just saved. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you
I started following you when you went on hiatus so I wasn’t sure how often you would be on. But I’m so glad I decided to stay cause your writings are worth the wait. :)
thank you so much for supporting me all this time, I’m very glad you stuck around with me and my inconsistent posting! Have a good day/night! <3
“If I have ever laid my eyes on someone and been able to tell you exactly how this would end, I thought it was with him.”
Word Count: 2.48k
Genre: Fluff, Angst
AN:
Hello all, i know i say this every time i post nowadays but I'm rusty so please forgive any errors. I’m having some issues balancing my time so i am deeply sorry if i said i would do anything that i haven’t. Currently I'm having a bit of an existential crisis, though this may not be unusual it just made it very hard to write alone with some criticism of my ability to do anything by someone i hold very dear. with that, i hope you enjoy this. Also I magically shrunk their age differences because I can. Also this is kinda inspired by a song by gnash. Enjoy???
“In this world, there are people who are more fortunate than others. Now, I do not speak of money, there are rich people who do nothing more than wallow in their own misery and misfortune while sitting in a tub of diamonds-“
Staring at a person who was speaking so eloquently yet somehow so scrambled was defiantly a talent you had yet to achieve the mastery of. Min Yoongi, the infamous absent-minded alcoholic who always smelled like soju and cigarettes, was constantly tired and spoke in a very specific manner. A cold and calloused man who everyone knew without knowing anything about him at all. He was fixated on his own mind, he would walk into class just putting out his cigarette, stumbling, then somehow put on a perfectly worded presentation. What an arrogant man. From the moment you looked at him, weeks before the beginning the first semester, you saw everything. The coffee dates, the missed time, the hours spent in the library. This was only bothersome because nothing had happened yet. Frankly, you didn’t think he knew you existed.
As you diverted your attention back to his presentation about the everlasting argument dealing with the correlation between physical and mental wealth, the idea that money brings happiness.
“-I have a very dear friend, a very smart man, very rich as well, Kim Namjoon, who you all may have heard of. If you are a friend or even acquaintance of this man, you know that he is very rich, from the way he walks and carries himself— also the Rolex on his wrist that seems to change with every outfit— you know he is a very physically wealthy man. But, if you are acquainted with my dear friend, you know he is quite miserable. Why? Well, he decided to try and please his parents with getting a very high paying degree which he is currently pursuing. I spend a great deal of time with Namjoon, and he seems to be a person who is truly sad. He gave up his passion for music to please his parents, a fate that seems to be very common for those at this University.” With that, he took a bow, stating a point indirectly and not finishing his thought. You could feel his ego growing from the other side of the room as the applause erupted from the other students. You either loved him or hated him.
“Thank you, Yoongi, that was a very interesting presentation,”” He took another bow and walked past her.
“Is someone smoking?” She said after a confused look crossed her face.
“No miss, my lungs are just an ashtray,” Yoongi said as he sat down with an oddly smug look painted across his face.
As the class continued, you wondered why you could see so much of a future with someone you had barely talked to.
The professor had nothing relevant to say and none of the presentations that followed were quite as interesting and drawing as Yoongi’s had been.
Yoongi certainly didn’t sit close to you so at the end of the class when his small frame had placed itself next to you, you were interested in what it was for.
“Can you come get coffee with me? I need to study for finals and I need my fuel.”
“Uh, sure.” You gathered your possessions and stood up and walked out next to him.
The walk to the on-campus cafe was completely silent and rather uncomfortable, the only sound being the sound of Yoongi’s shoes dragging against the ground as he walked. When you reached the cafe, the air was filled with the noise of bustling students and random names being called as the barista called to give people their drinks as soon as you opened the door. As you walked in and stood in the ten-minute line, Yoongi finally spoke.
“I don’t think university cafes will ever change, the addition of electronics to the school system might have been the only altercation but the sleep deprived, anxious, broke as fuck students will always remain the same.”
“Yes, I do believe there is a set standard.” You replied, fiddling with the strap on your bag as Yoongi bit at the nail on his thumb.
The wait in the line was not as uncomfortable as the walk to the cafe as there was a lot of background noise. When you reached the front of the line he ordered a large Americano and gave you the option to buy anything you’d like because “I kinda dragged you down here and I feel bad about it.”
Once you retrieved your drinks, you sat down at a newly freed table, the male student once tapping away on his laptop got up quickly, looking relatively relieved. You guessed he probably finished an essay.
“So, tell me about yourself Yoongi, I feel like I don't know much about you.”
“Well, I spend the majority of my time alone thinking about my life as I happened to choose all the classes with little to no work involved which has been the greatest blessing. If I’m not alone I’m usually with six idiots I’m almost ashamed to admit to being friends with. They're a childish and deranged gang but I happen to enjoy their company. These people include Kim Namjoon, the person I used as an example during my presentation— he might not be too happy about that but hey, he’s not that happy anyway— Jeon Jungkook, I know you have met him before because he’s the freshman who has had a massive crush on you since early in the semester and he does not shut up about you. Not to say that I mind, you’re a very intriguing person. Anyway, others include Park Jimin, the shy dance major, and Jung Hoseok the loud dance major, Kim Seokjin, the film major with a nice face and puns that make me want to jump into the endless abyss of death and Kim Taehyung, also majoring in film. Quite an odd guy but he makes very good company. I’m a deep thinker and the most quiet out of the group but I can be a very loud and obnoxious person, just you wait.” He finished this with a smile. This was the first time you had ever seen him really smile, and it made your heart melt more than just a little bit.
And so it begins. You put your number on his phone, giving him all the power to make this go wherever he likes it too. To your joy, he texts you no less than thirty minutes after you departed.
He proceeded to invite you out to a party that Jimin and Hoseok were throwing, explaining that it would be mostly dancers there other than his usual posse of friends who attend all the same events. He again, explained to you that he didn’t want to be alone.
It was at this party that you found the real Yoongi, a heavy smoker, and drinker but one who had a high tolerance for alcohol. You sat on the back porch of a random house and told stories, combining a plethora of greek and roman myths together and making the most hilariously offensive story. The way he laughed so loudly when he was alone with you brought you the most incredible feeling, the way he talked with his words so slurred together and somehow with the highest vocabulary was beyond you. His entire personality was a contradiction, he was cold-hearted and somehow the biggest teddy bear you had ever met. Distant and present.
But it is later that same night that you receive a warning from Jimin, the quiet boy approaching you with a posture that was tall but an aura that made it seem as if he wanted to curl into himself until he disappeared.
“Hi.” He said, quietly tapping you on the shoulder and jumping when you turned around to answer him.
“Hey.” You said with two drinks in hand, ready to return to Yoongi on your secluded porch where he had already lit a cigarette. From what you could see he was mesmerized by the rippling of the pool in the light breeze, even though the temperature was nothing short of freezing this time of year, he seemed content in his giant hoodie and jeans.
“Can I talk to you outside?” Jimin asked, not looking you in the eye as you agreed and followed him up the stairs of the house up into a hallway where the bass of the music did obstruct your ability to hear properly.
“Yoongi hyung is a very interesting guy. You don’t know me that well and I don’t know you that well but I do know Yoongi hyung very well. He has his own flaws and he is a bit of a megalomaniac if triggered in that sense. I was against him signing up for a philosophy class because of this but I never expressed this to him. Just, know that he has a tendency to do many things, he can drink a lot but it does cloud his mind from time to time. So be careful with what you invest in him. He has a lot of secrets”
You didn't have much of a reaction to this, his words meeting nearly deaf ears as you thanked him for his advice and walked back down to Yoongi on the freezing porch. He didn’t notice you were there until you had sat down, as he turned he jumped a little.
“Tell something I don’t know about you Yoongi.”
“Well, I think you know almost everything about me, I’m not a very deep person, I just think very deep thoughts.”
“I see.”
The uncomfortable silence wafted through the air with the freezing cold, both your noses were tinted a light shade of pink from the weather and there was a slight buzz of alcohol running through the both of you from the spiked punch. The boom of the music was only slightly audible through the heavy sliding glass door that leads to the patio.
Sometimes it seems that you never get enough time with a person. You spend time with people and it goes so quickly, those people who you meet and talk to for an hour and you feel like you’ve known them for years, Yoongi was this way. He talked to you like an old friend, casual and warm, a familiar sense of home that you couldn't feel with other people. Such a cold guy with a warm center, cold hands warm heart they say. But was his heart really warm?
There was a study date in the winter time that filled the empty libraries with the giggles before shushing of the ever-present librarian, however, the two of you found joy and satisfaction with the look of distaste on her face, it was your special moment.
Memories don’t have to be created in grand places, amusement parks, fancy dinners and grandiose halls of flowers, they can be small moments like making instant ramen at three in the morning hours before finals, the trips to the flower shop to buy a single rose. The days you spent staring at the rain from a random window in one of your dorms, the days spent with the foolish groups of friends you had, laughing late into the night, drunkenly or not.
New years was as beautiful as fireworks and lights and cheap champagne and kissing under a streetlamp the mimicked the moonlight that was masked by smog and smoke.
But something changed shortly after the winter, this cold guy became a little colder with the slightly warmer weather, even with winter coats still on and noses still tinted with a rosy blush. Another conversation with Jimin came late in the spring, he sat you down on the old, tattered leather couch that sat in the middle of the living room in the house the dancers all rented together, a collection of random furniture and plants, it was fainting to see small pieces of people that formed one puzzle, whether it was a mess or not, even if you had to jam the pieces together to fit.
“Yoongi hyung likes to give up on things before they give up on him. He worries about getting too close to people and sometimes he backs out of a relationship in fear of hurting someone he loves, it causes a lot of the relationships in his life to be strained.” Jimin said, anxious with fingers tapping against his jeans, eyes flickering all around the room, scanning various things that were sitting on the floor and hanging on the walls.
You offered a small and awkward “Thank you” before excusing yourself out of the dancers' house and taking your usual walk back to your own dorm.
On a day in the late spring, the weather was a little warmer, the nights were filled with happiness, graduation was soon, relief was sailing through the air with every exit of a building after grades were entered.
You walked with Yoongi through the campus late at night as you usually did, coming to a small bench under a streetlight by some trees he sat down, pulling you with him. Upon sitting down, he gazed at you with slightly glossy eyes, two-way glass that saw everything but let nothing in. An unreadable expression of mixed doubt, fear, exhaust and lastly, love. The flurry of mixed emotions formed this gloss over his deep brown yours, analyzing your features as if it was the last time he would ever see them.
He stood up suddenly, kissing you goodnight before walking off in the direction of his dorm and leaving you to do the same. And you did, you walked back to your dorm, slid the key in the lock, changed into more comfortable attire and went into a blissful sleep, mind filled with dreams of the future, the beautiful future filled with special moments and long nights.
When you woke up your roommate was gone but the door was ajar. Figuring she had just forgotten to shut it all the way you exited your warm cocoon under the blankets and shuffled your way to the door. Upon arriving to said door, you realized a piece of paper was taped to the door, scrawly handwriting, rushed chicken scratch in blue pen signed Yoongi.
I’m sorry okay, I can’t do things like this, it won’t last. This is a final greeting, you will not be hearing from me again. I love you.
Yoongi (5)
Yoongi (7)
Yoongi (3)
Yoongi (10)
Yoongi (2)
Your call has been forwarded to an automated messaging system 212 342 4562 is not available. At the tone please record your message when you are finished recording you may hang up or press one for more options—
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