#FLIES IN 8 YEARS LATE TO ANSWER THIS QUESTION

[cerseiwexler]

For the oc of your choice: 👑 - Person who raised your OC and/or was important during their formative years & 🍑 - Notable flings

i will answer for mae! she’s one of my few who’s ever had a proper Notable Fling tbh.

her parents are artsy types both born and raised in tx — mom in austin, dad in dallas. they met as young hippies at woodstock, where they accidentally conceived mae’s big sister; it was lucky as hell that they were both from the same region, and mae’s dad moved to austin where they got married. it was a really fateful match — they ended up being truly compatible long-term! mae was born 5 years later. mom eventually became a sculptor and dad became a landscape designer who specializes in pretty gardens. they’re pretty good parents — a little freewheeling and unreliable growing up, but always loving and never neglectful, and very supportive into their kids’ grown up lives!

notable fling: tbh i haven’t even decided on a name for him. mae met him the summer before senior year of high school at an acting camp, and spent the year in an infatuated haze wherein they made grand plans to move to hollywood after graduation and get famous. and it looked like those plans were going to pan out! but he backed out last minute, less serious about the whole thing than her. and her reaction to this was feeling bummed that she wasn’t more bummed 💀 it’s not that she hadn’t really loved this guy, but her dreams were so much bigger than him. and it really cemented for her that moving there was the right choice — if it was so easy to leave something that had been considered important to her behind, it just went to show how much more important her career was in comparison.

[thevibraniumveterans]

STAR WARS — The Acolyte

EP 8 — The Acolyte

MAIN THOUGHTS:

I loved this episode, because it leaves us with several more questions, in addition to the ones that have yet to be answered, and also because it results in almost a role reversal for Mae and Osha.

In Episode 5, the Stranger had said to Sol, “I’ve accepted my darkness, what have you done with yours?” Seems like in this episode, Sol has accepted his darkness and his failure.

There are a few familiar lines thrown in for good measure too.

Also, something about killing a Jedi without a weapon? Yeaaaah, about that… Somehow that’s always stuck with me, even though it’s not all that important of a line. Turns out it was pretty important this episode.

And that lightsaber scene? The one that stole this whole episode? You know the one; I thought it was by far the best on-screen visual example of a kyber crystal, and as a result the blade, responding to the owner’s emotions.

Spoilers in my thoughts in my notes below.

- We begin by hearing Osha calming her breathing, just like she did when it left off last episode. From the outside it sounds like pseudo-mechanical breathing, but not on the inside. The Stranger watches from a few feet away, but suddenly Osha gasps, as if something is choking her. She struggles to breathe. The Stranger, meanwhile, seems to worry, striding toward her with an outstretched arm. A second after his hand is inches away from the helmet, however, he experiences darkness around him, and he momentarily internally panics but tries to suppress it. What could be the source of this darkness he is experiencing?

- From the outside, we see that his eyes go dark, much like Torbin’s did last episode. Something is influencing him, but we’re not sure what. In his ‘experience’, the Stranger’s emotions flash across his face in rapid waves. We don’t know what he’s seeing. Osha, on the other hand, is still struggling for air, taking short and sharp breaths. The Stranger struggles to lift his other arm, and at last, removes the helmet from Osha’s head. She gasps for air, the feeling of drowning slowly escaping her. She shudders; what has she seen? She says she’s seen her sister, and that in her vision, Mae “had her hand outstretched” and that “she was killing Sol”. This visibly shakes Osha because she still considers Sol a good friend. After a short while, Osha says she still wants to stop Mae, but the Stranger notes that only he has the ship.

- Planetside Brendok, Mae and Sol are onboard the Jedi ship, and in orbit. Mae is still bound to the bed, and Sol says Master Vern will intercept him later. All these years later and Sol wants to prove that there is a Vergence on Brendok, but Mae still does not believe that her mother’s murder was justified. That’s a fair response; how else would one feel to talk to someone who killed their mom?

- We see, as was already obvious, two very different points of view. Sol maintains that the covens’ death was an “accident”, but Mae is adamant that in her eyes, the Jedi “invaded” her home and so she had to lock everyone in, irregardless of her setting Osha’s book on fire in the first place. While they argue, Mae uses Pip to pick the lock on her wrist binder to free herself. Sol says that the Jedi were right to intervene, but then tells Mae that she and Osha “are not twins. You’re not even sisters.”

- That’s when Mae’s restraints pop open, and she briefly shocks Sol, then bolts. Sol chases after her, but Mae makes it to an escape ship, and closes the door just as Sol reaches the ship. It’s too late for him; Mae takes the pilot’s seat, and flies off.

- TITLE CARD!!

- Sol reaches the pilot’s bay in his main ship and can only watch Mae fly off. He takes off after her. She chooses evasive maneuvers and flies straight into an orbiting asteroid ring. (Classic Star Wars moves.) No matter; he follows from above, but chooses to fly in after her, and pops up his rangefinder.

- The tracker creature pulls a few wires, sending alarms blaring. Sol’s ship veers out of balance, sending Mae’s escape ship also careening away. She manages to get her ship down to the ground, but it’s a rough landing, thankfully.

- Back on Coruscant, Vernestra meets with Rayencourt. This is internal Senate-Jedi politics, and Rayencourt doesn’t seem to like that Vernestra is keeping some things secret to the Jedi alone. Rayencourt tries to prod for answers, but Vern only reveals little. Rayencourt states point blank, “I think the Jedi are a massive system of unchecked power, posing as a religion, a delusional cult that claims to control the uncontrollable.” From an outside perspective, he’s absolutely right. It’s why Yoda, a hundred years from now, will say he failed; it’s why Luke, more than 100 years later, will say the Jedi are a failed system. It’s an easy thing to say when Jedi essentially kidnap children and train them to be soldiers under the guise of being so-called keepers of the peace. Rayencourt’s view of the Jedi is the same statement that many want to make but is also one that underpins the Prequels, so much so that it’s easy to see why they failed to stop Palpatine from rising to power. They were blinded by their own power, and could not see darkness from within their own ranks.

- Rayencourt continues, “You project an image of goodness and restraint, but it’s only a matter of time before one of you snaps.” He’s also absolutely correct in this regard; we saw what happened to Anakin, we saw what became of Ben Solo, we saw the man Luke became. They snapped, all in their own way. Rayencourt, with great if not unforeseen foresight, goes on: “And when, not “if”, that happens, who will be strong enough to stop him?” Vernestra takes all this in stoically, and shows him the door. He leaves, but not without a “May the Force be with you” valediction, but this time it sounds like an intended and well-placed insult.

- On the unknown planet, Osha and the Stranger head for his ship. He’s the curious one now, not knowing the destination. Osha, on the other hand, knows what she’s doing, and effectively holds his ship hostage by saying, “We do together or we don’t go at all.” Osha is decked in an athletic and hooded dress-like outfit; it is dark grey. The Stranger asks Osha if she ever considered being trained, but she refuses. The Stranger thinks that’s fair.

- We see the ship leave, but when the camera cuts back to the shadows of the hideout, one of the scarred witches appears from behind a wall, dark and ominous.

- On Brendok. Sol’s ship is stationed outside the fortress, much like he had done 16 years ago. He sets out alone.

- On Coruscant, Vern speaks over the comms to a person unknown to us. It sounds like this person had disguised their voice, deliberately. Vernestra is informed that Sol has been located; she wants to resolve something.

- Near Brendok, the Stranger’s ship approaches. Osha is in the pilot’s seat; why would she not be? The ship’s odd design means the Stranger is in a twin but separate cockpit. He makes a comment, but she shuts down his systems on his side to prevent him doing anything funny. She leaves on the comms to add insult to injury. She notices that Sol and/or Mae are already at the fortress.

- On the ground, Sol makes his way to the fortress, and hears, and sees, the approaching ship. He decides to ignore it for now, and encircles the fortress to find a way in. He does, and walks into the overgrown courtyard he hadn’t stepped foot in in over a decade. The place does not hold good memories; regardless, he calls for Mae, thinking that she would have made her way to her fortress home as well.

- Outside, Osha and the Stranger arrive at the fortress. She notes that the old elevator is the only way in, but then, hears the Stranger’s voice become an echo, asking her, “Are you sure?” She looks around; where has he gone? People don’t just vanish like that; not when they’re within arm’s length distance from you. As she stands there, confused, Sol makes his way through the fortress ruins. He arrives at the exact same point he had stood all those years ago when he made that fatal decision. He backs up and walks away, and just as his figure disappears from sight, Mae’s hand shoots up from beneath the floor, and she heaves herself up to the platform.

- Mae finds herself in her old bedroom, the same bedroom she had locked Osha in all those years ago to prevent her from leaving. It looks like she feels uneasy. Outside, Osha fiddles with the elevator controls, and opens the rusty doors.

- Sol makes his way through a hallway and calls Mae’s name, but is accosted by the helmeted Stranger. They face down; what is Star Wars without a good hallway saber duel? The Stranger backs Sol through a series of hallways, and they hover themselves down to the plaza. Sol says, “I will destroy you if I must”, to which the Stranger warns, “Not if she gets to you first.” The Stranger disconnects his saber, choosing to now duel with two blades, a longer one and a shorter one.

- Sol leaps at the Stranger, kicking him backwards, but this doesn’t faze him. The Stranger throws both his lit sabers, hoping to backstab Sol, but Sol sees this coming, and holsters his own sabers, and uses the Force to throw the red sabers off, and the Stranger to the ground. Sol reignites his saber. The Stranger is undaunted.

- Osha, clad in dark grey, finds her sister Mae, in light grey, in their old room. Osha still feels grief and anger over the past, but Mae holds a different view of how things unfolded. Mae tells Osha that Sol has killed Mother Aniseya, and affirms Osha’s negative emotions that Sol could never hope to quell. Mae continues, saying, “You never failed; he did.” With that, the sisters come to blows, engaging in physical unarmed combat. Their movements mirror each other. They both kick high, legs clashing.

- The camera cuts right away to the clashed blades of Sol and the Stranger in the courtyard, their battle evidently not over. The Jedi’s ship arrives.

- In their bedroom, Osha and Mae keep duking it out. Mysteriously, Mae disappears, and Osha looks around the empty room.

- In the courtyard, the battle rages on. In a stunning move, Sol swipes his blade and slices the Stranger’s lightsaber hilt open. The Stranger discards his saber, removes his helmet, and turns to face Sol, whose saber is out and pointing to his neck.

- Mae appears in the courtyard, and hits Sol. In a swift movement, Mae grabs Sol’s lightsaber. The Stranger says, “Strike him down and your journey will be complete.” Mae, however, tosses Sol’s saber aside. Mae refuses, wanting instead for Sol to “confess what he did. I want him to face the High Council. The Senate. The Republic. I want him to pay for his crimes.” Sol still maintains that he “did the right thing”, but how was killing Mother Aniseya the right thing? Nothing can explain that away. He claims that he was trying to protect Osha and Mae from their mother, who might’ve in some way used the Force to create life. Sol says, “In the history of the galaxy, very few have been that powerful.” While he talks and is distracted, the Stranger picks up Sol’s saber. In Mae’s eyes, it still does not justify her mother’s death. Sol is hesitant, but finally admits that yes, he did kill Mother Aniseya. (On a separate note, one of the Stranger’s past last lessons to Mae was to kill a Jedi without a weapon; here and now Mae is weaponless, and had forced Sol, a supposedly respectable Jedi, to distill the Jedi’s order and idea of “protection” down to chaos and “murder” in the name of safety, and in a way, killed the idea of a Jedi, thereby fulfilling the Stranger’s last task.)

- Mae looks up, and sees Osha coming through the doorway. Osha had heard all she needs to hear, but shakily asks Sol, “Is that true?” Sol deflects by telling her he did what he thought was right, that he wanted to tell her the truth “so many times, but I couldn’t”. Osha is in denial; in her hand, she holds Sol’s saber. Turns out, the Stranger had handed it to her.

- Osha does not take this lightly; she Force-chokes Sol, and Mae looks on in concern. The crystal in the saber in Osha’s hand slowly bleeds red, and she closes her fist, killing Sol. He drops to the ground, and Osha sobs, realizing what she has done. Mae is also concerned; Osha had done what Mae could not. The Stranger slowly approaches Osha, who lashes out at him, saber ignited; we see the red from the crystal bleeding into the ignited blade, and within seconds, the blade turns an angry crimson from hilt to tip. Osha inspects the saber, fascinated.

- Elsewhere, Vern’s ship had arrived. With her are a small contingent of Knights. She reaches out, and realizes the Stranger is alive. He notices the Force shift, and puts his helmet on.

- Back in the fortress, Mae cautiously approaches Osha, saying, “We need to leave.” Surprisingly, Osha switches off the saber, and follows her sister. They run through the hallways, and escape down the internal cliff that Mae had earlier climbed up from. They reach a tunnel, and walk through it.

- In the courtyard, Vernestra and the Jedi find Sol’s lifeless body. Vern sends the Jedi to search the premises; the Stranger looks on from behind a hidden pillar as Vern approaches Sol’s body.

- Mae and Osha continue running. Elsewhere not too far away, the Jedi start tracking the sisters, who have arrived at the tree they used to come to as kids.

- Mae tells Osha that this is where she sat and waited; Osha apologizes to Mae, saying, “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.” Mae returns an apology: “I’m sorry I started that fire.” Osha starts crying, and tears appear in Mae’s eyes too. They repeat the same little chant they did as kids.

- The Stranger appears, and takes Sol’s now-red saber. Mae asks her sister, “What do you want, Osha?” What does Osha want to do? Osha tells the Stranger that she will train with him, only if he lets Mae go. Mae warns that the Jedi are using her scent to track the both of them, and the Stranger offers to wipe Mae’s memory in favor of letting Osha do what she wants. Mae willingly agrees, not wanting to risk her sister’s safety. This is not something she is forced to do, she is doing this of her own free will and out of love for her own sister. Osha doesn’t want to lose Mae, not again. Mae assures, “You’re not. You are going to do what you were meant to do. But I won’t stop you this time.” Osha makes a deal with the Stranger, but gives one last farewell hug to Mae. Osha promises to find Mae, who says, “I know you will.” They start their little poem again, and Mae discreetly nods at the Stranger, who proceeds to, with her consent, wipe her memory. Mae can’t even finish her line. By the time the Jedi arrive, only Mae is left standing under the tree, Osha and the Stranger long gone.

- Back on Coruscant, an arrested Mae gets shepherded through the Temple’s halls. At this point, as agreed, she has no memory of her sister and the Stranger. Mae is walked into a room, and sees Vernestra, who orders that Mae’s restraints be removed.

- Vern asks Mae if she knows why she’s here; to Mae she does not know anything, other than being told she’s murdered someone but has no collection of the event. She recounts fragmented memories, about a fire, a man killing her mother, and herself running off.

- Vernestra fills in the gaps for her, telling Mae her last memory is of when she’s 8. Vern affirms that Sol killed Mother Aniseya. Later, she tells the Senate what happened all those years ago. She tells them the truth, though a warped version of it. In this version, she names Sol as the rogue Jedi who “killed his accomplices to maintain the cover story.” When asked where Sol was, Vern says, “I believe he ended his own life.” Which, from a certain point of view, is true, considering he allowed Osha to kill him, accepting his failure and his guilt. Vern tells Mae, “Sol made a mistake. A mistake he lived with for so long it twisted his mind.” (Would Vern be telling a warped version of the story to protect Mae and Osha?) “He justified every selfish step with the live he had for your sister.” Mae does not remember the name Osha.

- Vern continues, “You poor girl. The Jedi have failed you. I am going to make this right. But I need your help.” Mae asks what with, and is informed, “A pupil of mine before he turned to evil.” (Which is more or less the same words Obi-Wan would utter to Luke in ANH.) Mae agrees.

- On the Stranger’s planet, Osha stands, looking out at the waves before her. The Stranger approaches, and lightly takes Osha’s hand, which is holding the saber. Sunset; Master and Apprentice look out at the waves beyond.

- Back on Coruscant, Vern walks into a room, and addresses her Master, who is none other than Yoda.

- The scene closes out. The credits roll.

[fvckyouimaprophet]

Music asks! 1, 2, 8, 17, 27, 38, 54, 56, 92, and 106!

Thank you, Ash!! Sorry it’s taken me forever to respond. I’m just very indecisive (despite asking for these questions, ha).

When I’m saying favorite for any of these questions, it can change day to day or even mood to mood, so I’ll just pick two or three that come to mind for most. 😅

1. What is your favorite album?

I will admit that with streaming, I don’t typically listen to most albums in full beyond maybe 3-5 times.

But since I saw them in concert recently, I’ll say, I’ve been listening to The Head on the Door by The Cure.

But the real forever answer is Shrek 2: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack

2. What is your favorite artist?

It may currently be Angel Olsen and Sharon Van Etten.

8. What is your favorite concept album?

Look, I know it’s a big one, but it’s gotta be Ziggy Stardust by David Bowie. 

17. Favorite song right now?

Favorite might not be right, but ones I’m listening to non-stop lately: Vampire by Olivia Rodrigo, Immigraniada (We Comin' Rougher) by Gogol Bordello, and Mermaids by Florence + The Machine

27. What is your favorite album that is not sung in your mother tongue?

Ooh, while I listen to many songs that aren’t in English (especially French and Croatian), I feel like I can almost count the number of full albums on my fingers (that aren’t associated with movie soundtracks).

Un verano sin ti by Bad Bunny G***y Kings by G***y Kings (given the name, I want to add that their parents mostly are Romani from Spain) Tous les garçons et les filles by Françoise Hardy

It has been years since I’ve listened to it, but I’m also going to put Rebecca: The Musical in German (Vienna production). We were robbed of a Broadway production. Hoping the London version this year leads to that.

38. Good song for writing

I admittedly make a lot of playlists for things that I’m writing but mostly play instrumental music while I write because it can be hard to tune it out, and I don’t want to be distracted.

But also things are so dependent on vibe?

Instrumental: Shape of Water by Alexander Desplat, Comptine d’un autre été by Yann Tiersen, and Drive My Car by Eiko Ishibashi

Non-Instrumental: Hounds of Love by Kate Bush, Shadow by Chromatics, and Sorry Not Sorry by Tyler, The Creator

54. Song you recommend

For you specifically (if you don’t know them already): A Better Son/Daughter by Rilo Kiley, ale Bien Qui Fait Mal by Mozart l’Opera Rock, and Androgynous by The Replacements

For people who may randomly be reading this whose taste I am less familiar with: Easy On Your Own? by Alvvays, Sun Bleached Flies by Ethel Cain (for the uninitiated), and Hot Knife by Fiona Apple

56. Underrated song

I have a bad sense of how popular things actually are, so I’ll just list songs I wish had more recognition that I’ve been listening to this year:

Body by 070 Shake and Christine and the Queens Young Lover by St. Vincent Leather by Tori Amos

92. Which album(s) would you wish to see performed live front to back?

Not possible but:

Blue Weekend by Wolf Alice I Put A Spell On You by Nina Simone Lion and the Cobra by Sinéad O’Connor (😭)

106. Which musicians would you wish to teach you an instrument?

St. Vincent and Mitski can teach me guitar. Kim Deal could teach me bass. They’re all the best at what they do, but also my gay self would thrive.

Send me music asks.

[sunsetsoft]

✏️ (both, either)

@hopedflight 🔆 incorrect quotes – accepting!

rhylzen: relationships should be 50/50. ellie cooks us dinner while i sit on the kitchen counter looking pretty.

rhylzen: i love you. ellie, not paying attention: what was that? rhylzen: i said i’m selling you to the zOo-

ellie: i’m doing what i can to jog your memory. rhylzen: it’s jogging, i guess. its tiddies are jiggling a little. ellie: nice.

rhylzen: guess what I'm about to get! ellie: on my nerves.

ellie: i’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. no response. rhylzen: wow. they sound stupid. ellie: but they’re not. they’re really smart actually. just dense. rhylzen: maybe you need to be more obvious? like, i don’t know… “hey! i love you!” ellie: i guess you’re right. hey rhylzen, i love you. rhylzen: see! just say that! ellie: holy fucking shit. rhylzen: if that flies over their head then, sorry ellie, but they're too dumb for you. ellie: rhylzen.

ellie: well, rhylzen and i finally did it! the rest of the squad: *gasps, shocked expressions, etc.* ellie: that's right... we kissed!

ellie: i owe you one. rhylzen: that’s ok. you can just date me and we’ll call it even.

rhylzen: cause your pretty and your smart, and your ignoring me so your obviously my type. ellie, who was distracted: i'm sorry- what were you saying? rhylzen: perfect.

fel: sorry i’m late, i was doing things. ellie: hi, i’m ‘things’.

fel: hey, wanna take a shower with me? ellie: i have a gun in that nightstand beside the bed. if i ever say no to that question, i want you to take it out and shot me because I’ve obviously gone crazy.

ellie: you've got to act tough, fel! show 'em you can't be pushed around! show 'em they can't mess with you! fel: right. yes. tough. got it. fel, standing up on her stool and slamming her hands down on the bar: I'LL TAKE A CHOCOLATE MILK.

fel: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration*ellie: stop that. how would YOU feel if i banged you on the table? fel: i— fel: i don’t know the correct answer to that question.

fel: don't go to the kitchen. ellie: why? fel: i saw a spider. ellie: well, did you kill it? fel: it has 8 arms and i only have 2, it's not fair...

ellie: we have fun, don’t we, fel? fel: i have never been more stressed out in my entire life.

[essiekuko]

live thru this

just be urself and ppl will like u. that's rlly true actually. then it gets hard when ur in ur teen years cause then u go thru sm phases, and its at that moment ur trying to find out, who rlly is u? but also at that time, remember phases are all just collecting into ur overall identity, shaping who u really are, and the ppl who are sticking by u during that time, well i'd say it makes it easier to define ur true friends who accept u for who u are. my little 'miss world; queen of ur world' era was, by all means, a phase that actually did integrate into my overall identity. and during that time i lost a lot of friends, which made my life finding real friends much easier. and even if ppl don't like u at all, that's so unnecessary anyway. i was more of an authentic, original person thru primary skl up until year 8 when 13 hit like a brick (ended up living at the motel 6). thats why i had lots of guy friends thruout like year 1-3, when i was truly just a lil kid wanting to play all the time and i had like 2 friends who were just rlly effeminate guys. then later on in primary-year 7 i had a good balance of guy and girl friends. then miss world kicked in and soon i had like a girl army. and then i lost it all moving to a new skl, then my shyness and isolation from year 9 carried over into year 10 and i couldn't handle going from like 10 friends to 1. it was pretty bad in year 10. i felt so lonely and although i feel like that was pretty petty behaviour, i gotta remember my feelings are and were valid at that time. i went from being the chloe of my skl to a full-on kagami. wanted friends so badly, im pretty sure i covered that in a prev. post tho. anyway, so yeah, even after all my petty (actually self-developing) little phases, yk its sweet and lovely to know one person stuck thru it all. even if she's just one person. and thats the beauty of that phrase, 'just be urself and ppl will like u'.

lordeeee how i love u. theres a phase in every 17 year old girl's life where she must go thru liking lorde. miss world at first became a self-defense mechanism, and i've since told only 1 person this story. and now we don't speak to each other. start of teen years brings on a lot of that gritty angsty teen emotion. and i had this insecurity of, idk, not being feminine enough? so i pulled from mean girls, i pulled from high school musical, and i built the title of which i deem 'miss world' - the hyperfeminine diva, toxic, snarky, gossipy little drama queen. and it became my self-defense mechanism, i'd go bratty when i felt threatened. i guess it's because i saw that image as one of power, and i've always wanted power. the classic question: money, fame or power? my answer is power. and to avoid being at the bottom of the pyramid, i rise and stay at the top as miss world. but i didnt need to uphold her image as long as i could. because i didnt want that person to become a legacy, one that wasn't good at all. to maintain miss world's image i became the gossip, the school informant, everyone knew i knew everything abt everyone, and that gave me such an unhealthy power trip. i had like 3-4 diaries i kept for 2 years. i didn't need to do all that just for miss world. at first i did it to protect myself, then there i was, using it to hurt innocent others. the 1 person i told this told me that back, why use ur self-defense mechanism as a weapon? and i had the ego not to understand that question, and to ignore it. now i understand, albeit a little to late. the urge, the fight and climb to the top for power made me abuse it against those around me. and friends dropped like flies...then year 9 saw me absolutely secluded. didnt help that i had to enter in a new school the next year with a completely weakened mental health, fresh vulnerability and low self-esteem. miss world held up a mirror to the underbelly of my mind's weak points and the abuse my destructive persona bought to others. but i could only be so destructive. it's either others i destroy, or myself. and ik thats not healthy, because it takes obsession to be great. and the sky was made of amethyst...then u go back to it. did i need power at all?? no, i bought this all onto myself. but remember, thats the teen insecure emotions speaking, and in teenhood we all have like one rlly bad/embarassing event that was the final dig of the drill at the rocks that broke down to free who we rlly are. i didnt even need all that 'power' i was worrying abt and so desperately wanted.

also s/o to my one follower. ur page is lowk creepy as hell but i respect u for pulling up to my BPD talks

[zarry-ot5]

Hazoff 2013 and 2014 Zayn

I went down a Jeff Azoff Rabbit hole, and found that Harry met Jeff in 2013, spent the majority of 2014 cultivating his relationship with him. This is interesting, considering who Jeff's father is. Face value, Irving wants the artist to own their music and to profit from their image and music. He's about the artist, that's how Irving made a name for himself.

Jeff was working for CAA at the time he met Harry, which is another Management firm like Full Stop. However, Harry was being managed by Modest Management, which is tied into Syco and representing all their artists.

2013 One Direction resigned a contract with Syco. Reports during September 2013, were the contract was for 3 years & 3 albums, with a bonus promised if all 5 stayed together for the duration of the contract. This is around the time that Harry met Jeff Azoff. This is also the contract renegotiation where the boys retained ownership of their band name and asserted more control in their music.

In the Rolling Stone Interview in 2018, Harry mentioned that he first mentioned a Hiatus in late 2014, because he didn't want to exhaust their fanbases in preparation for their solo careers. Which, hiatus, just meant not continuing as a group passed their contracted time.

September 2014, Syco began trying to sell to Sony. There are emails floating about where Simon was leaning into One Direction for the valuation of Syco. Sony called Simon out, saying they knew the contract with 1D ended at the end of 2015, and the likelihood of it continuing beyond was slim.

The reason I mention all of this, is there's a villification of Zayn leaving and causing a riff in Zarry. The reality of it is, Simon wasn't going to resign the boys to Syco if they stayed together, Harry had no plans of staying beyond 2015, and there wasn't a guarantee Sony was going to pick up what was left of 1D with Harry being gone.

In the Call Her Daddy Podcast in 2024, Zayn mentioned that the reason he left was he could see the writing on the wall because contracts weren't being signed. Why continue to take beatings in the public eye, and have your image sent through the ringer, when you know one of your band mates is set to jump, and there's no guarantee that you'll have a band in literally 9 months time?

I think Harry mentioning the hiatus in 2014, was also a way to prepare the others in their pursuit of their own personal goals as it related to their careers. Giving them the opportunity to network, create a landing pad of sorts.

Looking at Zayn specifically, he wrote in his book that he developed an eating disorder in 2014. He specifically mentions looking at November 2014 being a month that it was at its peak. He had no control over the things going on around him, and the one thing he could control was food.

September 2014 Syco is trying to sell, Late 2014 H starts talking Hiatus, September 2014 Harry begins dropping the word "Weigh" while singing "Little Things", and end of the Where We Are Tour was October 5, 2014.

November 1, 2014 Zayn missed an interview being sick.

November 8, 2014 Zayn was not present for the "Between Us" perfume campaign shoot, as seen in the BTS film, as well as the rollout. This perfume was released after he had left 1D.

November 15, 2014 he traveled to the taping of the Band Aid taping with Louis.

November 16, 2014 After BandAid the boys fly to the US, into Orlando.

November 17, 2014 the Today Show taping on at Universal Studios, this is where they also tape the Christmas 2014 special. Zayn misses the taping of the Today Show with Matt Lauer. Matt Lauer asks his band mates if he has a drug problem. Zayn makes the appearance for the Christmas special taping, but does not participate in the roller coaster ride question and answer. He performs on stage, and participates with fans.

November 18, 2014 Disagreement with Paul Higgins and Zayn.

Nov 19, 2014 Paul Higgins, long standing Tour Security Manager leaves the US and flies home to London, and 2 days later it is reported in the media he got into an argument with Zayn and quit.

November 20, 2014 taping of Jimmy Fallon in NYC.

November 22, 2014 is the 2014 American Music Awards in Los Angeles, where 1D performs Night Changes. Harry is asked who he is excited to see tonight, he says Sam Smith and Ariana Grande (Who he had given Just a Little Bit of Your Heart to, shortly before or shortly after), Zayn immediately asks Harry if there are any rappers on tonight?

November 24, 2014 Zayn and Harry are seen in LAX together, and on November 25, 2014 land in Sydney Australia

November 25, 2014 One Direction at the ARIA's in Sydney.

November 26, 2014 A Current Affair Live In Sydney Interview and Performance.

December 4, 2014 @ Cosmos Awards Perrie is asked about the wedding planning.

December 10, 2014 MYKL (Make you Know Love) tweets that they hit the studio with Zayn.

December 12, 2014 Los Premios 40 Principales Awards in Spain.

December 14, 2014 X Factor Finale Live performance with Ronnie Wood performing Where Do Broken Hearts Go.

Have the remainder of December off and all of January, but February 7, 2015 is when the On The Road Again Tour begins. Rehearsals began February 5, 2014, in Sydney.

To sight stress as being the reason Zayn couldn't handle it anymore, was a understatement.

I'm a natural introvert and my anxiety was peaking just researching what was happening at the time. I could not imagine how hard this would have been for someone who, like me, that doesn't enjoy being out and about for long periods. I would have lost my mind long before Zayn ever broke.

[randomwriteronline]

9 Ways to (Nicely) Turn Down an Easily Smitten 10-Year-Old

or: the line between platonic and romantic love is tenuous for Skull Kid, and their tendency to confess out of nowhere is guaranteed to make 8 out of 9 heroes panic.

“I’m in love with you.”

The world slams the brake out of nowhere and Hyrule, not wearing any seatbelts, flies against the dashboard directly with his stomach before being squashed back in his seat by the faulty airbag.

He turns to Skull Kid. They are staring right at him.

In the sense that if they could see, they would be staring right at him. They aren’t, because they can’t, since they’re very much as blind as a newborn fox, but somehow they still manage to point their eyes directly into his. There is an earnestness in them, too, in their entire face, that assures him the words that just left their mouth are certainly, unwaveringly serious.

Which! Is not ideal.

Firstly, because he has never in his life been interested in someone romantically.

Secondly, because Skull Kid is ten.

It’s not up for debate. No amount of ‘technically they could be more ancient that the kingdom itself’ will ever erase the instant knee-jerk reaction that makes them immediately answer “Ten” whenever their age is even vaguely questioned.

What on Farore’s green earth is he meant to do?

Is this something that happens? Is it normal? Do children say these things normally to older people? Is it just Skull Kid? If this was an adult, he could go for a nervous uncomfortable laugh and a no thanks, maybe a stab if the other got rowdy - but this is a child. He does not know the procedure.

By fuck would he love to know the procedure.

The right words to answer that with.

“I don’t feel the same,” Hyrule blurts out with a wheeze, realizing both instantly and too late that this is probably the worst way to reply.

“That’s fine.”

What?

Skull Kid slams the back of their head against his chest while twisting their spine like a cat or a ferret; their cranium falls on Hyrule’s lap and drags everything else with it, smacking the traveler’s face a couple times with various body parts as they get comfortable before tucking their limbs under their body and loaf comfortably on his legs.

In all of this the hero has been scrambling to reconnect his brain to his nerves so he can actually process the words he has just heard.

After a pretty long lag, speech returns to him: “Wait, really?”

The child stops their purring storm for a moment: “Ye.”

Huh.

“Are you alright with that?” he insists. The Fae-doll is usually more persistent with their whims and questions. It feels suspicious of them to just... Let that be. “You’re not upset?”

They snuggle on him as his hand goes to pat their head: “We’re friends,” they reply matter-of-factly, still purring.

No further comment.

Well... That went absurdly smoothly, Hyrule tells himself as he deflates.

His hand runs down along Skull Kid’s shirt, and for a moment he stops and does a double check to register his sorroundings better, because he distinctly feels like something is amiss. Looking at the coarse, brownish fabric, he figures it out.

This is a child. He’s petting a child like a cat. The child is also so much like a cat that they might be one, sure, but they’re still child-shaped.

Hyrule looks at the shirt intently.

He resumes petting the loafing, purring mystery of nature that just professed their love for him and accepted his refusal of it as if not a word had come out of their mouth. This day started so gods-damned weird anyways.

-

“I’m in love with you.”

Oh no, Twilight thinks as his entire back turns into a block of ice, Oh fuck.

There’s no way Skull Kid is joking.

Not a single fucking possibility.

And look: it’s not like this is his first time at this very awkward rodeo he’d gladly pass, alright. It’s happened before. Beth had a crush on him until a little less than three years ago, Colin perhaps too, though in that case he'd been much more timid about it - hell, even he had one on a local lady when he’d been the kids’ age!

It can be destabilizing when the object of the affection is you, but it’s nothing bad. It's normal. Sometimes a child might get an infatuation or two on someone older and then it all passes eventually, he knows that.

But with Skull Kid it's different, because they're a bomb with no timer.

What constitutes 'normal' for a Skull Kid (which is to say, an undead immortal hollow husk presumably made of wood, sap and shadow - and feathers, apparently - shambling about in an accursed grove in a shape vaguely reminiscent of a child) exactly?

What, to such a creature, is 'destined to eventual degradation' and what instead 'going to persist until the end of time'?

He's not some creep, he isn't going to just accept the advances of a child, of course - but having to forcibly consider the kid will both never grow up and still manage to outlive him then it begs the question, does that mean he will have to deal with this his entire life?

If he says the wrong thing, will the kid be so heartbroken and spiteful that he will never again manage to mend that hole opened between them?

This might be exaggerating, but he can't really take any chances, damnit!

He inhales sharply to get some kind of air to support him from inside his chest before he folds in on himself.

"That's very nice of you," he starts, wrestling with his vocal chords so that his voice doesn't come out shaky, and then his brain scrambles to figure out what to say next in the most delicate way possible: "But I don't think it can work out like that."

Skull Kid tilts their head: "Why's that?"

There it is, the one million rupee question.

He's never had to safely detonate a bomb before, but this is probably how it feels. And it's stressful as hell.

"Because you're... Well, you're like a little sibling to me."

Twilight has seen cats widen their pupils into spheres before; Skull Kid's expand so far that their iris is reduced to but a glimmering thread the width of a hair.

Their little voice comes out even thinner than usual: "Like family?"

The rancher nods: "Just like that."

"Really?"

Twilight lets himself melt in a sigh of relief at seeing the kid positively blinding in their uncontainable joy.

Thank Ordona.

Once again, the truth is the right choice.

His large hand falls on their little head in a heavy pat: "Yep," he wheezes out as he feels the imp gleefully shaking their entire rattling frame like a beehive in the midst of a revolution against the monarchy under his weak, relieved caresses, "Really."

-

"I'm in love with you."

Hm!

Oh boy.

This is. Uh. Shit.

Is he - should - oh, gods be damned -

"I'm, ah, very flattered," Warriors replies with a nervous chuckle, "But I must beg you to reconsider."

“Why?”

For a moment he wishes he could grab them very gently, roll them in a ball in his hand, and bowl them as far away from himself as possible. But he can’t do that, because everybody else would knock his teeth out (understandably), so he’s stuck with those enormous amber jewels opening ever-expanding vacuums directly into his skull.

This does not change the fact that they can’t just... Go around confessing to strangers on a whim.

What if they find some idiot.

What if they find some genuinely horrible person.

Some shitstain of epic proportions.

Some absolute...

A worldess whimper escapes him despite his attempts to contain it.

The air hisses through his gritted teeth as he searches for a good argument against this proposal: “I’m... Too tall for you.”

(He can’t say ‘old’ for whatever unspoken reason Time has decreted through glares and eloquent yet undecipherable silences, but it’s still very much the truth - the kid barely reaches his hip in height, for Farore’s sake - and it seems like a pretty good allusion to the actual problem, no?)

“You can lean down,” Skull Kid replies immediately, the point flying over their head entirely like a majestic crane evading any and all hunters.

Nayru give him patience because if Din gave him strength he would dig a hole deep enough to fall into the burning core of the world and let himself be devoured by hellish flames for the rest of eternity.

Ok, ok. Ok.

Ok.

Hold on.

Warriors joins hands in front of his mouth as he steadies himself.

How does he explain something this disgusting to a child without either getting into details nor telling them he himself is an adult (another unspoken, unexplained rule that he has no plans in breaking despite questioning it)?

And as he taps his foot anxiously it sort of...

Hits him.

That Skull Kid very much understands what he’s talking about.

That they already know he is an adult, that many of them already are or are very close to being adults, because they are not stupid even if they sometimes seem to be; that they pretend otherwise for some thing or other, and that’s what caused this mess of a situation; and that they just - willingly choose to feign ignorance and pretend they don’t hear the rather noisy elephant in the room.

It’s not obvious at all. It’s only barely a feeling, one he could have missed had he not stared right into the pitch black pupils.

So he squats to be roughly at eye level with the kid.

“I know you’re clever,” he decides to start with. Their ears flap a little, flustered. “So we both know what I mean when I say ‘tall’.”

“I don’t.“

“Skull Kid,” his tone turns stern, and they too turn serious, mouth disappearing as it happens when it turns to a thin line on their face: “You can lie much better than that. You do know what I mean. And I won’t address that now because it’s not the point of what I’m saying, I just need you to admit it to yourself.”

No answer.

They just listen.

“The point I’m making is... If somebody as tall as me said something like that to you  - or told you they’re in love with you too, you’d bite their ankles off, right?”

The imp nods.

“And their guts,” they add.

A correct reaction, if a bit extreme.

Warriors scratches behind one of their ears as if the doll was a kitten: “Attaboy,” he sighs relieved as they lean into the touch and grin, little deadly teeth all sharp in their two rows. “So you understand why I tell you I’m too tall for that to work out and leaning down wouldn’t help?”

Skull Kid hums and nods.

Thank fuck.

“Good kid.”

-

"I'm in love with you."

That's one way to get punted out of a slumber that not even twenty-one cannons shooting simultaneously from right next to the ear could break.

It's also way too early for something like this.

Sky rolls rather ridiculously in the blankets he stuck himself in during the night as he attempts to districate his limbs from it with varying degrees of success. Eventually he gives up, dangling halphazardly from the ship bunk.

“Are you sure of that?” he asks - stupidly, he realizes, but his brain is barely functional and what should he do anyways?

The child nods: “Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Well!

This is very unfortunate.

For one! Because he does not like boys. (Skull Kid is not one but that does not matter in this case.)

For two, because he is already engaged to somebody else - rather happily too.

And for three. Because this is a child.

An undead child at that.

Not that he would consider romantically reciprocating a living child, to be clear, it’s just even less something he could see himself doing since the child in question is effectively an impressively well preserved centuries old corpse held upright by some kind of foul, dark woodland magic that not even Hylia herself apparently can understand.

Alfonzo picks this moment to walk down below deck, what is clearly a question for the skydweller at his lips (probably, he meant to wake him).

Not even the time to search for Sky’s eyes that he fully takes in the scene - one of the weird nine men Link brought over to the ship dangling from his bunk like a rabbit in a butcher’s shop before the perfectly child-sized doll he is very certain houses some sort of unspeakable evil - and very wisely, very carefully, climbs backwards up the stairs to leave without a single word.

Sky wishes he could follow him out of the conversation.

In part because Skull Kid is burning holes in his face right now with how hard they stare directly into him and it’s a bit uncomfortable.

But alas

“Please don’t be mad,” he says very slowly, so the words can settle into the little empty head nice and tight and hopefully he will manage to avoid tantrums or tears that would do no good at all for either of them, "But I'm afraid I’m already in love with somebody else."

They gasp incredibly loudly.

In a second they’re all up in his face, pupils wide as wells shimmering intrigued: "Who is it? Do I know him?"

Him?

“Uh,” the knight struggles for a moment to get out of his blankets, “Depends on - how, how many people do you know?”

“Not many.” they admit.

If he could just get...

“An example?”

“You...” they interrupt themself, hands raised suddenly: their fingers flex one by one, only one thumb remaining straight. “Nine. And two fairies. And four Giants too. And technically four Great Fairies but they don’t count because I hate them.”

The knot holding him up finally comes undone; the floor is very well-made, from what he can assess with his face squashed against it.

“You don’t know her then,” he mumbles.

Skull Kid crouches closer to his head: “Can I meet her?” they ask excitedly, showing no intention of helping him up in the slightest. “Is she nice? If she’s nice we could be friends. Can she be my friend? I don’t know many girls. It’d be fun. Does she like boys?”

“Well, she likes me, so I imagine yes.”

They nod solemnly: “She has good taste.”

Sky nods as well - as best as he can with his neck bent so awkwardly.

-

"I'm in love with you."

Legend turns his neck so fast it nearly flings his entire body through the air.

"Like hell you are," he spits out too bewildered to think before he speaks.

The strength of his voice is more than enough to stun the child into an intimidated silence, even making them flinch backwards a bit. Both spend a few moments in a strange somewhat tense silence, staring right at each other like a hunting dog and a hare caught in a standstill after seeing the opponent on the other end of the field, waiting for whoever will make the first move.

"Yes I am." Skull Kid replies, more quietly.

He tightens the turniquet on his leg: “No,” he hisses for a moment, then calms, “You’re not.”

At this they pout and frown, little hands swiftly catching a viscous tear falling from their amber eyes and speading it across the gash on his side to help stop the bleeding now that bandages are low. The veteran sighs.

Great. So this is what they’ll be doing today.

“I say I am,” the kid insists.

“And I say you’re not.”

“But I am!”

“You. Are. Not.”

“I am!”

“You’re not.”

“I am!”

“You’re not!”

“Am too!”

The veteran opens his arms harshly: "You're ten!” he argues: “At most what you're having is a puppy crush!"

Again the imp shrinks in their shoulders with a rattle.

Legend claws at his own cheeks in frustration. Why does the pest have those enormous eyes? Who gave them the right to own them and make them so expressive? Why do they have to look so scared when he raises his voice? Alright, that he knows, it’s the trauma, he has it too, it was a rethoric question, he wasn’t - fantastic, now he feels bad for that too, he didn’t even say it aloud-!

He gives a groan and kicks at the ground, just like a kid throwing a tantrum.

"Well," Skull Kid murmurs, "I do have that."

"Have what?"

"The puppy crush."

The veteran gives some kind of mocking laugh: "On me?" he smirks bitterly. "Of all possible people?"

Wrong answer - the kid furrows their entire face again at his ever self-deprecating tone.

"If you say that again I will bite you," they threaten.

Legend huffs, unthreatened: "You always go for the biting first," he notes, "Don't you know spells? Wouldn't using one of those be easier?"

"Fine!" they pout then: "I'll cast a spell."

"Oh yeah? And which spell?" he teases.

"Spell of I Bite You."

Legend folds in on himself with a loud snort.

"Alright," he chuckles, giving in as he pats their shoulders, "Alright, that's a good one. Gods... Spell of Counter Me This..."

Skull Kid grins as well: "Spell of Teeth In Your Arm!" they try again, to see him laugh.

"Spell of Guess Again, You Second Rate Asshole!" he doubles down.

"Spell of Get Fucked!"

This time, the single laugh he caws out pulls at his bigger injury under the amber encasing it and does hurt like a motherfucker. Not that he notices - a hand on the pained side, he falls down on the other, snickering wildly and with no hint of shame like the fox that finally got in the chicken coop.

-

"I'm in love with you."

This is has happened more times than Wild is comfortable admitting, but he had yet to hear it from a toddler, he'll give it that.

He doesn’t know how to answer, so he just sort of.

Doesn’t.

He nods vaguely in their direction and focuses back on the map to find that damned place he could swear they had just passed where he is certain he saw some herbs particularly good for potions all ready for harvest.

After a while, the copper voice reminds him the kid is still there: “It’s true.”

“Hm?” he turns towards them.

“That I’m in love with you.”

“Oh! Yeah. I heard that,” the champion blinks as the words stumble out of  him.

The imp hums at him.

Their intent is unclear.

Goddess, this is so awkward-

“That’s very kind of you.” he tells them. “To be in love with me.”

“It’s because I like you,” they explain.

“Hm,” he nods.

“And also your hair is long.”

“What about it?”

“It’s easier to make braids with it.”

“Ah,” Wild continues, slowly and worringly questioning if ‘it was very kind of you’ was interpreted as an acceptance of romantic feelings, because it very much was not, and if it was taken as such then he can feel the trouble crawling up the hand holding Skull Kid’s own.

They don’t notice his concerns in the slightest, rambling quietly: “All the others have short hair, so it’s harder to make braids with it - I can do it anyways because I practiced doing it a lot of times with grass mostly, but it’s easier when it’s longer like yours. It’s not my favorite thing to do or the most fun, but it’s nice. I like playing music more, but it’s nice. I think it’s the feeling? Of the hair in the hands. They’re nice. Your hair is dirty usually though. It’s all covered in oil and dirt, so it feels weird and it tastes nasty.”

Yes, it does, he thinks as he chews a strand - wait a second.

He turns to them: “Do you eat my hair?”

“Sometimes,” they admit absent-mindendly.

Wild stops in his tracks; Skull Kid doesn’t, and smacks into his leg.

“Seriously?”

He has to wait for a moment, but they do correct themself: “Oh, no, not eating. Biting sometimes, I do that to everybody. But not eating, that’s gross.”

“You just bite hair?”

“Not on purpose.”

“But you do?”

They nod.

For some ungodly, incomprehensible reason this reminds him of the sucker punch of a conversation starter that somehow led to this very weird discovery.

“About you being in love-” he starts, brain churning to find a solution.

“It’s true.”

“-Yes, it’s - there’s... Many people who feel that way, about- about me, and they’re, uh... They’ve decided to, to settle the matter in an archery competition.”

(Archery. Huh. It does the job, sure, but it's weird he didn't have to think about it at all. Even stranger when considering that none of his... Suitors, if one can call them that, has an affinity for the art. Oh well. No matter.)

"I can win that!" Skull Kid smiles sharp and wide at him, so sure of themself.

He almost feels bad for them.

"Skull Kid," Wild leans down to their little face to remind them as kindly as humanly possible, "You're blind."

The words make the kid stall for a moment.

"Oh," they deflate sadly.

But the champion is quick to pat their shoulder comfortingly: "But while they do that, we can go pick some mushrooms."

"Oh!" the imp immediately brightens again.

I am so smart, Wild compliments himself as the crisis is successfully averted and the two of them go back to looking for those damned herbs.

-

"I'm in love with you."

Four just sort of... Widens his eyes in surprise.

What the fuck, thinks Green.

Aw!, thinks Red, But yes, what the fuck.

Blue thinks nothing, because he’s experiencing a shortcircuit that froze his entire brain completely in zero-point-one seconds flat.

Mentally, Vio has laid down on the floor for the rot to claim him.

"Uh," Four starts, not continuing.

What now?, Green begins panicking.

Good question, uhm- Red looks around, as if a clue could be found in the inside of their shared cranium which, unfortunately, looks emptier than a vase abandoned upside down -Blue?

The more belligerant of the four looks back at them with terror in his eyes: What makes you think I know what to do?

He’s just asking!

Well ask something more intelligent!

I’m stressed!

We’re all stressed!

In a horrendous brainstorming session partly made of incoherent uncoordinated talking over each other with no rhyme or reason, some vague string of sounds is arranged and shoved through the vocal chords and mouth to be articulated and turned into something intelligible.

“Neat,” Four says.

What bullshit reply is that?!, Red shrieks.

Green refuses to reply, hands trying to claw his face out and a look like he’s on the verge of a crisis.

Blue takes a moment to get even just one idea before grabbing it and launching himself to the least active member of the system with dubious intent: VIO, he yells as he shakes the alter in question vehemently, VIO GET UP FROM THE MENTAL FLOOR WE NEED YOUR HELP!

What kind of help, Vio replies so flatly it’s not even a question.

YOU’RE THE SMART ONE, YOU CAN FIGURE THIS OUT!

You want me to tell them I have a boyfriend?, the smart one posits, Because that doesn’t apply to you three, you do know that.

It’s still something!, Red argues desperately.

I’m not disclosing that to a rabid child.

VIO WE’RE HAVING A COLLECTIVE BREAKDOWN!

Not me.

VIO.

Red grabs both of them with a strength not unlike that of a mountain giant; in a moment they are dragged to their weeping leader, piled onto him, and desperately bodyslammed, their cacophony of pain and yells finally creating a thought that goes straight out of their shared mouth (which, very surprisingly, has been able to contain this festival of panic away from the rest of the world).

“Would it be alright if we just stayed friends?”

“Of course,” Skull Kid grins.

They go right back to braiding Four’s hair.

YES!, Green yells. He slams his head against the calcium walls of their cranium, making Red jump as he was deflating in relief. TEAMWORK DOES IT AGAIN!

Blue crouches on the ground, massaging his aching temples: That was the most stressful ten minutes of my life.

It’s been twelve seconds, corrects Vio.

Go fuck yourself.

-

“I’m in love with you.”

Time smiles softly.

“Why, thank you, sweet heart,” he replies as he picks his friend up in his arms and kisses their forehead, eliciting a wonderful giggle. He sighs happily: “Did I ever tell you you’re my best friend?”

Skull Kid nods all excitedly, and wraps their arms tight around his neck in a hug with another laugh.

-

“I’m in love with you.”

THIS IS TOO SOON.

At least - it feels like too soon, way too soon. Then again, he’s never had a crush like this before. Or one in general before. Is this what it feels like? To be in love? Is he in love? Should he thank them? Should he ask them something? Should he say anything at all even? Should he just stay quiet? They can’t be serious. Can they?

Wind shrugs with excessive nonchalance to conceal the incessant thrumming of heart and brain, praying they don’t feel or hear any of what he’s going through.

“You tell that to everybody,” he says in a tone he hopes is dismissive and cool.

“Not everybody,” Skull Kid argues.

“You said it to all the others!”

“Because it’s true,” they reply immediately, completely serious.

What is this supposed to mean? That he’s the runt of the litter, that everybody else deserved their slice of love first  and he can have what’s left? That he’s not mature enough to hear it first? No, no, probably not. Skull Kid is ten, and around adults they tense up and get scared. They think the others are kids - like Wind. If they try to tell them otherwise Time gives them a certain look, like when they tried to pry about what had really happened in Termina, and they all shut up and accept that to Skull Kid, they’re all kids. So he must compete with them. Because you can’t be in love with nine people at the same time, you need to choose one. Only one. And he’s already at a disadvantage, because he’s just as competent and smart and heroic as the rest of them, but he’s not as tall or as mature or as... As... As whatever else the others have on him. So he needs to do ten times the work if he wants them to choose him.

Does he want them to choose him?

He shakes the thoughts out of his head; his hair slaps him gently.

“You can’t be in love with nine people at the same time,” he tells them.

“Yes you can.”

The sailor huffs: “And how would that even work?”

“Like this,” and they don’t do anything.

Wind waits.

He really does wait, sat next to them, trying to look them in the eyes and forcing himself to try again everytime he fails.

He caves in after what feels like a decade: “You’re not doing anything.”

“Should I?”

“You said ‘like this’, like you were going to show me.”

“Ah!” their head jerks a little upward, blind irises now pointed to the sky. They move almost imperceptibly, search through the darkness around them: “No,” they conclude, “That’s what I meant.”

“What? What did you mean?”

“That you can be in love with many people at the same time.”

“I asked you how would that work.”

Their head tilts: “You’re being silly again.”

“I’m not silly!”

“But you’re being silly,” they reply, touching his nose with their lack of one.

He swats them away weakly: “I don’t like when you speak in riddles.”

Skull Kid hums something akin to a whine.

“I’m not speaking riddles,” they argue, and stand up to lean back on their heels. “You can be in love with many people at the same time.”

“But how!”

“Do you know how your body works?”

“... Kinda?”

“But you don’t know how all of it works. But it still does.”

Wind looks at them as they crouch to stand on their hands. He can barely understand them sometimes.

“So what?”

“So that’s how it works with being in love too, I think.”

They have very nice eyes.

Even if their head is upside down.

(How come their hat doesn’t fall and their clothes stay put? They make no sense. No sense at all.)

“I don’t really think, to be honest,” their copper voice stirs Wind from his musings. The hand they balance their entire body on slips, and they fall on their shoulders. “Mostly I just love.”

But nine people?

How do you find enough love for nine people?

How do you divide it so that all nine have enough?

How do you not play favorites?

Of course they play favorites. Their friend is their favorite. But he’s married, and also too old for them anyways (even though he did not use to be, and what Skull Kid sees in their head when they smell his scent might be better than any face his hands have described him), and Wind is not and he’s younger and the right height, like they always say, because when they hug him their arms rest on his shoulders instead of wrapping around his leg.

But... Nine people...

“And you love them all?” the sailor asks quietly.

The imp, still crumpled upside down where they lay, stares right at him as if they could really see him.

“Of course.”

Of course.

The night looks nice, when he turns away from them.

And for a long while, it’s quiet as well.

“I love you too, you know.”

Wind’s face burns to a crisp.

“What?” his voice nearly cracks.

“You said all of them, but I love you too,” Skull Kid repeats. Their legs rise up in the air, but they remaine curled like a shrimp: “I did tell you I’m in love with you, no? Because I am. It’s true.”

The teen fumbles with his hands, averts his eyes, anything to stop his ears from turning beet red from the reassurance: “I... I know,” he mumbles.

They show off their sharp teeth with a beautiful grin.

And Wind is so, so ablaze.

“Did-” the words jump around his mouth until he can finally somewhat arrange them as he pleases: “The others, did they...? Say, something? About...”

“They all said no,” they answer calmly.

He looks at them a little dumbfounded, watching them stretch their arms.

“And you’re... You’re not upset?”

“If they said no and also stopped being friends with me I think I would have cried,” the kid replies with disharming honesty.

They’re not... Serious...

“But they didn’t. So it’s fine.”

Are they?

Are they that lonely?

“Did your friend also say no?”

Why would he ask that? To make sure that he has no competition? It was stupid. Stupid. He should have said nothing. He should have shut up.

But Skull Kid turns toughtful: “He didn’t,” they note. “He said I’m his best friend.”

“Did he tell you he has a wife now?”

(This is jealousy. Is this jealousy? This is jealousy. He’s jealous. How can he be jealous? He should not be jealous. Time has a wife. A wife. And he’s an adult. He loves Skull Kid too much to hurt them in any way, let alone one so disgusting. He’s jealous for nothing. Nothing at all. There’s no reason to be. None. He can’t help being jealous. Why? Why should he? He’s picking a fight with the memory of a child he never met. This is so stupid. So horribly, horribly stupid.)

“Is she nice?” Skull Kid asks.

Their curiosity holds little malice.

(So they are jealous too?)

“She’s very nice.”

He can’t lie about that.

“I hope I meet her, then,” the imp murmurs as their knuckles tap on the wood. “If she’s very nice, then maybe we can be friends.”

(They are lonely. They are so lonely they forget to be jealous.)

Again, silence sweeps between them.

He could ask them if they want to change position, since they’re still upside down, but the waves gently crashing against the ship’s sides as if hushing sides make it hard to speak. So he focuses on the ocean breeze; on how it coats him in the vapors of saltwater and makes his hair all frizzy and crackly with salt. A chill runs up his arm; his hairs stand up as the skin turns to scales

Wind breathes in, breathes out. It’s quiet.

Skull Kid is also quiet when they speak again: “I forgot to ask.”

“Ask what?” the sailor replies, equally softly.

“Are you in love with me?”

If he had not caught himself in time there would now be a large, teen hero-shaped pancake on the ship’s pavement.

The imp does not seem to notice his worldless but not exactly silent panic, as they simply continue speaking: “Because all others told me if they were, and they all weren’t, but you didn’t say anything yet.”

It takes only a second, and his mouth, nose, throat, even his lungs become immediately clogged with both too much and absolutely nothing. The sounds he tries (wants?) to make fight to the death with each other between his vocal chords until they are no longer anything but a deafening silence screaming and pounding against his skull; he feels like shouting, like exploding, like melting, like sizzling into oblivion, like disappearing entirely, like denying, like accepting, like suffocating on the very air he breathes as if it was poisonous. He thinks, he thinks, he thinks so hard, he thinks so horribly terribly hard and there is nothing that comes to his mind in any possible way.

This is just too soon, far too soon, far far too soon for this.

He’s not old enough! He’s just a kid! Yet they are too, aren’t they? And even younger than him, and yet they are so sure of it, and he just...

(That treacherous backstabber that is his mind returns his eyes to the view of Tetra and Skull Kid dancing on the deck, his ears to the soft smirking complicity of Four’s words - “So, which one are you envying?” - his cheeks to the burning fever overtaking them, and he just...)

“I...”

Wind swallows.

“I don’t... Know.”

The passing second feels like seven interminable years.

Then a wooden hand holds his, and a copper voice says: “That’s fine.”

And he deflates.

He didn’t even know he was holding in a breath.

“When you find out you can tell me,” Skull Kid adds.

Wind hums absentmindedly, picking at his tunic. He’s still a nervous wreck when he clears his throat to ask: “And if... If I said yes, what would happen?”

“Hm!” Skull Kid throws their arms behind their back, cycling briefly through the air before letting their legs fall down again: “I think I would kiss you.” they answer so simply that the sailor nearly has a heart attack.

You could do that now if you wanted, he murmurs so quietly it’s barely a sound.

The other kid swings their body to stand back onto their feet. They turn around just as swiftly, the movement barely noticed as Wind still looks embarassed at his dangling feet - but he does notice the hands that lift his face, as even with how lightly they squeeze it it would be hard not to. He does not manage to ask what the big idea is, however, because the corner of his lips is pressed very lightly for a long, quick moment by the distinctly not-wood-not-flesh of a mouth that can’t quite be considered one.

Skull Kid smiles at him, brilliant amber eyes curved into half moons.

Wind says nothing, because frankly he is not sure if he can anymore.

“I’m climbing the mast,” the imp declares before leaving.

The words swim lazily through the air and into cotton-filled ears; Wind does not quite hear them over the crazed thrumming in his chest, nor does he realize he’s following them with his eyes wide open and his mouth slightly agape. His sight returns slowly, after a few blinks that make light eyelashes pat positively boiling skin, and still speechless he looks as Skull Kid struggles a little more before finally climbing the mast as nimble as a gecko.

By helping themselves with their teeth.

Leaving bites all over the wood.

If what he feels is love, it feels like awe, confusion, and mild mortification.

[h50europe]

Why the myth about Steve's PTSD doesn't add up and other inconsistencies

In the last few episodes of H50, PL tried to sell us a mentally broken Steve suffering from PTSD. Only the whole thing came a bit too late. The clip you see is from season 4 and ended up - no, not in the series - but somewhere on the floor of PL's editing room. And why? after Kurtzman and Orci departed, along with their writers, PL took the helm and started turning Steve into a super-soldier. He stylized him into something that wasn't meant to be. Instead of developing the characters, PL began to incorporate more and more hair-raising action sequences into the series and then let Steve fight on the front lines. There was no mention of Steve's mental state, and a lot was explained by PL with: it just happened "offscreen." Yeah, sure. PL can't create a decent character. He can only produce stereotypes and one-dimensional beings. Like Adam. What potential would that character have had had he been turned into Five-0's antagonist? But no. So his role remained diffuse and monotonous. Sometimes even tragicomical.

Back to Steve. When SEAL Team started on CBS, PL also lapsed into SEAL mania. If someone who writes fanfiction were to produce as much garbage as this man did, he would be chased away from every writers' platform in disgrace. PL's Super SEAL also had to rescue his team members from a blazing inferno. Not man by man, no, he flew a helicopter right into the danger zone and lifted a whole cabin out of the burning jungle. If lunacy had a name, it would be PL. While the action became more and more exaggerated and unrealistic, the same happened to the protagonists. After the departure of Daniel Dae Kim and Grace Park, PL completely lost his mind. And please, don't blame the writers for the nonsense that was thrown at you. A series stands and falls with the showrunner. He dictates what he wants and passes it on to his staff.

And so, lovable Steve became a soulless robot who only showed feelings here and there. Danny diminished more and more into a sidekick. McDanno became a ship that drifted anchorless through a stormy sea and threatened to capsize again and again. From season 8, it became a reboot of the reboot. PL tried an ensemble show and failed more than miserably. Often the actors just stood around bored. At least that was the impression. The only highlight was episode 8.10. A feast for all McDanno fans. But even here, the outcome of "who shot Danny" was more than insubstantial.

Wait, there was something about SEALs... Oh, yes. Junior appeared on the scene and became Steve's lapdog. I really wondered when there was going to be an episode where he would fetch sticks for Steve. Luckily we had Eddie for that. And because he thought he was so clever, PL invented the episode speed dating. How many subplots can you squeeze into one episode at the same time? In some episodes, you couldn't even take a look at the bag of potato chips without losing the thread.

The case of the week became the yawn of the week. There were so many loose ends that PL then came up with something called retconning. That's what you do when you're no longer satisfied with what was once established in the series years ago, or it no longer fits. But PL went one step further and did the same with the characters. The more the series was dragged out, the more the characters deteriorated and became OOC. It means, often, they were not recognizable at all. And that's where we come to Steve. Because PL, in his desperation, didn't know what else he could do to Steve, and so he killed Joe White. He did it in such a cheesy way with a fake sunset that it made you sick.

Of course, one episode later, there had to be another gig of PL's favorite Barbie. He stuck a fake beard on poor Steve/Alex, so he couldn't even hug Danny/Scott properly. The episode also raised more questions than it answered any. And Steve? He still didn't suffer from PTSD, even though he had now lost Joe White and a fellow SEAL. Everyone is dropping like flies, except for Steve, who is standing like a rock. No matter what. He doesn't need in-depth talks with Danny, nor psychological care, nor any sleeping pills. No, he's doing great. He also opens a restaurant with Danny because apparently, the carguments are already getting on PL's nerves. Unfortunately, this plot device leads into nirvana. The idea was nice, but nobody thought it through to the end. And the merry-go-round continues. Until we get to season 10, where it gets even more absurd. Now PL is almost bombarding us with McDanno episodes, or at least it should seem that way. Oh well, he's already planning for season 11, so a new character has to come on board quickly. While in the beginning, Steve's mother, Doris, dies.

Alex was allowed to take on the subject. Of course, only under the strict eyes of PL. He then nullifies Alex's idea that Steve kills his mother. Because a good soldier and Super SEAL won't do that. Little does PL know. THAT could have been the opening of a PTSD scenario for Steve. However, apart from that, this episode would have had any potential for a multi-arc. Just imagine Steve chasing his mother across multiple episodes. Again, PL stepped in and butchered Alex's episode. You can really feel sorry for the guy. PL at his best or worse? He just can't help it. And then, on the very last meters of the series, he brings someone new, who is allowed to cruise around with Steve most of the time. Because Danny was kidnapped by Wo Fat's widow, PL also invented quite late to have some villain at his disposal. This wannabe mastermind must really have been living under a rock somewhere if she wasn't even mentioned by her husband or appeared earlier.

Because towards the end, PL obviously ran out not only of steam but also of ideas, everything culminated in a wildly illogical scenario. Steve has to live through a dramatic day with Eddie, who stands as a metaphor for Steve (as I said, PTSD was never a thing for Super SEAL), Danny bangs his brains out in a ladies' room with a complete stranger, who dies shortly after that in an accident with Danny's rental car. Apparently, there was no budget to turn the Camaro into scrap metal. Danny then also goes home alone, ignoring the incoming emergency vehicles. Everything remains open at the end of the episode. While Steve expresses his gratitude to Tani and Quinn and says, he would be just as lost as poor Eddie without the dog and all of them. The strange thing is that you never notice anything until that sentence. A few forced dialogues are supposed to make the drama visible, but they all happen way too late or are so poorly written that you miss them.

PL had decided early on to make Steve a Teflon hero. That also means he didn't need to put much substance into the character. Which you can clearly see if you compare the first three seasons to the rest of the series. But towards the end, PL wanted to turn the tide and forcefully rewrote Steve's past. There is a huge difference if you compare Steve from seasons 1 to 3 with Steve from season 10. It is only a sparse remnant of what made this character so great. This change in Steve's personality also affects his relationship with Danny. The witty, affectionate banter degenerates into a snappy, humorless bitch-fest that takes all the joy out of it.

The final two episodes could have been written for any other crime show. As mentioned, we have Cole, who even gets a book'em Cole from Steve, which can only be described as out of line. And it begs the question, was that what Lenkov originally had in mind? Danny out of the show and Cole in? Was the last episode, which mainly featured McCole, something of a test run? Did all the McDanno moments happen only to tear the two apart eventually? Was the real final scene the one where Steve and Catherine take Danny's coffin back to Jersey? Was Danny not supposed to survive? Was that the real reason Steve wanted to get out of Hawaii because he wanted to pay his respects to Danny? And would he really have returned to Hawaii later? Or would he have turned his back on Hawaii? To me, this ending is more plausible than what PL served us. Then, Steve handed over his credentials to Cole instead of Danny, his second in command. Honestly, you can't make the end of a series any more sloppy and dumber than that. And I won't even lose a word about the last 1:30 minutes because I think everything has already been said.

No PL, mission absolutely not accomplished. You created Teflon-Steve. You never wanted him to show any weakness. You turned him into a superhuman who can survive anything. Only to pull the rug out from under him on the last few meters to the finish line and spit on his legacy. How can you dismantle such a great series and its characters like you did? How much do you have to hate something to do that? In the final interviews, the showrunner didn't exactly cover himself in glory either. Everyone who grew up with the series from day one knows that its end was wrong on all the possible levels and that the showrunner is solely to blame for that. It takes a fair amount of egoism and carelessness to drive 10 years at full throttle against the wall. Not many people can do that. Whether you can be proud of that, however, I doubt.

My respect if you have made it this far. Each of you gets 10 extra brownie points for it.

[howggswouldreact]

🏥 The Personification of Our Love | Kim Lip

Request: kim lip x reader where the reader is pregnant and goes into labor pls ~~~ love your blog ♡♡♡♡ Plot: Jungeun is waiting at the Hospital while Reader is in labor. Jungeun's mind flies to loving memories. Words: 2, 222 Genre: fluff, pregnancy Notes: i use to say "i loved writing this one" because i really do love writing things you all request me. and i loved writing this one. i love to write about things that involve family and friendship, etc. this one is the type to make my heart feel at peace... i hope you enjoy it and have a nice read! ♡♡

Maybe Jungeun shouldn't keep her eyes open for so long, without blinking. At least that's what Haseul was telling her all the time, but she wouldn't be aware of what her friend was saying until hours later, when the white doors were opened and a person wearing blue from head to toe told her that she was finally allowed to enter. For now, she had her hands cupped over her mouth, her feet tapping the floor in a frantic rhythm, her heart pumping blood like crazy.

Why couldn't things be like in the movies, where she could just have a camera filming everything that was going on in that room?

How was it going? How were you? And how was the baby? GOD, WAS THE BABY OKAY?

The movements of her feet accelerated even more and she felt the touch of a hand resting very cautiously on her knee.

"Stop doing that, you're looking like a maniac!", Hyejoo's voice, impatient and at the same time anxious, sounded beside Jungeun.

"I think I'm having a nervous breakdown.", she replied in a low voice, sweat forming on the corner of her forehead.

A huge, vibrant smile appeared in the blonde's vision and warm hands took hers, that were cold, in an affectionate squeeze. Jiwoo.

"How about if we go get something to eat? I'm sure there must be anything good in these machines full of food.”, said her longtime friend.

With a nod and letting Jiwoo guide her, Jungeun was pulled by the arm to a vending machine in the corner of the waiting room. While, in her mind, Jungeun was pulled for a few moments before what would be the greatest moment of her life (along with her wedding day, of course).

8 AM, same day

"Christ! It’s like I'm about to explode!", you said, putting your hand on your belly and feeling a twinge in your back.

"A beautiful, healthy child is going to appear from this explosion...", Jungeun started to speak, slowly approaching the bed, leaning on one knee and then the other. "And this child is very...", her hands landed on your belly, one of them over your right hand. "... very loved!"

"And we haven't even thought about the name of this beloved child yet."

You looked at her with a disapproving gaze.

"I don't want to decide anything right now because I think it will be more exciting to take this important decision when the time comes.", Jungeun shrugged without looking at you, she was very busy stroking your belly button.

"Maybe if you just let me..."

"Don't even think about it. This baby is mine too, you know?", the irritated tone disappeared from Jungeun's voice when her eyes met the playful glow of yours. She smiled.

"You know I would never make a decision like that without you, right?"

She nodded and lifted her body so she could kiss you, but there was a huge belly between the two of you - with a baby on the way in - and you started to laugh.

"Ahhhh!! So close yet so far!", dramatized Jungeun, as she lay down beside you and kissed your forehead and then your lips. "Now, close enough."

10 PM, the day before

"I still can't believe you chose this crackhead to be our baby's godmother...", you whispered to Jungeun, leaning on the doorframe while watching Jiwoo dancing some children's music and doing a super choreography in front of a camera.

Jungeun smiled at you.

"It's not like you didn't say 'oh, babe, I would never forgive you if I didn't choose Jiwoo to be our baby’s godmother', right?"

All the girls were there, they decided to have the first “Girls’ Pajama Party with the Baby” even before the baby was born. Not that you didn't love the idea, but to see Jiwoo carrying that camera everywhere was hilarious. You wouldn't miss an opportunity to make fun of it.

"You have to understand that I have hormones. Many! And they are crazy running back and forth, telling me what to do all the time! It's not like everything I say is valid while pregnant. Plus: I didn’t know she would do this Good Luck Charlie sort of thing."

With a mischievous look, Jungeun brought her face close to yours, smiling like a mischievous child.

"So it means that I am right deciding that the baby's one-year birthday should be Taeyeon-themed."

You gave her an angry look.

"I've been carrying our beautiful baby for nine months. If it were to honor someone on their one-year anniversary, it should be me."

A warm laugh from the bottom of Jungeun's heart filled your ears. She came over and wrapped her right arm around your waist while her left hand was over your protruding belly. None of you had reached such a full level of happiness like this before.

"Don't worry... Taeyeon won't be a party theme, I promise." she kissed your face. "It's so easy to annoy you lately. But there's no need to worry. The one-year anniversary theme will be Harry Potter, anyways."

You rolled your eyes trying to hide a smile. Jungeun noticed it. She always did. She smiled back and stroked your belly once more. It was difficult to know which of you two was most anxious for the family to be finally complete.

5 months ago

"Come on, say something very beautiful and with enough meaning, because then I will edit with a ballad song in the background."

Jiwoo was pointing the camera at you, whose lips were covered with doritos crumbs and ice cream, while Jungeun held up a jar of that same ice cream that you dipped the spoon from time to time.

"I can only think of how bizarre these mixtures become each month, I have no idea what beautiful things I can say.", Jungeun spoke while giving you a judgmental look. “I can’t believe my baby is eating… this.”

"Just say my name, so you will say one of the most beautiful things in the world.", you replied, raising your eyebrows as you dipped the tip of the doritos in the pistachio green and put it whole in your mouth.

"Grooooooss.", Jiwoo hummed as she turned the camera to her face. "I hope you don't have to deal with this often."

You two were at Heejin's apartment, decided to stop by as you were walking around the neighborhood looking for that ice cream flavor. Yeojin and Jiwoo went to meet you. This was yet another visit for the future "aunts" of the baby to come.

"I will definitely deal with them to keep you safe." Yeojin noted, beside Jiwoo and staring at the camera.

"Don't worry. We will protect you from anything that might negatively affect you, even if it means taking you away from these delinquents' arms." Heejin said, joining the other two.

"An army against us?", Jungeun asked as you put one of those doritos in her mouth.

They giggled. Another scene for the baby's life documentary, directed exclusively by Kim Jiwoo.

7 months ago

"Well... maybe we should... maybe we should buy baby things? Or set up the baby's room?", You suggested, astonished by the news that, finally, you were going to have a baby.

With the results of the exam in hands, Jungeun was very quiet on the way home. Parking the car in the garage of the building where you lived together, you waited for an answer to your questions.

Pregnant? Who knew you would be pregnant? Well, it was your dream two months ago. You both decided to make this dream come true. But it was a short while ago, actually. And you were not expecting a positive response so quickly. On the first try? Wow! This was really fast.

You noticed Jungeun's trembling hands and, now that you were pregnant, you would have a child of both of you, increasing the "family with our shape" because it's gonna be "the personification of your love", as the blonde said a few times. You wondered if she regretted it. After all, it would affect both your lives on a large scale, even though it was, at the moment, no more than the size of a bean.

"Look, I... I understand if you don't want to say anything. I will respect your space, but I thought it was our decision and..."

"Could you excuse me for a moment?", Jungeun said, in a whispering voice, and getting out of the car.

You understood that you shouldn't go after her and you were left with no reaction to her words. Meanwhile, outside the car, in the light of the vehicle's white headlights, the blonde of exuberant beauty and small body read the exam again, a growing smile on the pink lips that you loved to kiss so much.

Suddenly, to your shock, she let out a cry mixed with laughter and jumped in the air. It was as if, there, in that deserted garage and with you in the car, there was a space where Jungeun could celebrate it with vivacity. She was just so full of joy!

She was just as happy as you are, obviously! She just needed to find a place to outsource it, a moment when she could be free, a place where she could celebrate it!

Jungeun's hands held the test results as if they were holding the most precious thing in her life. And, somehow, it was.

You flashed the headlights in sync with her leaps and, watching her body turn to the car, her dark brown eyes staring into the glass, you knew what she would say and you both said at the same time, in a whisper only your hearts could hear.

"I love you."

Back to Present – 3 AM

Keeping a packet of m&m's in her jacket pocket, saving it for you to eat later, Jungeun finished eating a strawberry cereal bar, chewing slowly as the girls entered into a conversation to try to calm their spirits. In fact, everyone there was looking forward to you and the baby being well and being able to receive visitors as soon as possible.

Jinsoul told a story of her adolescence and the girls highlighted some parts, asked a few things and laughed. But Jungeun's mind was just a few feet from that waiting room.

Were you in pain? Was the baby finding the way out safely? Was the baby healthy? Were you okay?

She had no way of knowing. She went to the bathroom, the girls followed the blonde head with concern as she crossed the room to the door with a blue sign written "toilet".

When closing the door already inside the bathroom, every sound coming from outside was isolated. Jungeun turned the tap on and felt the cascade of water flowing through her fingers, finding some calm with that, since the only person who could give her the biggest amount of peace was in labor.

She washed her face and dried it with paper, stared at her reflection and realized she was pale. She would only regain color when she could finally see you and the baby.

She put her hand on the door handle again, turning it, and when she closed the door behind her, she noticed that all the girls were standing, staring at the beginning of the corridor. Her face turned in the same direction, where a nurse was standing still, noticed the movement of the woman's lips and the signal for her to follow her on a path. That woman would take Jungeun's to where her heart belonged.

"I wish you were with me... with us at the moment…", you whispered.

"The nurses didn't let me in, babe, but I'm here now..."

Jungeun was almost crouched beside the bed, her face close to yours. She reached up and stroked your cheekbones, touching your forehead with hers.

“How was it?”, she asked.

“It was like I was shitting a coconut.”

Her throat exploded with a pleasurable laugh, making you laugh along, even though you felt a lot of pain in your entire body. Tiredness was overwhelming you, but not enough to see your baby again.

"I only saw our baby for about 5 seconds and I was barely able to see that little face before they did the cleaning and exams."

Your voice was a whisper and Jungeun shook her head, as if she told you not to worry about it, and then she gave you a peck.

When the nurse came into the room and placed the baby in your arms, Jungeun was already crying. She never thought that your love could take on a human shape, so small, fragile and beautiful.

"Oh, God... I love you both so much..." she said, letting those strong tears run down her clean face as she bent down to kiss the top of the baby's head very gently.

That little body, with small hands, gripped her finger firmly and you knew that you would not let anything in the world do anything to destroy that purity. Jungeun felt the same way. Somehow, you knew that. You felt that. Perhaps because you had known her for a long time. Perhaps it was because of love. But you did knew. And she also knew that, whatever happened, her family would always be the homewhere your hearts could rest.

[gaemkyuu]

So...Boyfriend? Boyfriend.

Warnings: death of a loved one and grief. There is one mention to drinking a bottle of wine but all characters in the story are above the age of 21. A/N: this is based off a post @ah2113​ made a little while ago! I liked the idea and decided to write a cute fluffy piece on it! Hope you like it! “Reader and Charlie are best friends and they met on JATP. Charlie and the reader are in love with each other but don’t know. The readers grandma passes away and she calls Charlie, who is in a completely different state/country, in tears about the situation. Charlie feels horrible and completely drops everything he’s doing and immediately flies out to the reader and surprises them. He is with them throughout the whole viewing and funeral and meets her entire family. Everybody mistakens him for the readers boyfriend because of how much he is doing to help and tells the reader that he is clearly in love with them.”  Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life. 

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

So...Boyfriend? Boyfriend.

Bzzz. Bzzz.

Charlie was in the middle of an interview when his phone started vibrating. Normally he kept it on airplane mode, but today he forgot. He quickly reached for his phone and saw her name pop up on the screen, losing focus for a brief moment on the interview. 

“Pardon me? Could you repeat the question?” Charlie was trying so hard to focus on the interview at hand but knowing he was on the last question, made it all the more difficult to focus when he knew she was calling.

“Charlie, the fans want to know. Are you single?” he chuckled but since he was distracted, he didn’t give a really good answer.

“Kinda” he regretted it as soon as it left his mouth and the fact that he started blushing made the situation worse! Thankfully the interviewer didn’t press any further into the matter and made a casual joke about it. They quickly wrapped the interview knowing that Charlie had another one scheduled right afterwards, but he had a few minutes to make up a phone call.

Amelie had worked on set for season one of Julie as a hair and make up artist and shocked many at how talented she was for her age. She got along well with the cast and would often hang out with them on their days off, but for some reason she gravitated the most to Charlie. Everyone often teased them about the chemistry they had and how they would make a great couple but both of them would laugh at the comments and deny any feelings towards one another. They were simply nothing more but really good friends.

Or so they thought.

Amelie was head over heels for the brunette and Charlie for her. She loved his smile and enthusiasm for life. She admired his work ethic and passion for what he did. She would squash every thought about being with Charlie because he was too good for her. She liked the weirdest things and entertained people with the most random facts. She could spend hours in an art and fashion museum, when most people could only spend so much time. Amelie saw herself as weird and knew that Charlie saw her as nothing more than a friend.

The opposite was true. Charlie loved her quirkiness and nerdiness around the strangest things. He loved that she was always so modest and humble, even though she had all the right to brag at how amazing she was at her talents. He loved how she was always up for trying something new and that she had an eye for fashion, design and art, but he knew she didn’t see him as anything more than a friend. That still didn’t stop Charlie from always being there for her.

“Charlie?” her voice came out in a broken and quiet whisper. He could tell that she was crying and he instantly felt his stomach drop. A few sniffles came from the other line before the voice spoke again. “She’s gone Charlie... Grandmaman is gone...” he could hear her voice start to shake again.

“Say the word Amelie and I am there” Charlie glanced at his watch,8:55pm. He had five more minutes until the next interview with the pop culture podcast from Sydney. This meant that it was 5:00am in London, where Amelie was working on Netflix’s newest series. “Ams?”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just didn’t know who else to talk to...” she sniffled quietly not sure what else to say.

“What time are you leaving to get to set?” 8:57pm, he was running out of time. He saw the notification that the next interviewer had signed on to their zoom meeting.

“I gotta be on set at 7:00am so the van will be here to pick me up at 6:30am. It’s my last day on set, so there’s that” she sniffled again, feeling herself calm down with Charlie on the other line. She desperately needed him, but she couldn’t ask him that. He was doing press for season 2 of Julie and the Phantoms and he needed to be available, not off consoling his friend who was madly in love with him. 

“Amelie, listen, I have to jump onto the next interview, but try to get a little more sleep and drink some water. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done. When are you flying back?” Charlie felt awful having to hang up on her when he knew she needed him.

“I’ll be on the next flight out to Vancouver. Hopefully there’s a flight this evening back to Canada. My mom’s really upset and my siblings are rushing to get home for her” Amelie took a deep breath and listened to the frustrated sigh on the other end. He was probably annoyed that she called him. “Thank you for picking up Char”

“Anything for you Ams... I’m really sorry but I have to go now... If you’re busy when I call, can you let me know when you’re at the airport?” Amelie agreed and hung up the phone, flopping on the bed and a silent stream of tears falling from her eyes again. Meanwhile, Charlie sat in his LA bedroom, head in hands frustrated that he couldn’t be there for her.

***

Amelie watched out the window as the plane landed in Vancouver. She felt an anxiousness to get off the plane and be with her mom, but she knew she had to go through security and baggage. She didn’t notice that her leg was restlessly bouncing until the nice old lady beside her placed a hand on her lap. 

“Excited are we?” she smiled at her kindly and Amelie blushed, a little embarrassed. “I was once in love too. I get the feeling”

“Actually, I’m just anxious to be with my mom... My grandmother passed away yesterday and I wanna be there for her” the old lady’s smile changed to an empathetic one and she patted her knee.

“I’m sorry for your loss my dear... I lost my sister a year ago today. It is not an easy thing to grieve and I can tell that your soul feels heavy. You might want to think about sharing that load with someone” she smiled. A flight attendant interrupted their conversation letting them know that she had priority to leave the plane. The old woman then looked at Amelie and winked. “They’re letting us off the plane now honey. Thank you miss, but my daughter can grab my bags from the upper compartment, can’t she” baffled at the kindness of the old woman, Amelie dumbly nodded and stood to help her. As they made their way through the gate, an attendant was waiting for the old woman. “You can leave my bags with this gentle man” she smiled.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that” the old woman took her hand. “Your mother is fortunate to have you as a daughter. Now go and be with her” Amelie smiled and gave the old woman a hug, and teared up a bit remembering her own grandmother. Wiping away a tear, Amelie said thank you again and headed off to get her bags. To no surprise, getting her suitcase was a gong show because they had to share a lane with another flight. By the time she got there, tons of people waited right by the carousel for their bags, making Amelie stand in the back and tippy toe to see a glimpse of her bag. She was fortunate that a man had helped her as she squeezed her way to the front, waiting for her bag. With a deep breath, she exited the doors and dialed her mother.

“Hello? Maman? What car are you in? Oh wait! I see it!” Amelie quickly rushed outside of the door at YVR to get to her mother’s vehicle. She was able to find a flight that evening and she left right away. The flight was long, but she was able to make it home to her mother’s side in 24 hours. She trotted over to her mother’s vehicle that pulled into the loading zone, flashing their hazards on, her mother getting out of the passenger side. Amelie stopped for a moment, confused that her mother wasn’t driving the car. Her mother quickly embraced her in her arms and both of them shared a tearful hug. “Who’s driving maman?”

Charlie stepped out of the driver’s seat and took Amelie’s suitcase from her, as she stood there with her mouth open. “Surprise?” she immediately felt a sudden wave of emotion wash over her and she jumped into Charlie’s waiting arms crying as he held her tight. She felt sadness and happiness while grieving over her Grandmother and feeling elated at the sudden presence of the boy.

“How?” she sniffled and pulled away, wiping her tears.

“Charlie knew how sad you were over Grandmaman, so he texted me late last night and flew in early this morning” her mother explained. Amelie’s mother knew of her crush on the boy and always encouraged her to pursue the relationship further, but she always insisted to her mother that they would be nothing more than friends. Her mother would roll her eyes at her daughter every time she said that, knowing that the chemistry and the feelings were there, but the two were just too stubborn to admit it.

“That’s what friends are for right?” 

Right. Friends.

***

After being picked up at the airport, they went straight to her mother’s house and helped her mom plan out things for the funeral. Naturally, Charlie became the chauffer, driving Amelie and her mom around the city to make various appointments with funeral directors and lawyers. Amelie’s grandmother gave birth to five children and never remarried after her husband passed away. Amelie had very little recollection of her grandfather as he passed away when she was quite young. Each of her mother’s siblings had at least three kids and each child had at least three kids, making their family huge. That didn’t include her mother’s cousins and their families, all of which would be flying in to attend the funeral in two days time.

Running around was an emotionally exhausting task, not to mention the exhaustion that came with grief. The two women were grateful that Charlie was around for them that day as Amelie’s siblings slowly started to get into town. He ordered pizza for everyone, knowing that all of her siblings would be in Vancouver in time for the funeral. Her grandmother was clear that she wanted the viewing and funeral to be combined into one day, not wanting to prolong her burial process, something that they honored. But with that request, it meant a lot had to be done.

Amelie had four siblings, all of which were older than her, making her the baby of the family. Her brother Benoit had moved to New Brunswick to live with the love of his life Maxime, and he was the second to arrive. He had work to take care of and unfortunately Maxime couldn’t get the time off. Benoit got along very well with Charlie, connecting over Dieppe and how it differed from Fredericton where Benoit lived with his partner. Her twin sisters Rachelle and Rene got into Vancouver right before dinner and actually carried the pizza inside while Charlie paid. Both sisters lived in Toronto, one training on the Olympic figure skating team and the other working in Parliament. Throughout the night, they joked about how cute Charlie was and how they were both single and didn’t mind dating someone younger. This annoyed Amelie but she wouldn’t admit that to anyone. Her third oldest brother, Theo, was the last to arrive, getting in way past dinner but before midnight. He lived in New York pursuing photography and had to finish a shoot before he could come home. Hearing this, Charlie asked him multiple questions about photography when they sat around their mother’s fireplace that night. It was nice to be able to gather as a family before the craziness of their relatives. French Canadian families were big, loud and full of personality, but Amelie knew Charlie understood this dynamic very well.

The next two days passed by in a blur with Charlie helping out wherever he could and sometimes locking himself in her mother’s office to do an interview or meeting here and there. Amelie was so grateful for him because every time she felt overwhelmed or that she was going to cry, he somehow made it to her side, comforting her and helping her be strong. Rachelle and Rene kept telling her to claim Charlie before they did, but Amelie would always insist that they were friends. But when her brothers got involved, Amelie couldn’t help but think that maybe her siblings were right. Maybe she should ask Charlie out, but how could she do that when her entire family was still dealing with the loss of her grandmother?

Just last night, Charlie sat up late into the evening comforting Amelie as she put the slideshow together on her Macbook. She could hardly look at the pictures or listen to the music without tearing up and having mini cry sessions on his shoulder, something he took in stride. It also didn’t help that she had consumed an entire bottle of wine...

In all honesty, Charlie couldn’t be more happy to be by her side at this moment. He knew how hard it was to lose a loved one, especially since he lost his grandmother before filming season one of Julie and the Phantoms. Being here for her was important to him and he wanted to show her that she could always come to him. When she passed out on his shoulder that night, he thought about how badly he wanted to be with her as he tucked her in bed. He loved how she snuggled into his shoulder as he finished up the slide show and he loved that she reached out for him and called his name in her sleep as he walked away. He kissed your forehead goodnight and hated the fact that he couldn’t just call you his.

A soft knock at the door interrupted Amelie’s day dream of her grandmother. She wiped the tears that have unexpectedly fallen from her eyes and took a deep breath. “Come in” her voice was shakier than she wanted it to be, but relief washed over her when Charlie walked in wearing a black dress shirt and tie. He smiled empathetically to her and approached her with open arms, something she gladly accepted. She inhaled his scent, burying her face in his chest, while he rested his head on top of hers. 

“You ready?” Charlie held her tight as he asked this question. This would be the first and last time Amelie would be seeing her deceased grandmother.

“I should be asking you that question” she softly giggled. Charlie would be meeting all of her relatives today, including her annoying cousin Madeleine. 

“You forget that I too have a big family. It’ll be fine. Plus, I’m here for you and not them” Amelie pulled away from the hug to stare him in the eyes, silently figuring whether now was a time to discuss her feelings or not. In the end, she decided against it and smiled softly at him, which he returned.

“Thank you for being here Char... It really means a lot” he chuckled and pulled her close for a second hug, something she would never tire hearing.

“Anything for you Ams. Anything.”

***

The funeral and mass went according to plan and soon enough they found themselves in the church basement with a slide show of her grandmother playing in the background, while guests visited the pastries and beverages being served. Amelie was occupied with the many questions her aunts and uncles had about her career and how she was doing, but she couldn’t help but worry about Charlie. Throughout her conversations with her relatives, she watched Charlie help out her mother with the pastries and beverages, stopping once in a while to entertain the younger cousins at the children’s table. She smiled at him gratefully for helping out so much, but grew a little nervous when her nosy aunts and uncles pulled him aside and started interviewing him. It seemed like he was handling himself fine, but Amelie felt even more confident when he made eye contact with her and winked. 

“Well if it isn’t the Hollywood superstar.” Amelie could feel herself cringe at the sound of the voice. It was Madeline, Amelie’s cousin. They were the same age and same stature, but they couldn’t be more opposite. Madeline pursued modeling at a young age and still continued to do it, but for some reason, she always felt that everything was a competition. Amelie wanted to simply be cousins, but Madeline would take every opportunity to upstage her or show off to their aunts and uncles. Amelie didn’t really care, but the more she didn’t the more vicious Madeleine became. At one point in their lives, Madeleine had moved to Vancouver for more opportunities and ended up living with her family. This caused a lot of drama between the two of them, including Madeleine dating several of her exes and bringing them to family events.

“Hey Mads. Long time no see” Amelie forced herself to be nice and polite, even though she felt her cousin didn’t deserve it. Her black dress was a little too tight and a little too revealing for a funeral, but she wasn’t about to bring that up. “How have you been?”

“Oh you know, living it up in Paris, traveling all over Europe for different modeling jobs. It’s exhausting, but I’m sure you know of it” anyone could hear the sarcasm and apprehension in her voice. Her aunts awkwardly moved away, making up some excuse about visiting other family members so that they could catch up. “How does it feel to be working on a children’s show?”

“I mean, I love what I do, so I can’t complain” Amelie bit her tongue before she could say anything rude. She never understood why her cousin always felt the need to announce how much better she was over her.

“So... optimistic. What’s it feel like to settle?” she felt the blood rush to her face, starting to lose control of her emotions. This was not the place or time to have this conversation, yet Madeline persisted. She took a deep breath trying to level herself and forced a smile on her face. As she opened her mouth to reply, she felt a warm hand hug her lower back and the slight smell of cologne fill the air.

“Everything alright babe?” she blushed at the name and gesture from Charlie, who kissed the top of her head. Madeline flushed and her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Oh hi, I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Charlie” he reached out his hand towards Madeline, keeping the other wrapped around Amelie. 

“Madeline. It’s nice to meet you Charlie. You’re an actor from the show that she worked on, right? What are you doing here?” Amelie could hear the faintest trace of annoyance in her voice, and shook his hand. Charlie and Amelie looked at each other, a cocky smile on Charlie’s face and slight confusion on Amelie’s. 

“I’m her boyfriend and I came to support her. I’m sure you’ve been dealing with the grief as well and I couldn’t let her go through this alone” part of what Charlie said was true, but Amelie couldn’t help but blush at the mention of boyfriend. No one had actually asked Charlie if they were dating, but a lot of relatives were beating around the bush. Apparently Charlie had said that rather loudly and some of the relatives started gossiping in a hushed voice. 

“Wow Amelie. I didn’t know you had such good taste in men based on your past partners” Charlie laughed at the comment, something Madeline didn’t suspect.

“I wouldn’t say I’m good taste, but Ams if definitely a catch” he gloated and kissed her cheek, causing Amelie to blush furiously. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I actually came over because your mom needs some help” if there was one thing Amelie could count on, it would be Charlie’s ability to read a situation and get her out of it. “Shall we, my love?” she nodded and walked away from Madeline flushed and confused, but also really excited. He moved his hand from her back to her hand, softly dragging her away from the conversation.

“Boyfriend?” Amelie whispered to him, inferring the comments he made to Madeline. 

“I know she ruffles your feathers, so why not ruffle hers?” Benoit interrupted Charlie, asking him if he could help put some of the tables from upstairs away. “You’re mom’s in the kitchenette, you can probably hide there for a bit. I got you a plate of pastries that I stashed in the back” she thanked him and watched him walk away with her brother. Before she could take another step, Rachelle and Rene linked arms with her on either side and rushed her into the kitchenette.

“So you’re dating now?!” Rene questioned and before Amelie could answer, Rachelle interrupted her. “When were you going to tell us this?!”

“About time” her mother scoffed, stirring another jug of fruit punch. “Okay you two, leave your sister alone to breathe for a second. Take these pitchers out to the table and find Theo. Make sure Tante Genevive hasn’t stolen him for a private photoshoot for Facebook” Amelie was grateful that her mother shooed the twins off and passed her the plate that Charlie put aside. 

“Thanks Maman” her mother smiled smugly at her, moving about the kitchenette. “Please don’t say I told you so” her mother made the motion to zip her lips as she giddily made her way around the kitchen.

***

That evening, Amelie’s family stumbled through the front door of her mother’s house, everyone retiring to their rooms for a short moment of relaxation while their mother ordered take out for a late dinner. They had stayed behind to clean up with a few other relatives and put away the church tables and chairs. Charlie didn’t complain a single time and rushed to do whatever he could to help everyone out. Charlie followed Amelie up the stairs to her old bedroom and shut the door behind him as she plopped onto the bed. Part of Amelie did this was because she was tired, but the other part of her did it hopefully to avoid the conversation they were about to have. Charlie quietly sat beside her on the bed and played with her hair, something she absolutely loved.

“So, about today...” this conversation was happening whether she wanted it to or not.

“It was really nice of you to stand up for me but you didn’t have to. I have no problem telling my family it was a small misunderstanding. It should stop them from blabbering to the media” She sat up and Charlie looked incredulously at Amelie confused at what she was saying.

“Ams, I don’t think you get it” again, she interrupted him before he could continue.

“No I do, I get it. You’re an amazing friend Char and you didn’t have to risk the rumours for-” she didn’t complete the thought because Charlie’s lips were suddenly on hers and she completely melted into them. It was like this tension that she never acknowledged left her shoulders, making her feel like she was floating.

“Do you understand now?” he searched her eyes for some sort of confirmation. “I really like you Amelie and I’ve liked you for a long time, but I’ve always thought you wanted to be friends”

“I wanted to be friends?! I thought you friend zoned me first!” he gave her a look for interrupting him. “Sorry”

“Regardless of what happened, being with you here and helping you and your family throughout all of this made me want to be a part of your life so much more. I want to be more than your friend. I know this is a bad time to say this, but I don’t think I can keep pretending that I don’t want to be with you” he held her hand in his and drew nearer to her again. “I really want to be with you if you’ll have me”

She closed the gap between the two of them and kissed him this time, something which Charlie gladly accepted. The two shared a simple but passionate kiss, as if they were confessing two years of secret feelings to each other. A bang at the door startled them.

“Put your pants on! Maman wants you guys to go pick up the take out!” Benoit yelled from behind the door. The two flushed at the comment and heard the snickers and giggles from the other siblings.

“So...boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend.”

[tainted-wine]

Evil Demonic Music

Priest!Reader X Demon!Present Mic

Hizashi has a large and filling feast on every Halloween night. He’s been doing it since before you were born. Yet here you are crashing his party while smelling like fresh meat in a den of wolves. It’s entirely your fault for throwing off his groove.

Disclaimer: Reader is more reminiscent of an action priest in a gothic action movie or anime. There’s little to no accuracy here. Lightning will most likely strike me the next time I venture outside.

Words: 7.9k

Warnings: Noncon/Dubcon, Christian Themes, Possession/Mind Control, Orgy, Public Sex, Sorta Corruption, Downer Ending

🎃👻🎃HAPPY LATE HALLOWEEN, EVERYONE!🎃👻🎃

------------x------------

Yuuei Club Presents “Dance With The Devil” Halloween Event LIVE Music by Present Mic Costumes Encouraged // Doors Open at 8 p.m.

It looked innocent enough; a graphical poster on the door of a building surrounded by smaller businesses in the outlet. It masked itself well in the daytime with its plain exterior, devoid of any attractive decorations save for the club’s name that glowed in hypnotizing neon when night falls. All of its temptations were contained inside, dormant until it was filled with careless souls seeking unholy pleasures.

You didn’t hate them for it. The temptation to sin is strong. It’s how evil thrives, and the average person lacks the strength to resist. It’s your duty to protect all people, even the faithless, from evil’s many devices. 

Like this nightclub.

Party locations like these were an uncommon feeding ground, although now that you think about it, the muddled and vulnerable minds residing within should make for easy meals. The loud and nonsensical “music” and absolute lack of restraint that the people displayed was baffling, but your task is to guard souls, not convert and guide them back to Heaven’s path. One demon in particular, however, favored ‘party animals’ more than any other creature from the vile depths.

“Easy there! You glare at this place any harder and it might combust!”

To the average human, the monster that appears beside you is nothing more than a tall blonde man with an inviting smile, but he can’t hide himself from the blessed and perceptive. Beneath the guise of spice and incense, he reeks of smoke and brimstone.

Hizashi, as he called himself, will never fool you.

“Stay back,” spit nearly flies from how harshly you say the words. You know that he can’t harm you, not while you wear your cross around your neck and calmly hold thoughts of your Lord in your mind. Still, you warn the dangerous fiend to keep his distance.

He obeys and innocently raises his hands. “Hey hey, you know I’m not out to hurt you, and you’re not gonna pull anything with that crafty little weapon there, right?”

No, you weren’t going to take a stab at him with the blade hidden in your holy necklace. You tried it before, an attempt to drive it into his back when he wasn’t looking. His hand caught your wrist at a speed you couldn’t comprehend – you were certain that you didn’t blink, yet you didn’t even see him move at all. His friendly smile didn’t waver, not a hint of anger visible on his face.

“Careful, baby priest! Don’t mean to sound cocky, but I’m way out of your league.” The warning wasn’t in his words, but in the heat of Hell itself that briefly washed over you, a sensation so powerful and real that you feared you were being dragged down that very instant. But the unseen flames died off the second he released your hand, eyes flashing a bloody red before returning to their usual emerald hues.

That was the first and only time you tried to banish him.

“I don’t trust you, but I’m not stupid,” was your answer, making sure not to let your hatred and disgust cloud your mind. He might take hold of that.

It was a satisfactory response, going by his bright beam of a smile. So friendly and inviting.

Months had passed when you finally accepted that he was a demon who genuinely enjoyed living alongside humans. He never spoke ill of your fellow men and commended them for their many ways of enjoying their short lives. Most demons you’ve dealt with favor negative emotions. Fear, sorrow, anger… those cold and bitter feelings attracted hellbeasts like flies to honey. 

But this one? He fed on mortals that were as cheerful and carefree as him. All of this still wasn’t enough to convince you that he is truly gentle, however.

Hizashi stayed where he was, staring at his own promotional poster. The urge to leave was almost overwhelming, but you couldn’t let him know how much he unnerved you with just his presence alone. Instead, you shuffle awkwardly and try not to utter prayers of protection. Whether or not that will anger him is something you don’t want to find out.

He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Are you pumped for the best night of the year? Man, Halloween never gets old for me, especially in this day and age. Everyone dancing while dressed like a bunch of monsters...it’s almost like I’m at home! Humans sure know how to party like tomorrow is The Cleansing.”

“Yes, and it’s shameful,” you humor him. “I have no interest in debauchery.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s called having a good time, babe. Put the tome down and loosen up every once in a while.”

Put down the tome?

Loosen up?

Babe?

How dare he make you even entertain the thought of abandoning your teachings. You just know he’s trying to rile you up, to make you lose control. You won’t let him have his way. “I have my good times in moderation, on days when I praise God with my brothers and sisters with a glass of wine. There is discipline in everything, even celebration. Heathens simply get drunk and lose themselves in the madness.”

The demon chuckled as he ran his fingers through long golden locks. Just the beautiful sheen of his hair could probably attract the greedy. “Yep. Times sure do change, don’t they?”

“They don’t just change, they’re desecrated. What was once a day to ward off evil spirits now does the exact opposite. They’re too busy with their consumerism, candy, haunted houses…”

“Oh yeah, those haunted attractions are wild. So many of my buddies gorge themselves there. Free fear for the taking, ya dig?”

Despicable.

“And you don’t?” You test him. He was a conversationalist; a few probing questions won’t bother him, surely.

He withdraws his phone, scrolling through the screen for something. “Come on, you know me by now, don’t you? That sour stuff isn’t for me.”

“Forgive me for still struggling to trust you.” Sarcasm felt too risky, actually. You won’t use it again.

“Heh, no offense taken! You priests know just how cruel we can be sometimes. Mortals learned from the best, after all.”

Your lips twitch. His curve into a more wicked grin.

Every single passerby can’t seem to resist giving you odd looks. You can feel the eyes behind you as people make their way around the shops. Your garb wasn’t that strange; they’re acting like they’ve never seen a person in a robe and wearing several divine artifacts before. They would too if they knew what Hizashi was, who has yet to garner a single look of suspicion.

Ridiculous, his casual getup is actually fooling them. Perhaps the silly villainous mustache wasn’t big enough to give him away.

“Ah, here it is!” You nearly jumped from his voice and how quickly he leaned in, a video playing on his phone. “Just tap on the screen to play it an-”

“I know how to use a phone,” You hiss, taking the device from his hand and shooting him a glance every few seconds in case he tried something. 

The video was chaos, an unsteady view of flashing lights and thumping heavy beats. Whoever held it was smack dab in the middle of an energetic crowd that sang and danced like barbaric animals. It was an orgy of overindulgence. Too much drinking with their comically shaped cups and bottles, too much lust in their crude excuse of a dance, and synthetic drums that dragged on for so damn long, even the beat sounded drunk. It’s not the first time you heard the horrid noise; it unfortunately appears to be popular among the masses. 

God help these poor souls.

“Last year’s party.” Hizashi’s words cut through your thoughts. “Pretty hype, huh? Nothing gets my listeners goin’ like a hard trap beat!”

Oh? So he’s fully admitting it now? “So you’re calling it what it is, are you? Trapping them with your satanic melodies?”

The confusion on his face was very convincing, but you knew better. “What? No, that’s what the music is called.” 

You couldn’t help but snort. “Please, demon. What do you think sounds more believable: A genre of music with such a simplistic and misleading name, or evil tunes that your kind uses to ensnare unassuming mortals that don’t know any better?”

“....um…”

“I thought so.” To think that he’d slip up so easily. He wasn’t as clever as he thought. “Tell me what happened to the people in this video. Are they alive? Or did you drain them until they were nothing more than lifeless husks?”

There was a snicker behind you. Both you and Hizashi turned around to see a young man holding his phone up with an amused smile, giving a little wave after being noticed. “Sorry,” he didn’t sound sorry at all. “I really like your costume, miss. Your acting is awesome, too.” With that, he put away his phone and whatever images he now has of you and continued on his merry way.

Impertinent juveniles.

“Anyway, they’re all fine,” Hizashi said, eyes returning to the door while tapping his feet to a beat you can’t hear. “I know how to feed without causing any serious harm. Even if I do go a little overboard, they’ll just brush it off as having too much to drink.”

“It doesn’t matter how good you are at controlling yourself. You’re an evil entity invading human minds.” It takes every bit of strength to not flinch when he looks at you. Again, there’s no anger – there’s never anger with him – and it makes you all the more uneasy. Maybe a being as ancient and influential as him doesn’t find a novice exorcisor like you worth getting angry or even annoyed over. “Your stench will remain on those people forever, attracting more of your kind to them unless someone like me finds and cleanses them.”

He shrugs and rubs at the back of his neck. “Come on, your boy is doing his best here. What do you want me to do? Starve?” He considers what he just said for a moment before laughing. “Nevermind, don’t answer that. Look, I ain’t leaving the stage, little priest. I’m addicted. The noise, the energy, the way everyone just loses themselves in all of it.”

The way his tongue peeks out to swipe over his upper lip has every hair on your skin sticking up.

“Man, I wish they knew just how sweet their own essence is when they’re caught up in the lights and music. Sweeter than any candy the kids will be bringing home tonight.”

He compares consuming pieces of a soul to children’s treats. “You’re really not helping your case,” you remark.

Another shrug. “C’mon, you say that like I actually have a chance at winning with you! I won’t hurt anyone in there. You have my word.”

You scoffed. “A demon’s word is-”

“Worthless, I know. See what I mean?” He withdrew a ring of keys out of his pocket. “Welp, I think we’ve stood here and stared at the door long enough. I gotta prep for the big night. Thanks for the company!” A few more seconds pass when he finds the right key and opens the entrance to the club. 

You didn’t follow him inside. That would be careless.

Now it’s only you observing the building that will soon hold a giant living feast for the hungry monster. After another passing compliment about your “cool and authentic costume”, you figured you’ve stood around long enough. It was time to head home.

And find a way to keep everyone safe.

He was right; you have no way of getting rid of him yourself. That doesn’t mean you’ll stand by while knowing what danger these people will be walking into when night arrives. You’re not afraid to put your life on the line if it means protecting His children from the many evils on earth. When the first step of your plan takes root in your head, you change routes and make your way to the nearest costume shop.

Hizashi won’t be having his fill tonight.

---------------------------------------------------------------

8:30 p.m.

You weren’t expecting to encounter two demons tonight.

Well, perhaps that term isn’t appropriate. There is no sort of aura attached to the dark-haired man that you can trace back to the pits of Hell, but he is undoubtedly a creature of evil. One that was birthed from the shadows, living for eternity by lurking in darkness and drinking the blood of any unfortunate mortal that catches his eye.

“I knew it. I knew someone so close to Hizashi couldn’t be human.”

The vampire at the lively club’s entrance didn’t seem fazed by your accusation. He wasn’t even hiding himself. The sly bloodsucker knows that his crimson irises and enlarged fangs will be mistaken for prosthetics. Very convincing prosthetics.

“Nice to see you too,” he deadpans. 

You’re getting a little tired of these beasts brushing you off. “So what’s your feeding plan here? Waiting to find an innocent maiden who wishes to see the sinful wonders inside, then take her to the back and drain her dry?”

“Like you?” The smirk doesn’t reveal any teeth, but his predatory eyes are enough to make you step back and grip the cross that still hangs around your neck. Your reaction makes him chuckle darkly before he returns to his regular disinterested self. “I already ate.” That monster. “I’m here because Hizashi thought I’d make for good security.”

“So you intend to drink from anyone that steps out of line?”

“No.”

“Lies. Look here, vampire…”

“My name is Shouta.”

“...You and your friend won’t be preying on these naive humans for much longer. He told me about his trap music, but I won’t let his songs bewitch anyone tonight.”

He stared at you, one eyebrow quirked high up. “Alright...can you give me your hand already? There’s a line growing behind you.”

You look over your shoulder, and there is indeed a line of disgruntled people dressed as various monsters and characters. You have to admit that their costumes look to be of higher quality than the angel outfit you hastily bought in the store’s clearance section. The fuzzy headband for your halo was itchy and your flimsy wings were on the verge of falling off with every sudden movement.

With a glare that messaged him not to try anything, you cautiously extended your arm. He took your hand in his – deathly cold – and wrapped a thin paper tag around your wrist. “Have fun.” 

You always hate it when you can’t read their smiles.

The suffocating darkness around him was lifted when you made your way to the same doors you were looking at with so much contempt this morning. Glancing back, you saw others happily complimenting his ‘spooky’ appearance, to which he responded with either a quick thanks or a grunt. None of them seemed to notice his chilling aura or ice-cold touch.

Why must they be so blind to the evils that walk beside them everyday?

When you stepped in, the music nearly blasted you back outside. So loud, but not like the angelic choirs during gospel. You didn’t feel lifted, you just felt bombarded by pure noise. A repetitive tempo made the entire building pulse like a heartbeat. This didn’t sound like the music Hizashi supposedly used to put the crowd under a spell. It just repeated the same forsaken beat over and over again. Perhaps the repetition is meant to ease the victim’s mind and lure them in a false sense of security, then those long rolling beats will come in next, ensnaring them when their guard is down. Clever, but not clever enough.

You passed the lounge and bar area, paying no mind to the lecherous behavior around you. Boisterous laughs, alcohol being carelessly chugged…

“Hey there, angel.” A man dressed as a superhero nearly tripped over his own cape in his attempt to approach you. “You as innocent as you look? I can introduce you to the boUUUURP.” The sudden belch burned your poor eyes with the stinging smell of rum.

Lord have mercy on both you and these savages.

“No thank you,” you said through gritted teeth and brushed past him. The lights and colors are disorienting. Strobe lights, spotlights whizzing across the walls and floor, and vibrant ever-changing shapes on every surface. The intoxicated folk probably welcomed the flashing chaos. When you drink at the church, your sips stay modest and controlled, ensuring to never reach the stage of drunkenness. If you were feeling ‘buzzed’, as they would say, this musical and optical discourse would likely feel pleasant, like entering a world devoid of rules and consequences.

Also known as a world of sin.

A huge mass of bouncing bodies covered the dancefloor, and there on an elevated platform, acting as an advanced musical throne, was the evil orchestrator of the chaos.

And those long curved obsidian horns were most definitely real.

Even as he tampered with the many buttons and dials before him, Hizashi moved as wildly as his prey, too caught up in his own infernal electronic hymns to even notice your presence. Surely your chaste energy sticks out among these wrongdoers like a dove in a pit of serpents.

You need to activate your blessing before he eats. Good thing the vampire didn’t bother to inspect your costume for any natural evil repellents that you happened to be carrying.

Your self-made pockets were filled with sage and rosemary, common herbs used to drive away demons and spirits. You sprinkle them onto the floor as you continue to make your way to the center, where your power will work most efficiently.  Hopefully their scent will not be overpowered by the sweaty bodies and breaths laced with alcohol of all kinds.

Pushing through the dancing crowd was an arduous task. The music had since switched to something faster and more aggressive. The hectic sounds in this one was making you miss the boring but calmer tunes from before. You never considered what the sound of a robot vomiting would sound like, but it would probably sound similar to the cacophony of ‘whirs’ and ‘wubs’ that were assaulting your ears.

The mass was pushing and tossing you every which way. The variety of masks and makeup beneath the constant moving lights was rather frightening. Of course, you’ve dealt with plenty of real monsters, but it disturbed you to see your fellow man acting in such a frenzied matter in such a perplexing setting. You can see why Hizashi adored this environment. You couldn’t tell the difference between man and beast.

Straightening your halo, you decide that this spot will fare well enough.

Now it was time to apply holy water around your feet. Just a few drops of the blessed fluid will be enough to protect everyone here.

You close your eyes, ignore the many bodies bumping against you, and pray.

O Lord, protect me from temptation.

The water trickles out before you.

O Lord, forgive those who have been led astray.

“WOOOO SHIT! THIS IS MY JAM!”

The nearby exclamation makes your eyebrow twitch.

For we know that your power is greater than any evil.

The song is deafening, but you keep going.

Grant, O Lord, the protection fro-

Someone violently collides into you, knocking the bottle right out of your hands and rolling away to disappear behind the wall of stomping shoes.

Shit! Forgive my language, Father!

You elbow the fools blocking your way, ignoring the occasional “hey” or “watch it” during your desperate search for the most important tool against evil influences.

You didn’t even finish your prayer. You need to at least do that first, before it’s too late. Clapping your hands together, you shut your eyes again and moved your lips rapidly.

OLordprotectmefromtemptationOLordforgivetosewhohavebeenledastrayforweknowthatyourpowerisgreaterthanany-

“HERE COMES THE DROP!”

The rhythm and bass changed drastically, and with it came a powerful wave of raw exhilaration.

It’s like a force was injecting every positive chemical directly into your bloodstream. The abundance of newfound energy needed to be released, just like the tension that was released from that beat drop.

Your hips are swaying in a way you’ve never moved them before, and you can’t make them stop.

Stop! Stop, please! This is his doing!

“How are my listeners doin’ tonight?!”

The demon’s voice booms through the speakers, seeping into your ears and filling you with so much excitement that you can’t help but cheer with everyone else. Your senses feel simultaneously enhanced and dulled. The humans around you were out of focus, but the diabolical DJ up ahead was so clear, it’s like you were right in front of him. The hunger in his currently red eyes struck fear in you even as you danced.

“Woo, I’m lovin’ this energy! Thanks for coming by this Halloween, ya little monsters! Now...bring this house down!”

Your heart accelerates from the rush and you begin to jump in sync with the possessed crowd. Even the people standing by or sitting at the bars couldn’t resist, joining the growing horde on the dancefloor to jump in unison. 

It was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Not a care in the world. No customs, no praise. It didn’t give you that warm feeling of ascension. Instead you just felt...liberated.

No!

Struggling in the demon’s grip, you cleared your thoughts just enough to try to calm yourself and regain control.

Utter a prayer. Hurry. Focus. You need His protection.

‘Baby priest? Is that you?’

That is not the mighty entity you wanted to hear. The voice echoes in your head, impossible to escape. When your eyes open, you see that above the vast sea of faces, Hizashi is staring right at you. 

‘I thought the dancefloor smelled a little weird! I was so busy feelin’ the beat that I almost missed you!’  You watched him laugh as he continued to violate your mind. Damn him. Wasn’t possessing you cruel enough? ‘Please, no prayers when I’m about to dig in. That’s gonna leave a bad taste in my mouth. Just keep groovin’ like everyone else!”

Your limbs obeyed without your consent and followed the rhythm. This didn’t even sound like the music you heard in the video. Were you just foolish in thinking that he only used one specific sound to trap his victims?

With another change in the bassline, a heavier weight invaded, reaching right into the depths of your heart and tugging at your very soul. You know that fear will only make you more defenseless, but there was no fighting the terror that overtook you.

Not when a demon was feeding from you.

Your brain clashed with itself. You had to keep fighting, even as he stole a fragment of what your gracious Heavenly Father had gifted you and every human, but the cheerful voices implanted in your mind begged you to stop worrying and just give in already.

There was no stopping your movements or the unending rush that surged as strongly as the music. Only now, as he completely ignored your holy safety measures and tainted your soul as easily as the oblivious heathens surrounding you, did you fully understand just how great the differences in power between him and you were.

‘Whoa...holy shit.’

The breathless moan in your head made you shudder. 

‘I haven’t tasted a human as pure as you in ages.’ 

“Please! You’ve already fed from me!” You scream out loud as the mob revels in the thrilling sensation of having a part of them sucked away. Your voice is drowned out by the music and shouts, yet you know that the horrid fiend can hear you loud and clear. “Just get out of my head!”

The dancing stops.

The music stops.

Everything stops.

It’s relieving to finally let your body rest from the forced celebration. The lights still flash and move in the dead silence. Every single person in all of their costumed glory turns and pins you with a sharp glare. Their eyes were unfocused and glazed over, consciousness elsewhere. Hizashi was in full control of all of them.

The demon himself looked down at you, no longer wearing his usual friendly and carefree smile. He was now showing the more twisted happiness you were used to seeing on his kind.

Crazed and eager to devour.

He spoke into the microphone on his headset, voice low and eerily calm. “Angel, you can’t just give me a sample of a five-star meal and expect me to not want more.”

The dread threatens to make you faint.

“Hey, none of that!” He laughs and switches back to his cheery tone. “I told you the negative emotions aren’t for me. I mean, a lady as sweet as you is gonna taste delicious either way. Why don’t you come on up here?”

You didn’t want to. You wanted to flee from this entire situation that you foolishly believed you were ready for. You thought you could sneak into this age-old creature’s gathering and force him to go hungry for the night.

Cockiness treads horribly close to pride, and pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

You clearly didn’t have a say in the matter, what with your feet moving forward on their own. Every individual in front of you stepped aside to create a clear path from you to Hizashi’s platform. Their eyes never left, heads slowly turning as they watched you slowly climb the steps with legs that trembled from your resistance.

As he stood tall clad in leather behind the large mixer table, you noticed along with his sturdy horns, he also sported a black pointed tail that lazily swayed behind him. And his stench...the foul smell that would often make you crinkle your nose was replaced with a pleasing fragrance, like a sweet and fruity beverage. It was undoubtedly the work of his spell; everything about him has suddenly become tempting.

At this point you were wishing for the music to return so that you couldn’t hear your thunderous heartbeat as you stopped right in front of him. His hellish eyes observed you from head to toe, holding his chin between his fingers before shaking his head and smirking.

“Ya really couldn’t find a better costume?” He snickered as he got closer and fiddled with your cheaply-made gown. You avoided looking directly into his eyes, afraid of falling into the blood-red depths and never finding your way back out.  “Or do you priests work on a budget?” He pauses when he notices the contents in your pockets. “Oh?” A hand is shoved inside and pulls out a handful of herbs.

“Aww gross! Sneakin’ herbs into the joint?” He winces from the smell before tossing them aside, leaving them to scatter into the unmoving group below.

How? His reaction should have been much stronger…

“Not that this stuff really works when I’m vibin’ in my element, but I’m hurt! I thought we had some trust!” He pinches your cheek, knowing that you’re unable to pull away. “And I thought you knew that I was way out of your league. You’re gonna need the big guns if you plan on keeping me away from my food.” The breath blowing into your face is abnormally hot.

There’s a layer of something otherworldly hidden in his tone whenever he emphasizes his words, like a filter poorly attempting to cover up a monster’s true guttural voice. 

But once again, he switches back to normal, which does nothing to calm you. “But I’m not gonna get mad at some rookie that doesn’t know better, especially one as tasty as you!” Twirling around, he pushes a few buttons on the table that you didn’t even know where to begin to figure out. 

“Sorry about the interruption, listeners!” He says to the crowd, cruelly acting like they have any ability to respond. They continue to stare blankly. “I hope you don’t mind if I switch things up a bit. Your boy is gonna be a little preoccupied during the next few tracks.”

The deafening silence is lifted with the start of a new song, and the people suddenly spring back to life, completely unaware of the mindless state they were in. Their only goal was to keep partying.

Your body was moving again as well, this time bobbing gently to the double and triple beats and low frequencies that vibrate through the floor and up your spine.

This...this was the type of melody you feared, and yet it didn’t affect you any more than the other songs. All of them were traps.

The only way you can think of fighting back is by filling your head with songs of praise. Keep your Lord in your thoughts. He will protect you.

“Tsk...angel, that stuff doesn’t work when I, ya know, already ate a piece of you.” His face tightened from hearing just a few seconds of the holy song in your head. “I told you, ya gotta loosen up a bit. You’re already dancing better than I thought you would!”

He paid no attention to his other prey, instead admiring your simple but energetic movements.

Then he began to move as well, shoulders doing a slow shimmy and following each of your steps with his own, moving closer and closer until he was able to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you in.

He’s warm. Not burning or emitting an aura of terrifying darkness. The music suddenly feels softer, easing your fears. Like an intimate embrace. 

“There, it’s not so bad, is it?” He says lowly, lips almost touching your face. “Quit thinking about your big daddy for once.”

You want to protest against the disrespectful nickname for your God, but he predicts your reaction and tightens his hold on your spirit.

“You taste so damn incredible right now, don’t mess it up,” he groans and savors you. With every part of you that is consumed, it becomes harder to resist. It would be so easy to just hold onto him and keep swaying like this, rocking back and forth as his hips press against yours, grinding into you.

The unfamiliar sensation startles you, but Hizashi shuts down your panic with a growl. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’ve forgotten.” he murmurs into your shoulder, breathing deeply to take in your scent. “I’ve been so hooked on the party life that I forgot just how heavenly innocents like you taste. To think that I’d have an actual priest dancing with me, tasting that revelry from such a pure source...pardon my blasphemy, but goddamn.”

You’re swimming through the fiery haze clouding your mind, clawing against it in a desperate search for an opening. But with every beat, the haze thickens and you sink further in.

You couldn’t find the light. No salvation.

More sinful feelings assault you from the friction of his groin against yours, a growing bulge rubbing on your most sacred area. It sends a foreign tingle down there.

“Ooooh, don’t think I can’t feel that, baby” he rasps, holding you so closely in a dance fitting for two lovers. “I can sense everything now that you’ve let me in.”

That angers you enough to find your voice again, just barely. “I didn’t let you in...” You tense from another hard grind. “Foul...beast.”

“Are you sure? You’re giving in pretty easily. It’s nothin’ to feel bad about, I promise. Humans aren’t built to resist life’s basic needs, so I don’t know why the big man in the clouds gets so wound up about it all the time.” 

How dare he.

“Damned snake!” You force your hands to beat against him and push him off. “You will not corrupt me with the Devil’s words!”

He’s actually shocked for a moment, even to your own surprise, but he laughs it off. “Geez, my bad! I guess you are pretty persistent. Must be…” He grabs the cross around your neck, ignoring your horrified gasp. “...this.”

With a sharp yank and a pinch at the back of your neck, your one remaining object of holy protection is removed.

And with its loss, his influence completely overpowers you. The clearness of your senses switches on and off.

The music is muffled. It’s too loud.

The roaming lights are blurry. Too bright.

Are you still moving? Or is your body too heavy?

“It stings a bit, but that little thing can’t do much when the wearer’s already under my control.” An unfocused image of the demon tossing your precious necklace over his shoulder, the necklace you’ve held close to you since the day you first stepped into the cathedral and accepted your role as a righteous defender of man.

Your essence is now being stolen so quickly that it makes you shiver. He shouldn’t be taking this much.

“Mmm, I can’t get enough of this,” Teeth that are too sharp brush against your neck, threatening to pierce your skin. “I’m an old guy, ya know. I’ve done a lot of experimenting over the centuries, to see what I’m into.”

There’s a rip, and your gown is being pulled down along with your wings. It only relieves you from the growing heat of your surroundings.

“Y’see, our daddy isn’t a helicopter parent. He brings us into the world and just...lets us decide what to do. So no, my words ain’t the Devil’s words. They’re just mine, honey. I live for myself.”

Tilting your head, he presses his lips against your throat, making your breath hitch. No, your body is sacred. Don’t let him do this to you.

You don’t even know when the music had changed, but you’ve noticed the club was filled with a synthetic ambiance, the colors switching to magenta and cyan. 

The party demon is so captivated by you that he doesn’t even acknowledge the change in tune. “I used to stalk the depressed. Wasn’t worth it, they were too bland.” He peppers kisses down to your collarbone. “I tormented scared paranoid folk. Fun, but it loses its flavor fast.”

Your bra is removed to expose your breasts to him and the entire populace within the building. Your heart races, but the synths don’t stop seeping into your ears, the bliss wrestling with your fear. 

“Shh, don’t freak out. I’ll make sure everyone forgets everything that happened tonight.” He attempts to reassure you while massaging your newly revealed mounds. “So time went on as I treated my palate to different tastes. Wasn’t long before I realized my favorite vibes were the good ones. Festivals, games, a few buddies hangin’ out,” he lowered himself and flicked your nipple with his tongue. “Or a couple fucking, I ate all of it up. And after a while I decided that I just liked people in general.”

The pleasure felt when your breast is engulfed by the heat of his mouth is shameful. Hizashi moaned at your taste, though you weren’t sure if it was the taste of your flesh or your lust that was exciting him.

“I liked it when humans were having good times, so I figured out how to join in on the fun and damn, how do you guys keep finding new ways to rock out? The prudes keep droning on about how my favorite type of people have lost their way, but I think they’re the ones who found paradise, and they’re not even dead yet!” After nursing on both of your breasts, he rises and grabs your face to turn it toward the crowd. “I mean, just look at how these guys – oh.”

‘Oh’ indeed.

The people were no longer dancing. They were grabbing at each other, at men and women they probably didn’t even know, tearing apart clothes in a vicious urge to fornicate right there on the dancefloor. Some of them were already completely nude. You avert your eyes to stare at your feet instead.

Hizashi cleared his throat. “Whoops. Look what ya made me do, angel. My lust got the best of me!” He held you close while watching the horrid act before him. You’re trying to move your heavy arms to cover your bare body. “No wonder I’m feeling so horny. Think I should make them stop?”

It takes effort to nod your head.

His lip sticks out in an exaggerated pout before going, “Nah. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen an orgy. I bet this is a first for you.”

Something tickles your hips, your eyes wandering over to see the arrow-like point of his tail curling around your white panties, tugging them down.

Part of you already knows that Hizashi is allowing you to struggle for his own amusement. With all of your protection gone, he can easily stop you from swatting at the flexible limb as it brings your final article of clothing down to your ankles.

Wearing nothing but the small strap around your wrist, you want so badly to curl up and hide yourself. You were completely bare on a stage with a demon quietly taking in your form. The contrasting feelings of anxiety and calm threaten to tear your psyche in half.

“Given how anal you guys are about chastity, I think it’s safe to say no one’s ever touched you before?” The way you tense tells him enough. “Alright alright, relax. I’m gonna make this easy for you.”

‘How? By letting me leave?’ You want to say, but your vocal chords aren’t cooperating.

He grinned from ear to ear. “Well, no. I told ya I know everything goin’ on in that head.” He grabs you by the shoulders and places you right in front of his mixer.

There were many suggestive sounds amongst the pile of writhing bodies before you. It was the most depraved sight that you’ve ever witnessed. These people may have been sinners for their immoral pursuits, but they were still victims of a wicked creature’s influence. You wish you could apologize to all of them for failing to protect them.

Slender fingers massaged your shoulders. “Ain’t it beautiful?” He whispers hotly into your ear. “I’m not that crazy about lust, but I can’t resist when it’s coming from someone like you.”

His aura has you shackled on the spot, unable to move or even tear your eyes away from all of the sex. His voice meshes with the increasingly sensual tunes, both him and the music putting you in a deep trance that leaves every nerve in your body extra sensitive.

You’re gently pushed to lean forward until your hands are supporting yourself on the table. The leather of his clothes pressed against your back is irritating, but easily overshadowed by the hands trailing down your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“One of my favorite hobbies was hunting down faithful maidens like you. All demons love doing it, really. You can’t top raw innocence, it’s always a delicacy. It’s the closest most of us will ever get to fucking an actual angel. I managed to fuck an angel, and lemme tell ya, it’s a once in an eternity experience.”

He reaches your mound. There is still fear and an urge to pray, though it’s drowned out by the electronic harmony and all of the hot sex.

“Now she’s a fallen one that hangs out with me. Pretty little devil’s obsessed with sex now. If you’re lucky, maybe she’ll give you a visit in your sleep at midnight.”

His fingers reach your untouched folds, making you gasp. You’ve never felt so much lubrication down there before. Was that normal?

“I was really good at the whole corruption thing, so good that I caught the attention of the big holy boys. They were toughies, gotta hand it to 'em. I decided to lay low after that little showdown. That was all a preeetty long time ago.”

The demon’s voice is background noise as you watch deplorable acts that you didn’t even know existed. One woman was taking a cock into her mouth while another man pounded into her from behind. A new male approached and grabbed her free hand, wrapping her fingers around him and encouraging her to stroke him.

Three men pleasuring themselves with the same woman. They were probably complete strangers.

The repulsive sight makes you wetter.

They sure were having fun.

Hizashi hums at your arousal, sinking a digit into your folds. 

“Ah,” you choke on your own voice. His other hand plays with your breast again while you’re being penetrated for the first time. Some sort of flame was growing within you, burning and pleasing at the same time.

“I thought I’ve found my place. Going place to place and bringing in crowds who just want to forget their troubles for a day and groove.”

The finger pushes through your tightly clenched walls, or at least they try to.

“Fuck, relax a bit, babe,” he groans.

You do exactly that, giving him enough leeway to push in and out at a steady pace. You don’t think about the violation, only the strange friction that has no right to feel as good as it does. 

“And then you come along,” An unexpected sharp thrust causes his finger to brush against a spot that fills your vision with even more blinding lights. “It’s not like I was after you or anything. You’re a solid negative ten on the threat scale, but ya just wouldn’t leave me alone!” He relentlessly hits the spot again, and again, until you’re crying out and your legs are shaking. “Then you waltz in here and try to ruin my favorite night of the year?

He’s able to hide his anger as he speaks, but fails to keep it from entering his possessed victims. The orgy becomes more violent, all of the people looking no more civil than savages in torn rags as they try to dominate and fuck each other senseless.

It affects you as well, going by how annoyed you’re getting by his rambling. Can’t he just focus on pleasing you?

His finger leaves you too soon, your cunt already missing the brand new sensations. “Sorry, babe,” he says when he releases you and begins to undo his pants. “Normally I’d spend more time warming up, but I gotta join in on the raunchiness now before I go nuts. Just...do me a favor.”

You whined, wiggling your hips and rubbing your ass against his freed cock. He only chuckles at your impatience.

“Slow your roll, I’ll get started as soon as you push that button riiiight there.”

You push one of the many glowing buttons, and stock phrases are shouted out of the speakers.

“No, the one next to it.”

You press it, and another song begins.

Hizashi hums in approval. “I usually do a smooth transition between songs, but…”

A hard impact knocks you forward with the overwhelming feeling of being completely filled all at once. The stretch and pressure has your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

“....Yeah, I just wanted to do that. And-” He yanks the halo off your head and drops it at your feet. “-I always loved the symbolism in that.”

He wastes no time building up. You’re being pounded as hard and consistently as the energetic beat. It should hurt, but the euphoric state of your mind dulls any pain and discomfort. 

With the demon inside both your head and your womanhood, there was no saving yourself. Your prayers wouldn’t even be heard through this thick depraved fog.

“Oh fuck yeah,” He growls loudly with his wild thrusts, hands gripping your hips tightly enough to bruise. “I’ve been missing out. So hooked on the party life that I don’t even remember how it feels to eat up a modest little soul like this.”

Was he still devouring you? You can’t even tell, not while you’re trapped in this melodic dreamworld as his cock rams you.

“Ya mind if we do this again sometime?” He angled himself to ensure he was hitting that sweet spot with each rhythmic pump. Despite his aggression, his hips moved with musical purpose. “Not like you’re much of a priest anymore. You’re fuckin’ a demon, sweetheart. I think the pearly gates have closed for you.”

That sounds sad and all, but God does he feel good. The entire moment was feeling like a hallucination. Your world was saturated with fuzzy images and muffled bass as your virgin pussy was ravaged. The tightened heat in your core was growing hotter by the second.

Hizashi just wouldn’t stop talking even as he became short of breath. “Ah, don’t worry, my doors are always open to misfits!” His rhythm falters a bit when you give him an especially tight squeeze. “Ya like that? I can always wipe your memory of tonight along with everyone else’s, and you can head back home. I just don’t think your next visit to the house of God is gonna end well.”

How does he expect you to care with the way he’s plowing into you?

His arms wrap around you in an embrace. “No pressure, angel. You can decide later. For now, just enjoy the show.”

And finally, he shut up and focused on fucking your divine lights out.

With his pelvis flush against your ass, Hizashi humps with newfound vigor, his thrusts rapid yet precise enough to keep stimulating your most sensitive areas.

The blinding stars in your eyes make it impossible to even make out what’s happening in front of you. A shame, because you want to know if you’re being dicked down as good and hard as the whores on the dancefloor.

The demon may not be talking anymore, but he was still being very vocal about his pleasure with feral moans and growls right into your ear. 

An extra hard slam forces you to nearly topple onto the controls, hands scrambling to keep you upright and hitting several buttons in the process. 

A series of sounds and distortion effects are added to the song.

It unexpectedly riles him up. “Shit, that wasn’t a bad mix, angel. I might have a junior DJ in the making,” he praises.

The tempo changes - different speed and new layers - and Hizashi follows suit by switching his quick bucks into deep thrusts.

The fire inside was close to doing...something. You weren’t sure what it was or what exactly will happen if this lasts any longer, but part of you knows that it’s about to feel very good.

With the head of his dick striking you nice and deep, you quickly learn that you were right.

The explosion of spasms was too pleasurable to even comprehend, each contraction tearing filthy screams from your throat. Hizashi bursts soon afterwards and fills you up with a cry even more lewd than yours.

Just like that, your mind is freed and the weight of his aura is lifted...and you feel gravely tired.

A coldness sweeps over you and saps every ounce of your strength. You find yourself dropping to your knees and falling over as a distant voice expresses genuine worry.

“Oh.......I overfed.” Though it doesn’t sound as panicked as it should.

You don’t want to close your eyes. You fear that something terrible might happen if you do, but your eyelids are quickly becoming too heavy to fight.

“Really sorry, little priest! I didn’t mean to! Look at the bright side - my friends are gonna love ya down there! Home isn’t half as bad as those books make it out to be!”

Each word sounds fainter than the last, but you still catch each one.

Home?

Your eyes shut. 

And the remains of your soul become stained with ash and black before heading downwards into the demonic realm.

Welcome home.

[alpacaparkaseok]

Mine

13. Agust D

Genre: Min Yoongi x oc

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4.2k

I have a surprise for you guys in this chapter!!! 😊😊 Aaaaand we’re all set up and ready to go for the finale! 

2 Months Later

Anacortes, Washington, USA

The distant sound of a bell pulls me back to reality, and I turn to face the wind. Waves are pushing their way onto the shore, the choppy water fighting for my attention.

I watch as the ferry grows ever closer before putting my earbuds into my ears to answer my incoming phone call.

“Funny, I was just thinking about you,” I smile as I close my eyes.

“Really? What a coincidence. What are you up to right now?”

“Just about to board the ferry. You?”

“I’m going to head to bed soon.”

“Wow, so early. You’ve become so disciplined!”

Yoongi’s breathy laugh fills my ears and I can almost picture him rolling his eyes if I close my eyes tightly enough. “I’m assuming you’re not available to facetime?”

Frowning, I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “No, too many people around. You’ll just have to deal with the beautiful sound of my voice.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

It’s been two months since I last saw Yoongi outside of Bong-cha’s apartment. The chill that comes with currently residing in the northwestern United States is almost the same as I felt that morning when we said goodbye.

‘Young Rising’ came out just over a month ago, and it’s received a lot of success. Thankfully it was just enough to help me land a role that is already receiving speculation for possibly being a critically acclaimed role.

It wasn’t the one I originally wanted, that role went to Bryce Dallas Howard. I suppose I’ll have to try for a 1700’s romance some other time. This time around I get to play the daughter of one of the first lighthouse keepers in the United States and all the crazy events that unfold. It’s fun, and getting to take the ferry out to the San Juan islands here in the state of Washington is an added bonus.

My favorite part of the role? Every morning I get to sit here and watch the ocean and talk to Yoongi.

“Rude, but I’m not surprised. Isn’t it barely midnight there? You really are heading off to bed early.”

“Yeah, it’s midnight. What can I say? It was a long day and I’m exhausted.”

Now that I listen closer, I notice the hint of tiredness in his tone. “Why? What happened today?”

Yoongi sighs as I get up to board the ferry. Another great thing about being here in Washington? It’s cold and rainy enough that nobody bats an eye at me. I’m decked out in my raincoat and my beanie is pulled down low. During this time of year there aren’t many tourists either, so most mornings it’s just the ferryman and I. Today there are a couple of small groups milling about, though.

All the better. It gives me an excuse to not facetime Yoongi and have him laugh at my bundled up state. Which, for the record, he finds hilarious.

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Promise.”

There’s a second hesitation before he speaks up again. “I miss you.”

It’s a blow straight to the heart, and I cling to the railing so as to not fall overboard. We try not to dwell on our current state too much, things are complicated enough. Still, it’s nice to know that I’m not the only one struggling with this.

“Why would I laugh at that?”

“I don’t know, you like making fun of me and how weirdly sentimental I can get-”

“Soft. That’s the word you’re looking for.”

“...right. How could I forget.”

“I miss you too, Yoongs. A lot.”

It’s silent on the other end of the phone for a little while, so I just lean up against the railing and watch as the ferry begins to edge out to sea. Once again I close my eyes against the crashing waves and try to convince myself that I’m sitting in the genius lab or making a mess of things in the kitchen.

How could a span of less than a week affect me so much? It’s a question that I’ve come back to many times over the past couple of weeks. Occasionally I get a moment of understanding. Sometimes that understanding comes late at night as I cuddle up in bed, propping my phone up to chat with Yoongi as he sits at his desk in the genius lab and tells me about what he’s working on.

Just watching him mumble incoherent things under his breath and seeing his eyes flit back to his phone to check that I’m still there makes me realize that there’s so much going on here. So much going on whilst being so far apart.

At least the media frenzy has died down a bit. Sure, there’s still a lot of theories tumbling around, but the mobs of heartbroken fans seems to have lessened significantly.

“Are you sure that’s everything, though? What else have you got going on?”

“What, me missing you is not enough?”

I chuckle into the phone. “Nope.”

“Fine, you caught me. We’re finishing up the final touches on the mixtape and I always just get really stressed before a release, you know? Like you did the night before ‘Young Rising’ premiered?”

Shuddering at the memory I groan. “Ugh, don’t remind me. But what is it exactly about this mixtape that has you so nervous? I mean, this isn’t the first time you’ve released one. Maybe whatever helped you de-stress last time will help you this time around, too.”

There’s a long pause but I wait patiently for him to speak. The island is just coming into view now, I’ve probably got about fifteen more minutes before I’m officially on the clock and have to hang up.

I hate that part.

“I’m not so sure...it’s different this time around.”

I frown. “What’s so different? You’re even more loved?”

A wry laugh on his part. “No, not that. It’s just...this mixtape, these songs...they’re even more personal this time around. Sure, I’ve talked about some pretty personal things on my previous mixtapes, but this time around the entire mixtape is personal.”

That’s news to me. Ever since Yoongi changed the concept of the album he’s kept everything under lock and key. He told me he kept most of the tracks, ‘My First Mistake’ obviously being one of them. Other than that, though, I have no idea what to expect.

“Yoongs...I think that will make this mixtape your best one yet. Really. People will be able to relate to it, and they’ll love you even more for it. Just, get some sleep tonight. You’ve worked your hardest - don’t try to brush it all off, you’ve nearly worked yourself to the ground over this mixtape! - and that’s all you can do. I’m absolutely positive it’ll be great.”

“Thanks, Car. So what scenes are you doing today?”

We get lost in the conversation for the remainder of the ferry ride before suddenly the ferry is coming to a stop. I hurry off the boat, the tell-tale change of tone tipping Yoongi off to what I need to do.

“Talk to you later?”

“Yeah, sounds great. Get some sleep!”

Yoongi chuckles. “Will do. Have a great day.”

I sign off the phone and roll my shoulders. One of the producers, Melissa, is waiting for me in a little golf cart.

“Hey Cara, ready for the day?”

Grinning at her, I jump into the passenger seat. “Definitely.”

🌙

It’s the middle of the night when I’m awoken from my slumber, and I groan as I contemplate just turning my phone off. It was a late night, I’ve probably only been asleep for a couple of hours at this point.

When I see who’s calling, though, I pick up.

“Bong-cha?” I ask blearily. “What’s up?”

“Have you listened to it yet?!”

I hiss as Bong-cha screams into my ear. “What are you talking about? Did you and Jimin finally kiss or something?”

“No, you idiot. Yoongi’s mixtape!”

My eyes widen and suddenly I’m completely awake. “His mixtape? I-it’s out? When?”

“It just dropped like an hour ago! Didn’t he tell you? I mean, I get that he wanted to surprise everybody, but I thought he’d at least tell you.”

I’m already on my music app, searching for Agust D. When I finally hit search, I scream involuntarily.

“That little punk! He didn’t even tell me!”

“Wait, Cara!”

“What?”

“Just, listen to it.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do, weirdo.”

“No, but really listen to it. I mean, it’s about you.”

My chest stops rising as my air gets cut off. “What do you mean it’s about me? We already knew about ‘My First Mistake’-”

“No, not just that track. I mean it’s all about you. Just look at the name of it! Isn’t it a little weird that he didn’t stick to his m.o. and title it ‘D-3’?”

I was in such a rush to click on his profile that I didn’t even bother to look at the title. When I do, I come gasping up for air.

Mine.

Written there in big, bold letters is the word mine.

“That doesn’t mean any-”

“Nuh-uh, you listen to the mixtape and then we’ll hash out the details. Got it?”

“Fine. Call you in the morning?”

“Isn’t it already morning for you?”

“Yeah, 4!”

“Right. Yeah, call me later.”

Clicking off the call, I take a deep breath to steel myself before clicking on the album. 8 tracks stare back up at me, most of them I recognize from that first night in the genius lab. The leading track is ‘My First Mistake’, which makes me smile. When my eyes trail down to the final song, I can’t help but click on it.

My Last Mistake. Turning the volume up, I sit back against my headboard and listen. And then, note by note, I fall under his spell.

Yoongi’s heartbroken voice talks about details of his life, how he goes by many names. The world knows him by Suga. His true fans know his other name, August D. Min Yoongi controls the strings of those two personas. A heavy beat pounds out the words alongside him.

Then the music slows, becomes calmer. Clearer.

In the most tormented voice he can manage, Yoongi talks about a girl that called him Yoongs. He talks about a girl driving under the stars that called him Yoongs and how in that moment, he decided that none of the other names mattered anymore, just so long as he could hear her say it one more time.

As the song falls from its crescendo, Yoongi brings up his last mistake.

“What’s your last mistake, Yoongs?” I whisper, hoping for an answer.

He answers it a moment later, the same melody from ‘My First Mistake’ being played out, only this time it’s on the guitar rather than the piano.

He’s reminded of his last mistake every time a plane flies overhead and he can’t run fast enough to catch it.

🌙

The entire mixtape is hauntingly beautiful.

As I finish listening to “Naksan”, a song set Naksan park, and what I assume to be the gazebo that overlooked Seoul, I lean my head back and sigh.

There is so much we don’t say. There is so much that Yoongi has never said, but now I’m beginning to realize why he was so nervous about this mixtape.

Here, crammed into these eight songs that talk about everything from t-shirts to being oceans apart, Yoongi says everything he never could before. It’s obvious, painfully so. He didn’t try to cover anything up.

I am so dead.

Yet, I can’t find it in myself to care. The only thing I wish I could do right now is show up at his apartment and sit down on his couch. Maybe eat some food, and watch as he fumbles for an explanation to this mixtape that is no longer a mixtape but more a cry out into the void.

And of course, don’t even get me started on the title track. The song that the album is named after, “Mine”.

In it Yoongi recalls his dreams of having a big car and house, and how he gets to call all those things his now. He has it all, essentially. And yet, the one thing he wants more than anything is far from him.

‘I have it all, I hear them say it. I have it all, they chant over again. When will they realize that it means nothing to me, if I can’t call you mine?’

Dragging myself to check Twitter, I see what the number one trending topic is right now.

#Mine

And in second place?

#CaraisMine

Somehow, I can never quite make it to first place. How disappointing.

Groaning as I realize that the sun is about to come up, I linger over Yoongi’s contact information.

One call. That’s all it would take. A single phone call, and maybe everything would change. But what would I even say?

Hi, it’s the girl that’s ridiculously in love with you. Do you feel the same way? Great! Let’s end our careers and live in Fiji!

As enticing as that sounds as I watch the rain pouring down, I know that it’s unrealistic. I’m here, caught up in some strange, long-distance relationship that’s technically not a relationship.

And Yoongi’s there, hopefully receiving all the praise he deserves for coming out with yet another great mixtape.

So I just let the dim light from my phone fade out before slipping back down under the covers. I know what Yoong is thinking now.

Ball’s in my court. But how on earth do I return it?

🌙

Seoul, South Korea

“And she still hasn’t said anything about it?”

Yoongi knows that Taehyung is trying really hard to understand his current predicament, but if he asks him if he’s heard from Cara one more time, he’s going to lose his mind.

“No.”

“Have you reached out to her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Sighing, Yoongi rubs his hands over his face. “First, because it’s only 8 o’clock in the morning over there. Second, I basically just told the world about my feelings for her, I think I can give her a little space to breathe before jumping on her.”

Taehyung plops down beside Yoongi, his eyes wide. “You’re really stressed, aren’t you?”

Somehow the question makes Yoongi laugh. “You think?” He feels restless; he has for the past two months. He thought releasing the mixtape would diminish that feeling, but instead it’s been heightened to the point that he can’t hardly sit still anymore.

Which is saying a lot, because Yoongi loves sitting still.

“Hyung?”

“Hm.”

“I think you should borrow my car and go for a drive or something. Just get out for a while. You’ve been cooped up in this studio for weeks; it’s messing with your head.”

Sometimes Yoongi forgets how much everyone cares about him. It’s in times like these that he remembers. Without saying much else he takes Taehyung’s keys that he extends to him and heads out.

When he gets into the car, he doesn’t know where he’s going. His mind is filled with worry and doubts and worst of all, regret. Was he too blind in his feelings that he overlooked Cara’s? After all, maybe she’s listening to the mixtape right this very moment and wondering why he would write something like this.

Maybe she hasn’t called him yet because she’s trying to come up with a way to let him down easy.

Yoongi drives and drives, turning up the music so as to drown out the thoughts in his head. He drives on and on, clueless to the fact that it’s the middle of the night and he should really be heading back to the apartment now.

When he parks before a lit path that leads up, Yoongi realizes that his body knew this entire time where he was going.

Without questioning it further, he hops out of the car and shrugs on his coat and mask. It’s late enough that hopefully most people will have had the sense to go home.

As Yoongi climbs up the path he only passes a couple of people; a couple that are too tangled up in each other’s embrace to even notice him. The path continues ever upward until he’s panting, but he’s grateful for the burn in his lungs. For a brief moment, his mind isn’t consumed by the what ifs of his current situation.

As Yoongi clears the final steps, his gaze immediately turns to the gazebo just down a ways. It’s the same as before, the night a similar one to that night when he watched Cara from afar before mustering up the courage to go talk to her.

Tonight there is one major difference. As Yoongi edges closer, there’s a tightness in his chest. There’s some part of him that half-expects Cara to appear, leaning up against one of the pillars and looking out at the city.

As Yoongi steps into the gazebo, that wish vanishes into thin air.

It’s empty.

Cara is not here. Yoongi is, though. Which has proved to be the most miserable thing in the world over the past two months. Cara is gone, but somehow Yoongi is still here and seeing her everywhere he goes.

The songwriting and production process is enough to make anyone go a little insane. Usually, once the project is finished, Yoongi feels like he can finally breathe again. He’s able to enjoy the fruits of his labors.

Not tonight.

At first he laughed at himself, back when he’d first started learning about Cara from Bong-cha and curiosity overcame him. He thought it was silly of him to want to learn everything about her and what it was that made her tick. There was just something about her that made Yoongi dive right in.

Of course, the boys had noticed. Even Bong-cha, who hadn’t known him for very long, had noticed the difference Cara had made. That was before they even met. Before any of this had even started.

Yoongi knows his place. His place as one of the most famous stars in the world, his place in the group’s dynamic, his place among his family. His place among ARMY. Yet, when he met Cara, it was like the ground disappeared under his feet and he’s been falling ever since.

He used to come to Naksan park often and just think. He’s not one for hiking around outdoors, but something about the view and the beautiful architecture of the gazebo and old city walls that line the path have helped him think.

He used to stand where Cara stood, and think about everything. However there was one topic that he tried to avoid at all costs: love. It wasn’t because he didn’t believe in love or didn't want it; if he’s learned anything from his time with ARMY he’s learned about love. But there was always this giant, impenetrable wall that stood between him and love.

Yoongi knows his place, and because of that clear role he has also always known that him falling in love with someone other than his fans was off the table.

That night when he came to meet Cara, he was coming to tell her just that. He was coming to tell her that he was a horrible human being that was dangerously close to breaking that unspoken rule, and he needed to mark a clear line in the sand. Friends, he had thought We can still be friends.

Yet, as he’d watched Cara head to the same spot; the same pillar he had frequented so many times, his words had gotten caught in his throat. She’d looked out over the city and Yoongi would have given anything to know what she was thinking.

Instead, he’d just asked for what so many people had been unable to give him throughout his career.

Just someone to sit in silence with.

No demands, no questions, just be together.

And as Yoongi sat swimming in his feelings, Cara’s head resting on his shoulder, he learned something about himself.

Yoongi had avoided the topic of love for so long not because he didn’t think it was appropriate for his lifestyle, but because he’d known deep down that the chances of him finding someone he was willing give everything up for were nearly nonexistent.

Cara’s hand was wrapped up in his, sharing his pocket. Quiet breathing, feeling warm despite the oppressing chill. No demanding answers, just sitting together.

He had realized that while he was looking for someone to convince him to leave everything behind, he was sitting beside someone that already understood. Someone that would never tell him to abandon it all just to be together.

He was sitting beside someone that might just be open to the possibility of being together, and would be open to the chaos that would ensue. There was no need to change everything to be together, but there would be the need to fight for that privilege of calling Cara his.

As Yoongi now steps into the gazebo and rests on the bench opposite from where they had sat, he remembers when it all started.

The night after he’d watched ‘Under Nine’, he’d felt restless and wandered up here. It was the first time in over a year that he’d come here. He knew why he didn’t bother to anymore; he didn’t feel inspired anymore when he looked out over the city.

Yoongi had seen the world, and he’d fallen out of love with it.

It was a horrible, lying, cheating thing. He’d seen too much suffering, fought so hard against it just to see evil rise up again and again.

Yet when he came up here that night after watching Cara on screen and seeing that humanity can be beautiful even in all its flaws, something amazing had happened.  

He looked out over the city, and a little spark had jumped up in his heart. That night, Yoongi looked out over the world, and began to fall in love again.

Yoongi has never been very confrontational. Some may think he is simply due to his status as a rapper, but that’s never been the case. However, he is known for his undeniable work ethic. For his unending effort to obtain what he thinks he deserves.

When Yoongi placed a letter into the mail a few days ago, he was reminded of why he was going to do everything in his power to make this work.

When he looked at Cara, he thought that she deserved a chance at love, too.

Giving one last look out at the city, Yoongi gets up and stretches. There are a lot of uncertainties swirling about right now, but there is one thing he is completely certain of.

He is going to do everything in his power to give him and Cara a chance.

🌙

Anacortes, Washington, USA

I have mail.

It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve gotten mail, but I can’t fight the feeling of dread as I wonder if the awkward pleas from fans are about to start up again. There’s a single envelope addressed to me sitting on the ground in front of my hotel door, which I scoop up before heading back inside.

No work today; we’ll be taking a two week break to wait out the rainy season before picking things back up again. I’m grateful for the small reprieve, I would much rather stay cuddled up in my blankets today while I try to wrap my mind around everything.

I haven’t reached out to Yoongi yet. Granted, it’s only 10 am, but I still feel a little guilty. I just want to make sure I have my thoughts in order before I freak out, you know? After all, there’s still a chance the mixtape being about me is just a coincidence...right?

Stacey, my PR rep, just got off the phone with me. Nobody really knows where I am right now, which is good. There are perks to being holed up in a small town in the northwestern United States.

She gave me an earful on how many calls she’s received over the course of the last few hours from various magazines and gossip collectors. When she asked me if there was a statement she would like for me to relay, I blanked. Stacey just laughed and said she’d come up with some vague for the time being.

My attention returns to the item in my hand. Cautiously opening up the letter, my brows furrow as I take out a small slip of paper and a piece of thick cardstock.

Cara,

Hopefully this gets to you when it’s supposed to. I thought of just sending you an email but that seemed to detract from what I was going for. You understand, don’t you? When you told me about your break from work, I managed to pull some strings. Follow the directions on the back of this letter, I’ll be waiting for you. And no, I can’t do this over the phone. It’s an ‘in-person’ kind of thing.

Yours,

Yoongs

Flipping the letter over I frown when the directions are in French. Then, scrambling for the cardstock, my mouth drops open as I see just what Yoongi is talking about.

One boarding ticket for tomorrow morning, leaving at 10am.

Destination?

Paris.

Previous - Next

only one chapter left! 💛💛

taglist: @eusticenatalie @agustneeds​ @prdshobi​ @oceandeep​ @taylorroe3​ @dreamcatcherjiah​

[procrastinatorimagines]

I Want Us Part 2

Fandom: SVU / Chicago PD

Series: I Want Us

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 (Final)

Pairing: Carisi x Reader

Warning/s: mentions of kidnapping

Word Count: 1,513

Summary:  When a child abduction case crosses state lines in New York, Intelligence flies out to meet the Special Victims Unit and track down the missing boy. With the clock ticking, both units decide to mix up partners in order to combine their knowledge of the case with knowledge of New York City, pairing Intelligence’s newest member Y/N with Detective Carisi. Soon these new partners find themselves staking out a potential location for their suspect, getting to know each other to pass the time.

Tags: @inlovewith3​ //

“Chicago or New York, a stakeout is stakeout,” you yawned, checking your watch through tired eyes. It was coming up to 2 am and while you wanted nothing more than to be asleep, all your intel pointed to O’Connell conducting his business after midnight.

Carisi couldn’t agree more, sat next to you in the drivers seat as you watched bar O’Connell reportedly owned. The place was dark, scaffolding to one side of newspaper covered doors. Apparently, apparently this old run down building was his newest investment, and you’d thought it was a good a place as any to conduct private business, especially the kind involving a missing child that an entire city was out looking for. 

Voight and Benson had agreed, you and Carisi had found yourselves parked just down the road, undercover car largely obscured by a hedge and fence. Hours combing through files at his desk had cumulated into this, swapping intel between both units as you all tried to figure out and navigate your new temporary partnerships.

“What is this guy, a vampire or something?” Carisi half joked, half complained. You were both wearing your vests, but had since ditched your police jackets, the heat making both of you more tired that you’d like. The night had brought little relief from the Summer sun that had been beating down all day, the leaves on the hedge barely conveying any signs of a breeze. 

“Maybe I was wrong about this,” you admitted after a moment, watching yet another car that wasn’t O’Connell drive down the street and into the distance. None had stopped outside the bar, no one had even walked close to it except an elderly couple on the other side of the street.

Carisi glanced your way for a long moment, watching as you worried your lip as you thought about Logan. You didn’t know what was going through his mind, but he’d been torn away from his entire life by a man he barely knew, and you didn’t want to think about what would happen if you didn’t get him back tonight.

“You trust your gut?” Carisi asked, the question giving you pause. Gut instinct had always been something Voight valued in his Intelligence Unit, you had to trust yourself and those around you if you were going to make it through the day, and catch the bad guy. 

“I do,” you told him with conviction. With limited information and limited time, you could afford the luxury of spending days checking out each of O’Connell’s potential locations, it was now or never, and every fiber of your being was telling you that this was the place.

“Well okay,” Carisi replied, “then we stay put. The rest of our units are checking out other possible spots he might show tonight, we’ll get him.” He gave you a reassuring smile and reached into the bag by his feat, pulling out a tupperware box.

You had to ask. “How can you be so confident? I mean the Special Victims Unit, you guys do this kind of thing all the time, I’m not sure I could remain as optimistic as you.” He chuckled at that, offering you what looked like home made cannoli from the box as he thought over your question. You thanked him, devouring the sweet treat a little too eagerly, it tasted great and you hadn’t eaten in hours.

“I have faith, without it I don’t know if I’d have been able to do it for as long as I have,” he answered honestly, “what we do makes a difference, protecting those who need it the most and making the world a little safer, you just need to think about the ones you’ve saved, not the ones you haven’t.”

“But these cases... I mean we deal with the worst people, but you deal with the worst of the worst,” you continued. All the cases in Intelligence that stuck with you were like the cases SVU dealt with all the time, but despite the years he’d spent doing these cases, Carisi still had such a light and hope about him.

Antonio was your partner, and friend, you’d take a bullet for him in a heartbeat, but you’d seen what years on the job had done to him. The divorce, the drugs... it weighed on him, you could see it in his eyes. It had obviously occurred to you that Intelligence wasn’t your average unit by any means, but this different perspective was more refreshing that you expected.

“We also catch the worst of the worst, most of the time,” Carisi countered and you grinned. You hadn’t really thought about it like that, helping yourself to some more food. He regarded you for a second before adding: “you haven’t been a detective long have you?”

You shrugged, “couple of years, moved out of uniform as quickly as I could though, barely got the promotion before Voight offered me a spot in his unit.” You thought back to those early days, how excited you’d been to be offered the job, everyone knew about Intelligence and its reputation, you’d jumped at the chance to be a part of the unit and hadn’t looked back since. 

“Give it some time, you’ll find the right mentality you need to process these kinds of cases,” Carisi assured you, eyes flicking back to the deserted, half lit street. You could tell he was just as worried and determined as you were to save Logan, but he also had a calm about him right then that you really wished you could master.

“These are amazing by the way,” you told him, cannoli in hand as you tried to steer the conversation away from the serious edge it had acquired, “did you make them?” 

He smiled, eyes lighting up a little. “Yeah I did, family recipe. I like to make them on long stakeouts, keeps the blood sugar high and the spirits up.”

“Well I am going to have to cozy up to your family then if you all cook like this,” you laughed, thinking about your own family, and then thinking about Logan’s as the laughter died.

“So what about you, you cook?” Carisi asked and you pulled yourself out of your worried thoughts.

“Me? Nah, not so much. I mean, I used to, but I never seem to find the time anymore,” you admitted. Working in Intelligence was pretty demanding, worth it, but still, there was only so much take out a person should eat, and you’d definitely surpassed that limit getting back from work after all those late nights. 

“Order some of your pie pizzas instead?” He teased and you feigned dramatic insult.

“Oh really? You had to go there?” You laughed, “keep your paper pizzas alright, Chicago knows what it’s doing.” Carisi shook his head and you knew it was an argument neither of you would concede, but you’d found yourself getting pretty comfortable in the car. 

“Forgive me if I don’t take the word of someone who only once got a connecting flight through here, have you ever actually had proper New York pizza? Because I’ve had Chicago’s attempt,” he pointed out, causing you to pause with your mouth half open, knowing that you didn’t have anyway to dispute that.

“I- shut up,” you replied like a middle schooler and soon you were both laughing. Carisi was easy to talk to, not just with his clarity about the job, but his welcoming personality too. 

“You should try it before you go back to Chicago, after we wrap this case,” he suggested and you offered a little shrug to say you’d think about it just as another car was driving down the road. 

You were instantly alert as you noticed the car beginning to slow, both you and Carisi switching gears into police mode as the car pulled up outside of the bar. Gotcha.

You waited with bated breath, one hand resting on the handle of your door while the other inched towards your thigh holster. Carisi radioed in a potential sighting, both ready to go at a moments notice as three figures emerged from the car. Two taller, male, the other quite clearly a child. 

While the dimly lit street prevented you both from making a clear ID, the plates on the car matched the ones seen leaving JFK. You and Carisi nodded to each other, this was it. Carisi confirmed the sighting and you were ordered to hold your position unless absolutely necessary, with Voight placing pointed emphasis on your name as he relayed the instructions.

You clenched your jaw, hating waiting as they all went to the entrance of the bar, knocking before being let it. There were other people inside, maybe O’Connell himself. Part of you wanted to go in right now, finish it, but you didn’t know how many people were inside, or how armed they were. Waiting for back up was the only option for now, so you reluctantly sat tight.

“We’ll get him,” Carisi insisted, noticing your tension, just as ready to spring into action as you were.

[cinephilediary]

A Memory

by: Kila Gallo

Sitting on a soft minimalist chair with a backrest, sipping on an iced white mocha-caramel coffee with some tiramisu on the side of the table, tied my long soft ash-brown-balayage hair in a clean bun with some baby hair strands on the side. Instead of the country side music, I prefer to listen and notice the loud breeze outside, while people come and go as they receive their cup of coffee. I am just here, silently typing on my keyboard, specs on, looking at my laptop’s screen; doing some work related stuff. Its been five years now, and I couldn’t help but wonder if… if I could see you or even just have the opportunity to glance at you, here, again.

“I’m going to school now Mom, bye!” I kissed on her cheek then walked through my way out of the house, still biting a piece of bread. It is 7:00 in the morning and I have to hurry for my first class. Dad is now waiting for me inside the black sedan car together with my little brother to drive us to school. Oh! I haven’t introduced myself yet, my name is Shi Gutierrez, a typical grade nine student.

“Shi! Faster! Mrs. Data is almost here!” Hazel shouted at me when she’s on the second floor and I am still at the school grounds. By that time, I started running upstairs in order for me not to get late and receive a punishment. Our school is definitely strict in terms of time thus I really have to run. I catch my breath as I sit down on my chair, I gasp and sigh heavily knowing that there's still no teacher yet, and fortunately, after minutes, Mrs. Data, our English teacher, entered the room and announced something that would be the start of something. “Good morning class! Since this week is the start of the English Month Celebration, I am tasking you to execute a stage play of the novel, Romeo and Juliet” she smiled angelically. Everyone were shocked that only our Class president answered, “When is it ma’am?”

“In the coming month, I still have no idea for the final and exact date but be ready! Any questions?” the room filled with silence. 

“Okay class, I want you to prepare for it because this is going to be a competition! Anyway, we will not have our classes starting today. I want you to focus on the preparation for your stage play! I am expecting so much from you since you are the first section, okay? See you!”

After leaving, the room was filled with noise of excitements. Then, my group of friends started teasing me to be part of the stage play because they knew I had some experiences. Time flies so fast, I, and my girl group of friends are now about to go to the school canteen to buy our lunch. We are seven girls in total and our classmates often call us as “girl group” because we would always gather to stick together and talks too loud. In the group, I am the one whose not easy to read, sometimes I would go silent and there are days wherein I would start the noise. People would always described me as a “social butterfly” and I kind of agree to the thought of it because I kind of know everyone here in our school, down from the school helpers, school guards to the higher positions. When we went back to our room, holding our drinks, everyone is occupied with their own businesses. Then without any hesitations, our class president stood up in front of the class, calling everyone’s attention. He discussed the agenda of finding who are the people who will act to be the characters of the play. While I am listening, the girls still pushes me to join, it was all fun until he, Mr. Class President looked directly at my way.

“Oh Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?” Yes, they appointed me to act as Juliet in the coming English month stage play competition. I did not even had the opportunity to decline because no one wants to do it either. We are now at the school grounds, amid the scorching sun, rehearsing our lines in our coming play. I already have prepared my costumes, props and other needed stuff. Everyone is participating since this is a whole-section project, thus, those who are not assigned as an actor or actresses are tasked for the making of props, backdrops, costumes, music and other tasks. By the way, the man who will act as the Romeo in our section, is our class president.

Everyone is currently occupied with their own tasks that keeps them bustle. I am at the backstage, fully prepared, wearing my first attire for the first act, a long beautiful dress, my hair is curled tied in a high bun. This is the day we have long prepared for.

“My only love sprung from my only hate. Too early seen unknown, and known too late!”

 After our section’s performance, our director told us to stay and watch the presentation of other sections. I was definitely excited to watch, to see the other perspectives of the play but when the third section finished, I asked my girl group to accompany me to the restroom to change because I don’t feel comfortable with my costume anymore. But, when we are approaching the door to go inside the school hallways, where the nearest restroom is located, my friends approached this boy, lone with his bag and used-props. “He’s the Romeo of the last stage play” I mumbled on myself. I know no one even heard me because when I looked at him again, he is now surrounded by the girls. They are asking him something, and when I went nearer, he looks more serious, still in his Romeo-outfit, fixing his necktie, smoothly removing his vest and folding some props made of paper to fit on his small paper bag. Then my friend, Rose started teasing him and I was in awe because I don’t know him, yet these girls act like they knew him. “Can I have that sword?”, “The flower is nice, give it to me!” they are forcing him to give them his things and I was just there watching him really give the things the girls asked to. Then, Rose looked at me, and that’s the signal that it is now my turn to ask him, “I want your necklace!” without any hesitations, I proudly told him. I don’t even know what to get and ask from him because I’m not interested with his props and the only thing I saw that is something useful, is the necklace suspended on his neck; a silver one with a small rectangular pendant looking good with his outfit. Then, he paused for a while, looking at me intently. I thought he’s going to give it to me, just like how easy it is for him to give his other belongings to the girls. But, he continued fixing his things and didn’t bother to mind me. After the deafening silence, finally, the girls forbid their goodbyes to that Romeo-boy, I don’t know what to feel, I am not ashamed of what have happened, I admit that it is weird at some point because we don’t know each other. All I really want to do is to change my clothes! “Its okay Shi, don’t be sad” Rose said when we went inside the restroom. What? “Yes Shi, maybe he was tired since he played the character of Romeo. Actually, he was really good! He’s better with our section’s Romeo!” Ann declared, then they all laughed.

Since every section made an amazing presentation during the English month stage play competition, Mrs. Data promised us to be rewarded with good and fair grades. Its been three weeks since that event happened, and now while everyone thought that it will be rest days next week, our class president together with the vice president, entered the room with some news to disseminate. “Okay listen! Next Friday there will be a Seminar Workshop in Filipino in line with the celebration of Filipino Month. Everyone must attend because this is going to be our attendance.”

“A celebration for the Filipino Month” Rose red the tarpaulin outside our school gate. It is 8:00 in the morning and we are currently waiting in line to enter the audio visual room where the event will take place. When we reached the door, our class president gave each one of us a name tag with a lanyard. He said that we are supposed to wear it the whole day. Since we are the first section, we had the opportunity to sit in front. The event started and the flow of the program went light, there are guest speakers who used to be theatre actors and now teaches Filipino subject and acting. Since it is a workshop, other guest speakers call some representative from each sections to participate. Then, lunch time came. We are about to go to the school canteen when he, our class president called me. He gave me a bottle of watermelon shake and a biscuit. “Why?” I asked him. He just stood there, smiling, wearing his eye glasses, unable to talk.

And finally, the event ended, it lasted for many hours! Its time for the photo opportunity with the guest speakers. We are the first one to take photos with them and can go home after. The section two is now ready for the photo opportunity thus I went back on my seat and started fixing my stuff, when I am ready to go, my friends ask me to wait for them. So, I sat on the arm desk of the chair, feet still on the ground, to prevent losing control and balance. I was watching the other students taking pictures with the guests until a pair of arms wrapped around my neck blocking my view, I stiffened from my position and unable to move. He move backwards after putting a necklace on me, then that's when I knew, the Romeo boy! I wasn’t able to speak, looking intently at him and he smiled. “Sorry its late”, What? What’s late? Why are you just talking to yourself be mad at him! He invaded your personal space! “And sorry for almost touching you, but I didn’t” he said in his low voice. What now? Do you hear me? “Honestly, I cant give you this” he holds his silver necklace suspended on his neck just like when I first saw him “my father gave it to me, so I bought a new one for you. Hope you like it.” Oh. Whats happening? Why I couldn’t utter any words right now. Then he smiled and turn his back on me. Leaving me in awe, unable to move nor speak. What was that? My heart beats so fast. Its a foreign feeling, something I only feel towards him.

“Hot Americano for Rald!” the counter called for the customer. Then I was stiffened from my seat. I looked down, forcefully closing my eyes, “Don’t look!” I mumbled on myself. But the heart made the final judgment, I looked at the counter, meters away from me. No one is taking the coffee. I glanced on the other direction, there, I saw him, wearing a white fitted polo that compliments his masculinity, paired with a black trousers and a pair of black leather shoes. A luster from his necklace caught my attention, it is the same necklace before. A smooth swift of the chair then he stand proudly and walked towards his way to the counter, eyes on his silver watch, looks like he need to hurry. The romantic background music from the cafe makes me lose my track, my heart keeps beating so fast, with one hand, he gently holds his cup of coffee, with no emotion on his eyes, then, he suddenly turned his gaze directly at me. I stiffened from my position, can not able to look away. Those brown eyes I used to gladly stare at, are the same pair of eyes I’ve long forgotten. He looked away. Turned his back at me and went out of the cafe. I can now barely see him. I thought he’s not going to be here today, just like the past years. Now that he glanced at me, I can tell, that he don’t recognized me. Do people really can forget someone they’ve spent years with? Do they really forget everything through the years? Maybe people really forget things and people they chose to forget. But, I hope its a different matter in my case. According to his doctor, there are high chances of obsolete lose remembrance on his case, after the heart operation. Does the heart really forgets?

Maybe,

I should come here again, 

more often.

[missperfectlyfine13]

In the garden would you trust me?

Summary: So, it's been a while since I've posted any writing, but the other day inspiration finally struck. I've always thought about how it would be fun to write a story inspired by the folklore love triangle and I finally came up with (hopefully) a good way to do it!

This story will be 3 parts - one part from Betty's perspective, one from August's, and one from James'.

But here's the twist - I am writing James as a girl. I know that Taylor has said that James is a teenage boy, but I'm taking a little creative liberty here. Hopefully it's well received!

So here goes nothing - part one is below!

*********

(Betty's POV)

The sound of metal clinking rings through the soft, late summer breeze. Betty squints, trying to determine what she’s actually looking at in her biology book. The bright sunlight against the glossy finish of the paper makes it nearly impossible to make out much of anything. As she strains to see the blurry image of cell, a swift wind sweeps through, whipping Betty’s papers into the air. She audibly grunts, studying outside seemed like a good idea at the time, but now she’s not sure.

Before she can think of standing up from the picnic table, a slender hand slides her papers back onto her book. Betty glances up, meeting the bluest pair of eyes she’s ever seen. The taller girl sits down opposite her, and Betty takes a moment to study her. Her wind-swept blonde hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, and her eyes glimmer almost magically back at Betty. She’s wearing an orange t-shirt with the number 8 printed in the upper right corner, the words Tigersprinted across her chest. She’s definitely a soft ball player, but shouldn’t she be over on the field across the way, with all her teammates?

“You’ve got to watch the wind when you study outside,” the girl finally speaks, a small smirk on her face, “I’m James by the way.”

“James? Isn’t that a boy’s name?” Betty replies before she can stop herself, but she quickly realizes it was a little rude, and she blushes shyly, “Also, why aren’t you on the field?”

“Well, you’re full of questions,” James chuckles, and her laugh may be the sweetest sound Betty has ever heard, “My parents wanted a boy, but they got me. So, my name is James. As far as your second question, we’re taking a break. I was walking over to the bathroom when I saw your papers take flight.”

“Sorry,” Betty says, still blushing, she can’t believe she let herself say that to a complete stranger.

“Don’t be sorry,” James replies sweetly, a hand still lying on top of her biology worksheets.

“Thank you for saving my homework,” the blonde’s hand on her work reminds her to thank the other girl.

“No problem…” James falters for a moment and lightly laughs once again, “I don’t think I got your name?”

“Betty.”

James gives her a toothy grin in return, “Betty. I like that. I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

“My family just moved here, I’m new to the school,” Betty explains, glad they are finally on to a new topic and her rude remarks seem to be forgotten.

“Ah gotcha,” James nods knowingly, “how do you like it so far?”

“It’s alright, everyone seems pretty friendly,” Betty looks down at her book, fidgeting with the dog-eared corners, “my classes seem ok, it’s just hard to transfer schools your junior year, you know?”

“I totally get it,” James replies, after intently listening to every word Betty spoke, “well, I know it’s hard to make friends at this stage in the game, so consider me one,” the other girl’s hand lifts off the stack of worksheets and across the table into Betty’s space.

Betty can’t help the broad smile that spreads across her face as she grasps onto James’s hand, “Thanks.”

“James!” a deep male voice strikes the calm afternoon air.

“Oh, that’s me,” James stands up and Betty quickly realizes how tall the girl is, “I’ve got to get back over there, but I’ll see you around?”

Betty nods, “Definitely!”

“Oh wait! Once more thing,” James blindly reaches for a pen off the table and grabs Betty’s hand back into hers.

Betty can’t stop her cheeks from turning a rosy pink at the feeling of ten numbers being etched onto her skin.

“That’s my phone number,” James drops her hand and the pen, before turning around to head back to the softball diamond, “you better text or call!”

“I will,” Betty replies shyly as James sprints back over to her team.

******

“Betty, Betty, BETTY!”

Betty is finally jolted back to reality. She quickly glances up from her desk, her math teacher standing over her with a worried look on her face. Betty quickly takes stock of what has just happened. The classroom is empty, there are tears staining her cheeks and the desk below her and not a single answer is written out on the test paper in front of her. This day just keeps getting better.

“I’m sorry,” she quietly mutters, grabbing the blank sheet to place it in her teacher’s hand, accepting her failure this time.

“Betty,” Ms. Davidson’s voice sounds soft and concerned, and she places the blank sheet back in front of Betty, “what’s wrong?”

The brunette shakes her head, not willing to commiserate with anyone, especially not a teacher, “Nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing, considering you just cried your way through the first test of the year and didn’t fill out a single answer,” she still looks overly concerned.

Betty sighs, “I just got some bad news this morning and it kind of threw me a little. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I know you’re a smart girl,” Ms. Davidson replies kindly, kneeling down in front of Betty’s desk, meeting her still teary eyes, “and I don’t want you to start off the year with a 0 in my class. How about you come back during your study hall and try taking this test again?”

Betty nods enthusiastically, “Thank you Ms. Davidson. That would be great.”

Ms. Davidson stands back up and gives her a small pat on the shoulder, “Whatever that boy did, isn’t worth all these tears.”

Betty nods with a small frown…more like whatever she did, “I know.”

“I’ll see you during study hall,” she says before Betty grabs her books and heads out the door.

Betty walks briskly down the hall towards her locker, weaving in and out, around the other students. She doesn’t want to risk running into James right now, it’s not something she can handle. Not after what Inez told her this morning.

A fresh wave of tears form behind her eyes, just thinking of the terrible encounter. The bubbly, blonde gossip had been standing by her locker before she even got there. Before Betty could even put in her combination, Inez was talking a mile a minute. She didn’t gather the whole situation with how quickly the other girl was talking. She did pick up the most important part though. Apparently, James was seen out with some other girl, from a neighboring school’s softball team. They were at the local diner, sharing a sundae and according to Inez, they looked “pretty cozy”.

Betty wants so badly to not believe it, but it adds up. James has been so distant for most of the summer. They’ve only been in school for a month and Betty just chalked it up to senior year stress. It’s James’s last softball season and she knows how badly she wants to do good. Very quickly though, texts became less frequent, excuses were made when Betty asked to hang out. That’s why she’s sure it has to be true, even though Inez’s sources aren’t always that reliable.

“Betty!” the last person she wants to hear calling her name pulls her out of her thoughts.

Before James has a chance to reach her, she’s on the move, heading towards the bathroom nearest to her locker. She can sense the tall blonde behind her, but pushes past the door of the bathroom before James can catch up. Betty flies into the stall at the far end of the room, putting the toilet seat lid down and sitting. She’s tries her best to keep her tears at bay, but soon enough she sees a worn pair of converse on the floor in front of her stall.

“Go away James,” Betty says curtly, clutching her books tightly to her chest, putting all her focus on making her voice sound steady.

“Betty…please,” James’s voice sounds desperate – almost sad, a tone she’s not used to hearing from the blonde, “let me explain.”

“I think Inez did enough explaining already,” Betty can’t stop her voice from shaking this time and she knows James heard.

She hears James sigh, and her head thud lightly against the door of the stall, “Please…Betty, baby…”

“DON’T call me that,” she’s surprised by how firm her voice was that time, but something about the pet name sets her insides aflame.

A loud clatter rings through the small space and Betty sees James’s skateboard hit the floor, followed by James herself. She sits cross legged in front of the stall, Betty can only see her legs, clad in ripped blue jeans.

“I’m not leaving until you let me talk to you,” James says stubbornly, but Betty can hear the way her voice is shaking now too.

“Well then it looks like we’re both going to be here for a while, I hope you’re ok with skipping 2nd period,” Betty spits back out just as stubbornly.

“I wish I could see your face, but I guess I’ll just say my piece through the door,” James sighs once again.

Betty doesn’t want to hear what she has to say, but on the same hand, she supposes it has to happen and she’s not sure she can bear to look James in the eyes when it does. Her response is silence and James takes that as her go ahead.

“I didn’t want you to find out like that,” James says almost timidly after about 30 more seconds of silence.

The soft admittance digs the knife in so deep Betty feels like she can’t breathe for a moment, a whole new batch of hot, angry tears already pouring down her cheeks, “So it’s true.”

She can hear James sniffle and she knows that she’s crying too, “I’m so sorry Betty.”

“Why?” Betty can’t hold her emotions at bay any longer and a choked sob follows the one-word question.

“It just happened, I don’t even know,” James is floundering but not coming up with any valid reasons, “but believe me, I feel terrible. I feel so guilty, it’s been eating me alive.”

“Then why did you keep doing it?” Betty replies almost venomously, you wouldn’t know she was crying by the tone of her voice.

James’s quiet sniffles have turned into full blown sobs and Betty can barely understand her lame excuse of a response, “I don’t know.”

“Who is she?” Betty asks coldly, she has to know.

“Her name is August,” James manages to choke out, “I met her in softball this summer. She doesn’t go here.”

Betty suddenly feels so angry she can barely keep her body from shaking. She pulls at the delicate chain around her neck, a necklace James got her shortly after they started dating. Betty yanks at the little gold heart until the chains breaks free from her neck, and she tosses it under the door at the other girl.

“Obviously, you realize we’re no longer going to homecoming together this weekend right?” Betty asks dryly, her hands still shaking, she’s surprised she hasn’t dropped the books in her lap.

Betty can see James delicately grab the broken chain and pendant off the floor, followed by another small sob, “Can’t we just try and work this out?”

“How could you possibly think we can work this out, when you can’t even give me a good reason?” her voice sounds tired and sad, so very sad, exactly how she feels on the inside, Betty’s not sure she can make it through the rest of this day.

James doesn’t respond, just quietly weeps on the other side of the door. Betty has had enough, she needs to leave this bathroom – now. She stands up and smooths out the wrinkles in her yellow sundress, trying to salvage what little dignity she has left. She swings the door open and James looks momentarily surprised.

“Move,” Betty doesn’t even make eye contact, but the tall blonde listens to her and scoots to the side, so Betty can walk past and out the door.

Betty doesn’t even look back once, because if she did, she would never leave this room.

******

It’s nothing short of a miracle that Betty even makes it through the rest of the day. It was a constant battle of holding back her tears and trying to avoid her ex-girlfriend, all while trying to function. She’s sure she still bombed that math test, even with the extra chance to put answers on the paper.

When she gets home, she bypasses going inside. She knows she won’t be able to avoid her mother’s questioning gaze. That alone will make her start bawling and she can’t bear to tell the story one more time today. Instead, she heads past the gate leading to the backyard and straight to her garden. The one spot in this entire world where she feels truly at peace. She hopes it can bring her that same sense of relief today.

As soon as she flops her bag down in the grass, she weaves her way through the flower bushes and tomato plants, all the way to the back fence by her sunflowers. She all but throws herself at the earth, pulling her legs tight against her chest. A fresh batch of tears starts to trickle from her eyes. Betty truly didn’t think she had any more tears to cry but being in this garden isn’t having the healing effect she thought it would. It was foolish to think that she would be calm here. This garden holds too many memories of James, and Betty instantly regrets ever brining the taller girl here. She’s tainted the one place she’s sought solitude since her family moved to this stupid town. When they moved, Betty had been distraught, leaving all her friends behind. Her mom and dad had both asked if there was anything that could make the move better. Betty had almost instantly said a big garden.

Betty loves the outdoors, she has ever since she was a kid. Her grandma had instilled a love for plants and flowers in her, from the moment she could walk. She remembers sticking her stubby little fingers in the dirt, placing delicate seeds with the aid of her grandma. Then helping to tend those sprouts until they produced leaves, flowers, and fruit. There’s something so gratifying about bringing new life into existence, with just a little water, sunshine, and love.

Now, what was once her happy place, is full of sour memories. Betty looks at a row of blueberry bushes and scoffs, remembering how excited James had been to see the blue fruit the first time Betty brought her here. That very same day, they shared their first kiss, next to the blueberry bushes. The sound of early evening crickets and the feeling of soft grass beneath her toes failed in comparison to the feeling of James’s soft lips against hers. Her heart had soared and felt almost as full as being in this garden makes her feel.

Not anymore though.

Betty wonders if she’ll ever be able to look at this garden the same way ever again. She slowly stands from her spot in the grass and heads inside. Thankfully, her parents are no where to be seen and her little brother is still at soccer practice, so Betty is able to make it to her room without being seen.

The moment she enters her room, her heart sinks. The first thing her eyes land on, is James’s ill-fitting cardigan hanging from her bed post. Her heart feels heavy as she remembers the day James had bestowed the beloved sweater upon her. They were taking a walk in the park, after getting ice cream. It was late September, so the days had been hot, but the evenings were starting to become chilly. Betty had shivered as they walked, instantly regretting leaving her denim jacket at home. James has always been observant. At the first sign of her coldness, James had slipped off her baggy cardigan and slipped it over Betty’s shoulders. Betty felt warmer immediately and it wasn’t just because of the soft fabric hanging on her.

Betty stomps over to the bed and all but rips the cardigan from the post, tossing it to the ground. She kicks it under the bed before flopping stomach first onto the mattress.

She was foolish to let James in. Now it’ll take a lifetime to recover from the kind, beautiful soul that she thought James was. She thought that the blonde, softball player was going to be the one. Betty saw herself growing old with the other girl; buying a house, planting a new garden and raising a few kids. She’s only 17, almost 18. It seems foolish now that she was planning so far into the future with someone she has known for only a year, before her life has even truly begun.

An outsider might look at the situation and say she will move on. She’s so young. When you are as young as Betty, most adults assume that you don’t know a thing about true love. But Betty knows how she truly feels, Betty knows that she was – still is in love with James. And she hates it.

[ground-riot-jack]

doesn’t equal forever | r. tanaka | part 1

bestfriend!tanaka x reader

tanaka has been your bestfriend for years, but you’re determined to confess your feelings this movie night

warnings: angst, a lot of angst, cussing of course, a little bit of fluff.

You and the crazy ball of aggressive energy that you called your bestfriend, Tanaka, have been friends since middle school. You’d been sat next to each other in homeroom so it became natural to ask the other for a pencil or homework answers or to just study together. You’d grown close and decided to both attend Karsuno High School. Your first year you realized you had feelings for Ryu. He was funny, nice and he always made sure you were okay. As the time went on your feelings for Ryu only grew stronger.

The only person who knew about your feelings was your mutual friend Nishinoya. You’re not sure how but he figured it out before you did, teasing you quietly to make a move on the bald crackhead you liked.

You never tried too hard to show Tanaka your feelings for him, sticking to light flirting and usual bestfriend antics. You figured if he liked you, he’s forward enough to tell you. By your second year, you quickly realized Tanaka didn’t have feelings for you, but instead was obsessed with Kiyoko, team manager.

It began as a joke, really it did. Noya, Ryu and you would fangirl over Kiyoko any chance you got as an inside joke about her beauty. Then you slowly backed off as the boys took their job as Kiyokos personal hype man and bodyguards a little more seriously.

Today was like every other day. You were helping Noya and Ryu set up some drills in the gym, talking and gossiping about random things when the gym doors opened quickly, Kiyoko and Yachi jogging in quickly and immediately going to Coach Ukai and Takeda.

“Awe man, It looks like Kiyoko got us that practice match we’ve been looking for. What can’t she do?” Tanaka sighs dreamily while watching his older manager. His task was long forgotten and now laid on you and Noya to complete.

“Oí, have some respect for Kiyoko and yourself. Quit staring” Noya smacks Ryu on the back of his shaved head, who jumps and goes back to his task, while mumbling about a new headache.

“So, do you guys wanna come over and finally watch the season finale of-“

“VAMPIRE DIARIES” The boys shouted in unison.

“Of course y/n, we’ll meet at your place at 8. Ive gotta shower and big sis cooked dinner tonight.” Tanaka replies

“Okay, i’ll grab us some snacks and be ready at 8. if either of you aren’t there before 8:30 I’m starting the show without you.” You send a pointed look at the two boys who weren’t very good at time management.

Once practice ended, you, Noya and Ryu were getting ready to walk out when Tanakas name is called. You all stop and turn and see Kiyoko motioning him over.

“She’s calling me? She wants me!” Tanaka stutters out before sprinting full speed to where she’s standing across the gym.

“whatever, let’s just head home, get a head start in my shower and dinner.” Noya pouts, clearly jealous. You both begin the walk home, living fairly close to each other.

“I think tonight’s the night Noya.” You sigh dreamily.

“The night? Like tonight? Woah y/n, when did you get bold?”

“I just-I really really like him and i’m tired of hiding it. Plus, we’ve been flirting since we were kids. He has to have some kinda feelings for me. And if he doesn’t it’s fine, i’m a big girl and rejection is just apart of life” You huff. You look over and see Noya wiping fake tears from his eyes.

“My baby is all grown up” He fake wails into the air, causing you to shove him to the side. He gasps before jumping on you and tickling you making you beg for mercy. When you beg and his hands finally let up, he lets out a light sigh. “I’m serious y/n, i’m proud of you, plus i think he likes you too, you’ll be so cute together” Noya smiles brightly before hugging you and waving bye before heading down his street, leaving you to yourself.

8pm rolls around and You hear a knock on your front door, before you can move to open it, it flies open revealing Noya standing there in pajamas holding candy.

“Damn, do come in them bitch” You giggle at the energetic boy.

“Ryus not here yet?” Noya says, plopping down on your couch.

“Uh, no. I’ll text the group chat.” You vite your lip and pull out your phone.

“Uh he’s so lucky, Id die if Queen Kiyoko asked me to run an errand for her.” Noya sighs dramatically.

“Even if it was during your bestfriend weekly movie night?” You grumble before standing and moving to the kitchen to bust your mind.

“Don’t be upset pumpkin, Kiyoko is just like a little crush everyone, even you, has so Ryu is doing something for her. He will be here in no time, you can confess your feelings and then we can watch our absolute favorite show.” Noya follows you, smiling brightly at you.

“Yea you’re right, i’m just a little nervous. You wanna watch some youtube till Ryu gets here?” You smile back. You both head into the living room to pass time until your other bestfriend arrives.

At 8:45, you and Noya began getting a little worried. You’d called Ryu but he hasn’t answered. He wasn’t always on time, but he was never this late without contacting one of you. You went ahead and texted Ryu and couple more times just in case he fell asleep after his shower. You sat silently chewing your lip, worried about Ryu when Noyas phone dinged. He tapped the screen to reveal a text from the man of the hour.

Tanaka 🥵✨

on my way!

Noya relayed the message to you and decided to use the bathroom before Tanaka got there so you could go ahead and start the episode. While Noya was gon his phone, left on the coffee table, made another ding. You took a quick look so you could tell Noya when he came back, like you usually do.

Tanaka 🥵✨

also y/n kept blowing up my phone while I was with kiyoko, she almost cock blocked me 😭it was low key annoying

Your chest tightened, your stomach dropped, your heart broke and your breathing sped up. Ryu had never once expressed that you were ever bothering him, to your face atleast. Maybe he always texted Noya about you like this. Your eyes stung with tears that you pushed back. You re read the text until it something else crossed your mind. You’d almost cock blocked him? Does that mean-

You’re interrupted by your front door swinging open to reveal a exasperated Ryu. You stood and ran to the kitchen, claiming you needed more snacks. You heard Noya leaving the bathroom and saying hey to Ryu. Then you heard hushed yelling, but you couldn’t make out the words. You gathered food and took a deep breath before waking back out. You just had to casually ask Ryu about his night with Kiyoko, then you could admit your feelings if the time was right.

You walked in and saw Noya looking at his phone then Ryu and then you. You set the food down and got on your phone to text Noya, letting him know you saw the text. You heard his breath hitch and he looked at you with pity and confusion.

“Where’s my hug y/n?” Ryu smiles brightly, you hugged him but pulled back slightly when you realized he smelled like expensive perfume instead of his usual cologne. He took his jacket off and sat on the couch, and your heart broke more than you thought it could.

There were atleast 5 hickies on Ryus neck, and one peeking out the collar of his shirt, letting you know there were more on his chest. You looked at your lap but saw Noya kick Ryu in the shin.

“wha- oh you guys want an announcement, haha i get it. Yes okay, I slept with Kiyoko. No big deal” Ryu bragged, striking a pose as you held back a fountain of tears.

You tried to open your mouth to share a false congrats but the lump in your throat made it next to impossible to say anything without sobbing. You gripped your sweatpants tighter in an effort to calm yourself. The air in the room grew awkward as everyone sat in silence.

“Y/n? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Ryu asks, at his question you can’t help but let the dam break, sobs racking your body as tears flowed from your face. You could do nothing but cry into your hands.

“I-i, i don’t understand. Are you okay?” Ryu moves closer but you run upstairs and slam your bedroom door shut. You can vaguely hear them talking downstairs but not clearly enough to even tell who’s speaking. Meanwhile, the boys were having a heated discussion.

“You absolute idiot! Why would you do this.” Noya gripped his hair and pulled.

“What the hell is going on?” Ryu pleads.

“I-You- You just had to fuck Kiyoko on movie night? You just messed everything up! Oh and y/n saw your text by the way! Some friend you are” Noya laughs dryly at the taller boy.

“My text...Oh shit! I didn’t mean it like that. I just- I didn’t. Kiyoko asked me to help her with something and I did and then she was flirting with me and then-“

“Y/n IS IN LOVE WITH YOU IDIOT!” Noya shoves Ryu over the couch, causing his to trip and land on his ass. “She loves you more than a friend and she was going to confess tonight, then you stroll in here almost an hour late with hickies all over you and smelling exactly like Kiyoko. You don’t think that hurts y/n, and then on top of that you called her annoying when she was worried about you. So you either need to go up there and say you like her too or you need to apologize and leave because I will not sit here while you play with her feelings.” Noya says now standing over the taller boy.

“I-, I didn’t know she liked me. I-I don’t like her like that. She’s my bestfriend Nishinoya. Of course I love her, but like you love a cousin or something.” Ryu spits out, eyes full of regret.

“Then go upstairs, apologize and let her down gently.” Noya picks Tanaka up by his collar and pushes him towards youre bedroom. Tanakas throat tight hens as he gets closer to your room. He can hear you sobbing from down the hall he’s walked a million times.

He slowly pushes open your door and see you laying in your bed, face pushed into a pillow and sobbing.

“I love him so much, Noya. And stupid gorgeous Kiyoko gets him. She wasn’t even there for everything. She wasn’t there for him like I was!” You scream into your pillow before looking up and seeing Tanaka standing in your doorway. You quickly straighten up and wipe your face while avoiding eye contact with your crush and bestfriend.

“Y/n, i’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have-“

“It’s fine Tanaka, if you like her then you like her” You sigh.

“I didn’t mean to call you annoying. You know you’re my bestfriend and I love you, but not like that. I’m sorry y/n, I can’t be what you’re expecting me to be.” He sits at your desk chair.

“Then why are you here Tanaka? Here you can have all your stuff back-“ You stand, speeding into the anger stage of your grief. You quickly grab jewelry and stuffed animals you’d received from him over the years.

“Stop calling me Tanaka, and I want you to keep the stuff”

“I will continue to call you Tanaka because I clearly don’t know you as well as I thought I did. And you think I want your stuff in my room? You think I wanna roll over and be reminded that you will never feel the same way about me and that fucking Kiyoko was the one to get you in the end? I’m not doing that. You think i want your stupid hoodie that smells exactly like you in my closet? or even on me? So i can be reminded that I can never hold you this close again and that you will never be my Ryu. Is that what you want for me Tanaka? So take your shit and leave, please” You box as much of his things as you can and press the box into his chest.

“Y/n...”

“No Tanaka. It’s okay. Deep down I always knew you didn’t feel the same. The way you look at Kiyoko, I knew you’d never look at me that way. I’m just your friend right, so i have no choice but to support you.” You sniffle and open your bedroom door for Tanaka to walk out of.

“Y/n, can you just wait a second. I’ve barely got a word in,”

“If you’re not going to tell me you love me, then you need to go because honestly dude, it’s hurt so fucking bad just looking at you.” You bite your lip and keep your eyes trained on the floor. You dared to sneak a glance at Ryu but what you saw caused ur heart to clench. His eyes were wide and glossy, his hands were lightly shaking. When he was like this, your normal reaction was to hold him and tell him everything’s gonna be okay, but now you couldn’t. You kept your hands to yourself and you waited as he walked out of your room.

“I’m sorry y/n. I am” He sighs before leaving your house completely.

Authors note: PHEw!!! i actually cried writing this so i’m sorry, i hope you liked it. I love tanaka so much and i love kiyoko but i saw the opportunity and i decided to hurt my own feelings :)))